But what was she being offered?
Not a proper marriage. A marriage of convenience.
‘Of course I love him,’ she said, even more strongly. ‘And how can I want any more than that?’
How indeed?
CHAPTER NINE
AND then there was the wedding.
It was a wedding that Cinderella’s fairy godmother would have approved of, Penny-Rose thought dazedly. Because the magic wands were certainly out in force today.
She’d seen the plans for the ceremony taking shape but until now everything had seemed a chaotic muddle. But on her wedding morning she woke and looked out of her window, to find the mass of canvas and poles and ropes had suddenly transformed themselves into the most beautiful marquee imaginable.
The thing was huge-almost as big as the ground floor of the castle. It stretched over the river pasture. Part of it was built on a wooden platform over the river, and there were royal pennants flying gaily from each pole. The whole scene looked like something out of a mediaeval pageant.
And the sight made her catch her breath. Up until now this wedding had been all talk. Today it was very, very real.
What on earth was she doing? Doubts crowded in from every side as she showered and left her bedroom. Help!
But who to turn to?
Her siblings were nowhere to be found-they only had three days in this magic place and they were making the most of them. Even Leo had deserted her. Confused and aimless, she wandered down to breakfast in a muddle of caterers and guests she didn’t know. Then she headed outside.
Here the sense of pageant was even stronger. Carriages were drawn up by the front gates, and horses were being walked up and down in readiness. The servants were in full livery. In her jeans and T-shirt, Penny-Rose felt like someone who’d wandered onto the wrong stage.
It was someone else’s stage. Someone else’s life! Not hers.
Where was Leo?
And where was Alastair?
He must be as confused as she was, she thought, but he’d absented himself. Deliberately? Maybe. And maybe he should. It was supposed to be unlucky to see the bride on her wedding day.
The way Alastair was acting, it seemed it was unlucky to see the bride at all!
But he’d organised Koneata Lau. They’d have their honeymoon when they’d have to see each other.
‘Yeah, it’ll be a really romantic honeymoon-just me and Alastair-and Heather and Liz and Mike,’ she murmured, scooting around the edges of the marquee and trying hard to settle the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Think of the beach! she told herself helplessly. Koneata Lau. It was something to look forward to.
It
Which would have been a waste! she acknowledged, because if Alastair had his way they’d probably stay at opposite ends of the island. It made sense to take the kids with them.
‘Be contented with what you have, girl,’ she muttered to herself crossly. ‘Today you have a truly royal wedding.’ She looked around at the marquee with pennants flying, the castle as backdrop, the liveried servants, the carriages and the horses…
‘A mediaeval wedding,’ she continued.
For a year!
She kicked her toes against a rock, and one corner of her mind registered that it had a very flat base and would make a great foundation stone for the wall she was building.
That was what she felt like doing, she decided. Climbing back into her overalls and heading back to her stone- walling.
‘But I can’t,’ she told herself. ‘Get back to your quarters, woman. Turn yourself into a princess. You have a prince to marry.’
‘It’s magic,’ Heather declared as she bounced into the room an hour later. Penny-Rose’s sister looked stunning in a tiny crimson suit-a minuscule leather skirt and matching jacket. Her entrance destroyed the mediaeval air in an instant.
Heather gave her sister a resounding kiss, and whirled to admire herself in the mirror. ‘Thank you for not insisting on bridesmaids,’ she told her, stroking her leather with sheer joy. ‘I spent all my money on this and I’ll love it for ever. My friends back home will die of envy.’
Penny-Rose managed a smile. ‘It’s great. Where…where are the others?’ Where’s Alastair? she’d meant to say, but she couldn’t.
‘Elizabeth’s flirting with a distant cousin who says he’s a count. A count, for heaven’s sake! I could end up with a dynasty of royal relations! And Alastair and Mike have taken Leo for a walk by the river.’
Penny-Rose took a deep breath. She might have known. Her little brother was almost overwhelmed by all of this. While her sisters thought it was exciting, Mike had been growing quieter and quieter, and to take him for a walk had been pure kindness.
Her Alastair, she thought, was the very nicest prince a girl could ever marry!
She forced her voice to stay casual, but emotion was threatening to overwhelm her. ‘They’ll…they’ll be back on time?’
‘Of course. There’s hours to go.’ Heather plonked herself down on the bed, and bounced. ‘This is the most gorgeous bed!’ She bounced again, and then focussed on her sister’s face. ‘Oh, stop worrying. Alastair doesn’t have to get his hair done. Like you do.’ Then she grinned. ‘That’s what I’m here for. The team are ready. Can I tell them to come up?
‘The team?’
‘Wait till you see what Marguerite has in store for you.’ Heather giggled. ‘You’ll die of shock.’
Penny-Rose didn’t quite die of shock but she came close. Marguerite had decreed what was necessary and into her room came hairdresser, manicurist, beautician, florist…
A fairy godmother would have been much simpler, Penny-Rose thought, dazed. As it was, she was twisted this way and that, pampered and petted, and turned into something she’d never dreamed was possible.
And an hour later, Marguerite, looking stunning herself in a blue silk suit which must have cost a fortune, carried in
She had tried it on just once. It had been taken away to be altered, and now it appeared again in all its shimmering glory.
The rest of the entourage stood respectfully back, the gown was slipped over her shoulders and there was a collective gasp from the entire room.
The gown was deceptively simple. It was of made of smooth ivory silk, with a scooped neckline, tiny filigree sleeves and a bodice that showed every lovely curve. Beneath the bodice, the gown clung revealingly to her hips. Then, with a rope of rich ivory braid to delineate the skirt, it flared out into fold upon fold, sweeping to the floor at the front and drifting into a lovely rich train behind.
The skirt was so heavy! Alastair’s grandmother hadn’t skimped when she’d had this dress made, and the hidden folds made the gown flare and swirl like magic.
Marguerite darted forward and threaded a tiny delicate diamond tiara on Penny-Rose’s head. Then the florist fixed a trace of lily of the valley into her mass of tumbling curls and the hairdresser tweaked the curls this way and that, wanting just one curl to lie on the soft curve of her breast.
And that was that. Finished.
The effect was ethereal.
‘And I thought my leathers were fabulous,’ Heather breathed, and it broke the ice. There was a general
