“You don’t think I’d discuss the question with you, surely?”
“Well, it was worth a try, Kitten. Not the kids, the house. It might be fun, for a change, to know who I was building for.”
“You mean you generally don’t?”
Penn shook his head. “No. I just build a house and when it’s done, it goes up for sale.”
“And that works? Good heavens, Penn—”
“But it would have been interesting to keep you in mind and puzzle out the way you’d like things. You ought to think about my offer, Kitten. It’s the only way you’ll get a say in the house Marcus builds.”
She put her pen down and stared at him incredulously. “What on earth do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. He complains whenever I call you Kitten, but he actually treats you like one — a fluffy little female who only knows how to be helpless.” He finished off his sandwich.
“That’s perfectly ridiculous.”
“You think you’re making all the plans for your wedding, don’t you?”
“I’m consulting Marcus, of course, but—”
“And I’ll bet he allows you to arrange things until it interferes with his plans, and then he’ll put his foot down. Take your honeymoon—”
“And just what would you know about my honeymoon, Penn?”
“You still don’t know where you’re going? I do. Marcus has already made up his mind. I asked him last night — not straight out, of course — and he told me.”
Kaitlyn didn’t like the sound of that. Just how had he extracted that sort of information from Marcus? “I thought you weren’t going to interfere in my life anymore.”
“I didn’t. The bachelor party going on in the next room seemed to inspire our Marcus to tell us all how it should be done. Perhaps you should take him on as a partner, Kitten. I can see it now — Socially Correct Weddings by the Wainwrights. Your mother doesn’t like him, by the way.”
“Oh? Have you taken up reading minds?”
“No. She told me.”
“It’s nice that you two are so close. But I must warn you that Mother has been a little confused lately. Just yesterday she told me that you’re keeping the cabin so you can hold clan reunions there someday. What clan, I asked her—”
The phrase was out before she stopped to think, and only when she saw the smoky gray of his eyes shift and darken almost to black did she recognize the cruelty of those thoughtless words, reminding him of how alone he was. “I’m sorry, Penn,” she whispered. “Oh, dear heaven, I’m sorry!”
“Why be sorry for the truth? Facts is facts,” he said ungrammatically. “Would you like me to tell you where you’re going on your honeymoon?”
“Of course I would.” She kept her voice level, careless — and she didn’t glance up from the invitation she was assembling.
Penn came across the kitchen to her, and his palm cupped warmly against her chin and made her look at him. His gaze searched her face.
She didn’t try to look away. “But I’m not going to kiss you to get this information, Penn,” she said sweetly. “I’ll just ask Marcus.”
“And you really think he’d tell you?” he scoffed. He flicked the tip of her nose with his index finger. “Bermuda.”
“In February? It’s still too cold.” Her voice was slightly squeaky for an instant, and then the shock passed. “He must have been leading you on.”
“Nope. Marcus is not capable of that sort of joke. Aren’t you going to thank me? At least you’ll know what sort of clothes to pack.” He started to build himself another sandwich. “But then perhaps Marcus doesn’t intend to let you out of the honeymoon suite, so it won’t matter whether you have any clothes at all.”
“Please, Penn. You’re so distressingly crude.”
“Well, I wouldn’t.”
He looked at her levelly over the stack of rye bread and turkey and cheese, and Kaitlyn felt her insides go liquid. Once, she had dreamed of sharing a honeymoon suite with Penn. And she hadn’t concerned herself with what scenery might be visible outside it, either.
“If I ever found anyone I was nuts enough to marry, that is,” he added casually.
Kaitlyn waited till her heartbeat had slowed to normal. “Well, that isn’t likely, is it?” she said repressively. “Because it isn’t only you who’d have to be nuts, Penn.”
*****
She had never yet organized a wedding rehearsal where everyone was on time, and Laura McCarthy’s was no exception. Normally it was no real problem. If the members of the wedding party were late and took longer than necessary in learning their parts, they were really only inconveniencing themselves, for it was their own after-rehearsal dinner that was being delayed.
But tonight was a bit different. Kaitlyn had a dinner date to keep, and she wanted, at all costs, to be on time. She wasn’t ready to have another discussion with Marcus on the future of her business — not until she’d had a chance to think it out for herself, at least.
So when the best man showed up at St. Matthew’s a full twenty minutes late, she greeted him briskly and turned directly back to the ushers to finish her instructions. “Each adult is to get a candle as he or she is seated, along with the wedding program. But use your common sense,” she pleaded. “If someone doesn’t want to participate, don’t make a fuss about it. At the end of the ceremony, just after the vows, Laura and Jack will light their big unity candle and blow out the two small side candles. Then the four ushers will come forward and light tapers from the unity candle. They’ll go back along the center aisle lighting one candle in each row, and the guests will pass the flame along until everyone’s candle is glowing.”
“Silly nonsense, Laura,” her mother muttered. Laura’s face tensed a little.
Kaitlyn pretended not to notice. “After the ceremony, you’ll retrieve and extinguish the candles as you show people out. Don’t forget it — St. Matthew’s may be stone on the outside, but we could still have a nasty fire. And speaking of stone, watch out for the floors. They’re slick, and we don’t want to have someone in a cast tomorrow. All right, everyone in your places for the processional.”
