by Annie Dyer
Marie slipped in and gave me that soft smile that didn’t fool me. She was very different to my mother who was quiet and calm. Marie was anything but quiet, and although no situation ever ruffled her, she was fierce. When we’d been at school in England, but our parents had been in New York, Marie had been our surrogate mother, coming to see us on a Sunday to take us out, there for any events or occasions, or if we needed home for a weekend, we would head to her house in Oxfordshire.
We had other cousins than the Callaghans – my father and Marie were two of the nine siblings so we really were a big family – but Marie and my father were close, along with their sister Bernadette. Bernie’s children – three boys – would be at my wedding. I’d already prepped Jackson for keeping an eye on them as they were wild, still in their twenties, and I was slightly worried about the damage they could do to the tender hearts of any young debutantes.
“You look beautiful.” Marie’s eyes trailed over the dress. “You picked very well. Georgie told me that it was an easy pick. Rose told me you looked like a princess.”
“Thank you. It’s exactly what I wanted.”
“It suits you.” She smiled again. “Your future mother-in-law is also here.”
“Oh. I did know she was coming – she’s getting her outfit from here too.” I’d met Lady S a couple more times since that first introduction. Unlike Noah, I found her interesting and fairly easy company. Vivi had told me that she got on well with her mother-in-law, you just had to stand your ground and she’d respect that. She’d also told me that Lady S could detect bullshit like a fart in a car, which was why her sons found her difficult to manage because she saw through whatever crap they were feeding her.
That didn’t sound too dissimilar to someone else I knew well; the person standing behind me now.
“Do you know when your parents are getting here?”
My parents had taken the news exactly as I thought they would. Surprised, but not worried. After all, Marie had married quicker than this and my parents recalled Noah from school. I’d just left it vague about recently we’d reconnected.
“Two days before and they’re going straight to Scotland. Their flight’s to Edinburgh.”
Marie nodded. “I know your father wanted to get here sooner, but he’s still involved in that case against Holdings.”
It was a big case that had been going on for years. My father was retired, or at least semi-retired, but this case had been his focus before that, so he’d never quite let go.
“They’re staying on longer though.”
“But you’ll be on your honeymoon. Any idea where you’re going yet?”
I shook my head. Noah had booked it all as a surprise, telling me it was two weeks somewhere hot, private and by the sea. I wasn’t sure whether I was more nervous about that or the wedding.
“I’ll find out at the airport.” I couldn’t stop my smile. I was looking forward to it;’ it’d been a couple of years since I’d had a beach holiday for one, and the other reason was six foot three, with light brown hair, dimples and a very talented tongue.
We hadn’t had a repeat of the night before our engagement party. There had been kisses and touches, touches that lasted longer than they should if I wanted to keep hold of my sanity, but I hadn’t been back to his since and when Noah had been to mine, we’d been heavily chaperoned by Maven.
“You need me to talk through any wedding night details?” Marie’s expression was evil. “Any tips?”
I blushed. My aunt was famous for not having filters.
“One tip, go to bed early if you want any action. Everyone will know what you’re doing, but they’ll think you’ll be doing it anyway. Leave it late and you’ll both be too tired, or drunk.” She sat down in the plush love seat in the dressing room. “Let him unpick the pins from your hair and lock the freaking door. Max and Vic were interrupted by Seph halfway through the night, and I think it scarred all of them.”
I laughed, I’d heard the story before, many times, each with a little more elaboration depending on who was telling it.
I stood up straighter, looking at myself in the mirror now the seamstress had finished with the pins.
“Try with the veil. It came in last week.” She opened a box behind her that I hadn’t noticed, pulling out a sheer veil with tiny thistles embroidered into the material, the flower associated with Noah’s grandfa. “Let’s put it on.”
She fastened it in lightly, styling it with my back to the mirror, so I could only see Marie watching how I was looking.
“Perfect. Turn around and see.”
I spun round and looked at myself. Even though I was pretty much make-up free, and my hair was in a messy bun as opposed to a styled messy one, I couldn’t quite believe it was me.
“You look beautiful, Imogen.” Marie’s voice was quiet.
She’d been involved with six weddings of her own children so far, with just Seph’s to go, so I had wondered whether this would be just another wedding to her.
It appeared not. I saw her eyes look wet through the mirror, and she brushed a tear away that had spilled out.
“Are you sure you don’t want your sisters to see?”
I shook my head. “No. I’d rather that be on the day of the wedding.” My wedding. One of the biggest days in a girl’s life. “But could you ask Noah’s mum to come in?”
I needed her approval.
I wasn’t Carla, who’d had no regard for what Lady S had thought, something I’d come to realise through chatting to Vivi. And despite Noah and his ways around his mother, he did have a positive relationship with her – they were just from different eras.
“I will. I’ll get you a glass of champagne too.”
