laughingstock, a marriage had been hastily arranged that would serve the dual purpose of establishing Robert in society and help close the gap between the Campbells and the Shrecks. And of course, if something should go wrong, Robert was the most expendable member of the Family at present.
He was average height, as fighting fit as years of military training could make him, and at seventeen old enough to marry, but not old enough to object to the marriage. He was still trying to get used to how much his world had changed. One moment the Shrecks were a deadly enemy to be fought on every occasion, and now here he was marrying one. But he was old enough to understand politics and know his duty. Especially since William and Gerald kept explaining it to him.
William Campbell was tall, thin and intense, and the bookkeeper of the Family. It was a job that couldn't be trusted to an outsider, but which most members usually avoided like the plague, on the grounds it was far too much like hard work, and if they'd wanted to work they wouldn't have been born an aristocrat. Fortunately William found numbers both more interesting and easier to deal with than people, so he was perfectly suited to the job. He didn't get out much, but he meant well, and occasionally surprised people with his firm grasp of politics. He was a Campbell, after all.
Gerald, on the other hand, was the Family mistake. There's one like him in every Family. Too dumb to be entrusted with the important stuff, but too senior to be just ignored. The Family had been trying to find a place for him all his life, with absolutely no success. Gerald was tall, blond and handsome, and a complete bloody disaster no matter what he did, and everyone knew it but him. The Campbell himself had been heard to say, only partly in jest, that the best thing to do with Gerald would be to make a gift of him to a Family they were really mad at.
'Do try and at least look cheerful,' said William to young Robert. 'This is a wedding, after all, not the dentist's.'
'Right,' said Gerald. 'At the dentist they take something out. Here you get to put something in. Get my drift, eh?'
Robert smiled politely, and just a little desperately. He had the look of a small animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He pulled at his frock coat to straighten it and fiddled with his cravat. His dresser had assured him he looked both dignified and fashionable, but he wasn't sure of either. He felt very much he could have used a stiff drink or several, but William wouldn't let him. Valentine had offered to slip him a little something, but he'd declined. He didn't think he was ready to deal with one of Valentine's little somethings. Probably no one but Valentine was.
'You've been through the rehearsals,' said William reassuringly. 'Nothing to worry about. Just say the words, kiss the bride, and it'll be all over before you know it. Remember you have to lift the veil first, though. You'd be surprised how many people forget that. Sometimes I think we're getting a little too inbred. Brace up, not long to go now.'
'And then you can settle down to getting to know your bride,' said Gerald. 'Something to look forward to, eh? Eh?
'Gerald,' said William, 'go get Robert a drink.'
'But you said he shouldn't have any.'
'Then go and get me a drink.'
'But you don't drink.'
'Then go and get yourself a bloody drink, and don't come back till you've drunk it!'
Gerald blinked a few times and then moved away in the general direction of the punchbowl, looking just a little confused. As always. William looked at Robert and shrugged.
'Don't mind your Uncle Gerald, boy. He means well, but he should have been dropped on his head as a baby. It's not entirely his fault that he's about as much use as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. Is there… anything you want to ask me before the ceremony? I mean, I am a married man…'
'That's all right,' said Robert quickly. 'A lot of people have already talked to me about that. Everyone's been very free with their advice. The only advice I could really use is how to get out of this.'
William smiled and shook his head. 'Sorry, but that's not on. Duty calls. The Campbell sets the rules, and we have to follow them. If we didn't, where would we be? In complete bloody chaos, and all the other Families would charge in like sharks scenting blood in the water. Or do they taste it? I've never been sure. Anyway, whatever else we may be, we're Campbells first. Always. If it's any help, I felt much the same before my wedding, and I've been happy enough. I suppose.'
'Keep on encouraging him like that, and we'll have to drive him to the altar with whips,' said a loud, carrying voice.
Robert and William Campbell looked up to see standing before them Adrienne Campbell, large as life and twice as loud. William flinched visibly, and was still trying to find the right words with which to introduce Adrienne when she stepped forward, brushing him aside and smiled at Robert.
'Hello, Robert. I'm Adrienne, Finlay's wife. I'm the one you've probably been warned about, and you should believe every word. Mostly they try and keep me away from public functions on the grounds I embarrass them. Personally, I've never been embarrassed in my life. Fortunately for you, they couldn't keep me out of a wedding this important. You come with me, dear. There's someone I want you to meet.'
'fir…' said William.
Adrienne rounded on him, and he fell back a step. 'Did you want to say something, William? No? I didn't think so. You rarely do. Come along, Robert.'
And she took him by the hand in a viselike grip and led him off through the crowd. Robert went along with her. It seemed like the safest thing to do, if he ever wanted his hand back. They passed through the outskirts of the crowd, followed all the way by scandalized whispers, and then through a side door that led into a quiet sitting room decorated with antiques of considerable age and complete hideousness. And there, among the antiques like a single flower in a garden of weeds, sat Letitia Shreck, his bride-to-be. She jumped up the moment they entered, then stood quietly with eyes modestly downcast. She was sixteen years old and very pretty, with hints of a more mature beauty to come. The long white wedding gown made her look very fragile, like a delicate porcelain figure standing alone on a shelf. Robert looked at her and then at Adrienne with something like shock.
'I know,' said Adrienne briskly, 'you're not supposed to meet before the ceremony, but they'll overlook it this time rather than have me make a scene in front of everybody. They tend to overlook quite a lot rather than have me make a scene. I can be very good at scenes, when I put my mind to it. Anyway, I brought you two together so you could talk, so get on with it. I'll run interference at the door. You've got about twenty minutes before they come and drag you off to the ceremony, so make the most of them. Just… chat together; you'll be surprised how much you've got in common.'
And with that she disappeared out the door, pulling it firmly shut behind her, leaving Robert and Letitia standing looking at each other. It was very quiet in the room. They could hear the murmur of raised voices beyond the closed door, but that might as well have been on another world. For a moment that seemed to last forever, neither of them moved, and then Robert cleared his throat awkwardly.
'Would you like to sit down, Letitia?'
'Yes. Thank you.'
They sat down on chairs facing each other, careful to maintain a proper distance between them. Robert searched for something to say that wouldn't make him sound like a complete idiot.
'Letitia…'
'Tish.'
'I beg your pardon?'
'I… prefer to be called Tish. If that's all right.'
'Yes. Of course. Call me Bobby. If you like.' They looked right at each other for the first time, and Robert smiled suddenly. 'Tell me, Tish, do you feel as uncomfortable in your outfit as I do in mine?'
She laughed immediately, then put her hands to her mouth, looking at him to check he wasn't shocked. Reassured by his smile, she lowered her hands and smiled back at him.
'I hate this dress. If it was any tighter, it would be inside me. I haven't dared to eat or drink anything. I don't think there's anywhere for it to go. And every time I go to the toilet, I have to take two maids with me to unlace everything. I've been going rather a lot. I think it's nerves. And of course if I say anything, or try to complain, they just say it's traditional, as if that solved everything.'
'Right!' said Robert as she paused for breath. 'If I hear the word tradition one more time, I think I'll scream. I