It took several tries to get everyone in the right spot, to get the timing down perfectly, to teach the bridesmaids not to walk too quickly, but to keep their pace steady. Kaitlyn was sick of the sound of the wedding march before she was finished, but finally she had them all in place around the altar, and she went back to the pastor’s office to tell him it was his turn.
Her feet were hurting; her blistered heel was burning, and she was beginning to wish that she had skipped glamour and worn slacks and the flat shoes that let her dash around the church to demonstrate. She might as well have been comfortable; she wasn’t going to feel fresh by the time she got to the club, anyway – not with the way this rehearsal was going.
But if every mistake that could be made was taken care of tonight, maybe it would all go smoothly tomorrow.
She settled into a side row where she could observe while the pastor took over the rehearsal of the ceremony itself. He was affable and understanding, and he must have guided five hundred couples through this rite, so Kaitlyn could relax.
“I won’t let any of you make a mistake,” he was saying. “Because if you happen to do something unforeseen, we’ll just take it from there and fit it in, and it won’t be a mistake after all. So you can relax, and—”
Kaitlyn took him at his word. She leaned back a little and slid her three-inch heels off. All she had to do tomorrow was get them to the altar; he’d take it from there.
She let her mind drift as he went on. They’d need another fifteen minutes on the processional, she estimated, then one more run-through of how to get back down the aisle afterward, followed by a few minutes for questions. With any luck, she’d be right on time at the club.
She turned her attention back to the altar just as the pastor said, “Then I’ll ask, ‘Will you, Laura, take this man to be your lawful husband,’ et cetera, and La
ura will say—”
Kaitlyn happened to be watching Laura right then, and she saw her pretty face grow slightly paler, and her jaw tense, and her throat work a little as if she suddenly had lost her voice.
Then Laura McCarthy said very clearly, “No.”
The single word reverberated through the church and bounced off the lacy arches and the carved friezes and the stone floor. It echoed for a long time, and when it had finished, a frozen hush descended on the assembled group.
Laura put her chin up and looked squarely at her fiancé. “No,” she repeated. “I won’t.”
CHAPTER 7
The maid of honor started to laugh, a shrill, hysterical titter that broke off halfway through when the girl clapped her hands over her mouth.
This can’t be happening, Kaitlyn thought. Things like this only appear in bad movie scripts. Nobody ever fails to show up at the church. Nobody ever steps forward when the clergyman asks them to speak now or forever hold their peace. And nobody, damn it, ever throws a wrench like this into the rehearsal!
Then she saw the way Laura’s fingers trembled on the spray of plastic flowers that Kaitlyn had given her to use for practice. And not just her fingers, either — the girl’s entire body was shaking. She must be ready to hyperventilate, or faint, or fly to pieces in a nervous fit.
Kaitlyn started toward her at the same instant that Laura’s mother did, but the pastor had recovered his poise even more quickly. “Perhaps this should be resolved in private,” he said gently. “Laura and Jack — I’ll see you in my study, please. The rest of you will wait right here, I’m sure.” The easy cajolery was gone from his voice; it was unmistakably an order.
Laura’s mother sank into the front pew and put her hands over her eyes.
The groom’s mother sent a freezing look at her, and said, “I am shocked — I have never seen such ill-mannered behavior in my life!”
“Let’s not make things worse, shall we?” Kaitlyn murmured. “If they patch up their differences in there, it wouldn’t be pleasant to come back out and find their families at war.”
The bridesmaids and ushers were still standing rigidly in line; Kaitlyn urged them out of position and into the sanctuary so they could sit down, at least. It might be minutes, or hours, before that conference in the pastor’s study would end. She wondered at what point it would be appropriate for her to knock on the door and find out what was going on. If there wasn’t to be a wedding, she might as well send everyone home. But she didn’t dare do that without knowing what was happening behind that closed door. The longer they all sat here, the less likely it was that anything would be worked out.
She looked at her wristwatch and sighed. In fifteen minutes she was supposed to meet Marcus and their hosts — the hosts who thought it was such a good idea for an executive to be a married man, because it settled him down and gave his life organization. None of them were going to be pleased about this development.
Well, she’d tried to warn Marcus that rehearsals were unpredictable.
She found herself wondering exactly what that argument between Laura and Jack had been about. The bachelor party, as she had originally thought? Or something else? Was this more than just wedding nerves?
Kaitlyn had half an hour to construct theories and compile a new list of things to do just in case — for she’d never had to cancel a wedding before. Then she began bracing herself to go and find out what was happening, and she had just stood up to do so when the pastor came out of his office with Laura beside him and Jack two steps behind.
He paused at the foot of the altar steps and said, “After some discussion, I have concluded that there should be no wedding tomorrow. I wish to make it clear to all of you that this is not a decision made by either Laura or Jack — it is simply that my conscience will not allow me to proceed under these circumstances.”
It was just about what Kaitlyn had expected – a cancellation along with a gentlemanly attempt to ease the blame on the bride and groom.
Jack’s mother stood up with a flounce. “Come along, son,” she said firmly. “I, for one, never wanted this affair in the first place!”
Jack shook her hand off his arm and stood his ground. For a moment, as he turned to Laura, Kaitlyn held her breath. Would he plead? Apologize? Ask her to reconsider?
“What happened was no big deal,” he said. “And you’re crazy if you think you’re going to hold it over my head and run my life.” He stalked down the aisle and out the main door of the church.
Kaitlyn sighed and went back to the pastor’s office to call the country club. It was not going to be a pleasant chat with Marcus, but there was nothing else she could do but tell him that she would have to stay with her client.
It was several minutes before Marcus came to the telephone, and after she had explained, there was a timeless span of silence.
Then Marcus said, sounding rather dangerous, “What in the hell do you mean you aren’t going to make it to dinner at all? I was just explaining to them that you’ve been helping out a friend, and that you were unfortunately detained but you’d be along in a few minutes. What do you expect me to tell them now?”
“For heaven’s sake, tell them the truth, Marcus!”
“What truth? That your business is more important to you than your promise to me?”
“Don’t twist things. I should think they’d understand that sometimes business interferes with personal lives. Or is that only allowed when it’s TurfMaster who benefits?”
“There is no need to be sarcastic, Kaitlyn.”
“It’s not as if this isn’t important.” She stopped suddenly. “Wait a minute. You told them I was just helping out a friend?”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t think it would be well received that you had put your business ahead of mine, Kaitlyn.”
“Do you mean to say you didn’t tell them I had a business appointment? You just kept quiet till tonight and then made an excuse for the little woman being late?” Her voice was rising.
“Not exactly, darling.”
“Why didn’t you just tell them that I’m not smart enough to start doing my hair on time? That would have been easier! I think we have some things to talk about tomorrow, Marcus.”
She slammed the telephone down and stood for a second looking at the diamond ring on her left hand before she went back to the sanctuary. All of a sudden, she felt a little less annoyance and a whole lot more empathy for Laura McCarthy. Whatever was behind the girl’s outburst, it must have ripped her apart to actually say it.
Laura was standing by the altar steps. She was alone, for the ushers, the bridesmaids, the families — even, apparently, the pastor — were gone. Her head drooped, and she was still clutching the garish spray of plastic flowers as tightly as if it was actually the beautiful amaryllis bouquet she would have carried tomorrow....
Bouquet, Kaitlyn thought, with a mental snap of the fingers. One more thing that would have to be canceled. After all the frustration she had gone through about how to make amends for the missing calla lilies...
“You’re angry at me too, I suppose,” Laura said.
“No. I’m not.”
Laura’s head came up as if she was startled.
Kaitlyn was a little surprised herself to find that she was actually telling the truth, not a socially-convenient fiction. “There shouldn’t be a wedding unless you’re convinced it’s the right thing to do,” she said quietly. “And you’re obviously not convinced. That’s all I need to know.”
Laura’s eyes filled with tears. “I thought you’d gone, too. Are you disgusted with me?”
“Of course not. It’s my job to help you.”
“My mother left. She refused to help. She said I should at least wait till tomorrow.”
“Before you start canceling things, you mean? She wants to give you a chance to recover your senses, no doubt,” Kaitlyn said dryly.
“I won’t.” Then Laura smiled faintly for the first time, as she heard what she’d said. “I m
ean—”
“Well, it wouldn’t do her any good to put pressure on you to change your mind now. You brought things to a screeching halt.”
“She wanted me to go through with it. And I was going to — especially after what you told me about the attack of nerves everybody has. But when the pastor asked if I would take this man… I just couldn’t, Kaitlyn.”
“Well, at least you didn’t wait till tomorrow. Let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of things to do. I should call the caterer and the florist first, I suppose, and then we’ll just start down your invitation list.’’
The lights began to go off one by one, and the pastor came back to the sanctuary. “Do you need a place to work,” he asked, “or to talk? I can leave you a key.”
Kaitlyn shook her head. “We’ll just go over to my house. That’s where all the files are, anyway.”
Audrey was brewing a cup of tea in the kitchen, which by now looked as if a hurricane had swept through it. She seemed confused when they came in, so Kaitlyn murmured a half-explanation as she gave Laura a soft drink, and then ran upstairs to change her clothes.
When she returned Audrey was sitting on the living room couch, with Laura’s head in her lap, stroking the girl’s hair.
“It is so embarrassing to back out like this,” Laura was sobbing. “My mother thought I should go through with it anyway. She says I should just accept the way things are, because all bachelor parties have exotic dancers, and all men do things like that whenever they have the chance.”
“Things like what?” Kaitlyn asked almost involuntarily.
Audrey said, dryly, “Didn’t she tell you? The condensed version is that the exotic dancer’s act would have embarrassed most of the clients of the average bawdy house. And Jack was a willing participant.”
“Three days before the wedding,” Laura said drearily. “And he’s messing around with a—”
“At the country club?” Kaitlyn’s voice was practically a screech.
Audrey nodded.
“Well, if that’s confirmed,” Kaitlyn muttered, “he should be thrown out of the membership. I’ll talk to Marcus about it tomorrow.”
The Best-Made Plans Page 10