The seamstress followed Marie out, leaving me alone with my reflection, in a dress I’d never imagined.
I looked like a fairy-tale character. The dress was cut to emphasise my bust, without exposing cleavage, and made my waist look tinier than it was, flaring out into a full skirt over my hips. It was heavier than I’d expected too, and there were intricate designs in the skirt that I could spend an hour studying. The same toile that covered some of the skirt was also over my lower arms, adding a little more intrigue.
I didn’t feel real. None of it did.
The door opened, and my aunt entered with my future mother-in-law, who closed the door behind her, dulling the laughter from my sisters.
“I like the cut of the skirt, and I approve of the arms. I know you young girls think nothing of showing flesh nowadays, but that over your arms makes it look quite modest. Turn around, my dear, let me see the back.” Lady Soames gestured for me to spin.
The back was cut low – there would be no choice to make over what sort of bra because I couldn’t wear one with this – but the veil would mask some of this, giving just a hint as to what was underneath – or what wasn’t.
I had the feeling Noah would approve, but for entirely different reasons than his mother.
“Well, it’s better being lower there than the front. What do you think?” Lady S looked at Marie.
Marie nodded. “I think it’s very Imogen. And it’s a beautiful dress – incredibly well made in such a short time.”
I hadn’t told anyone other than my father how much that short time had cost. It was eye-watering.
Lady S leaned down and picked up the hem of the skirt, studying the sewing. “It’s beautiful, Imogen. My son won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” She sighed. “Thank you for letting me see it.”
Marie handed me a glass of champagne. “Three sons – and it’s different with daughters-in-law, isn’t it?”
Lady S nodded, and I noticed she had a glass of champagne too. “I wanted a girl so very badly, and all three were boys. Vivi – Angus’ wife – is as good a daughter-in-law as I could wish. Lord knows she spends more time talking to me than her husband does, and I get to spoil Catherine sometimes, but she’s a tomboy at the moment, and I don’t know if I’ll see Catherine’s wedding.” Her smile w
as wistful. “You have seven children, is that right?”
Marie smiled. “The four eldest are from my husband’s first marriage. He lost his wife when the youngest wasn’t much more than a baby. So that gave me an instant three sons and a daughter. Then I had the twins, Seph and Payton, and Ava, the youngest. Grant put a stop to any more after Ava.”
“And grandchildren?”
Marie nodded. “Six, seven including Seph’s soon-to-be step-daughter, although I don’t like calling her that. She’s a delight, an absolute credit to her mother.”
“That’s Georgia, isn’t it?” Lady S took a seat and a sip of her drink.
“It is. And another wedding to look forward to. Then that’s all my children married – just my nieces and nephews now.” Marie smiled at me. “Imogen is my second niece to get married – from the younger end. I have older siblings whose children are even more grown up now, but still a few younger ones who are single. Which reminds me: I have three very boisterous nephews – my youngest sister’s boys – who need a health warning where young ladies are concerned. You might want to have an extra eye kept on them at the wedding.”
I swear I saw a flicker of a smile and a definite gleam in the eye of Lady S. “I’m sure the young ladies can look after themselves. What are their names?”
“Finn, Rowan and Gulliver. Safer not to ask about the last one – something to do with a dream my sister had just before she gave birth. Rowan and Gulliver are twins.” Marie rolled her eyes. “My sister, Bernadette, will be at the wedding too.”
“I’ll make sure to commiserate with her on having three boys.” Lady S gave another smile. “And none married yet?”
Marie shook her head. “They’re only young, and their mother hasn’t quite gone grey yet. Finn’s started an independent brewery, Rowan’s does something with designing apps, and Gulliver’s an author. They’re enjoying being successful and single.”
“I’m just glad Noah’s managed to get past the single stage.”
Lady S gave me another appraising look.
“He’s definitely past the single stage.” I muttered it, but quietly enough, making both Marie and Lady S laugh, amused.
My dress was packed up and the next time I’d see it would be the night before my wedding in a Scottish stately home. When I left the changing room wearing my jeans and shirt, my sisters were still in their bridesmaid dresses.
“Do we have any say in how we have our hair? Up? Down?” Catrin had twisted hers up into a messy pleat.
“Have it however you want. The dresses look amazing, by the way.” They did. We were all built fairly the same, with boobs that were more than a handful but not enormous, small waists and hips that flared. Lainey was more athletic, down to the amount of time she spent on a horse, and Maven was a little small and slighter, but there was no mistaking we were sisters.
Cat smoothed hers out. “I’ll be able to eat, dance and go to the toilet in this, which pretty much makes it perfect. Can’t believe you didn’t show us yours.”
I smiled. “It’s a secret. You’ll see it the night before the wedding. Have all your alterations been done?”
Maven nodded. “I have a pin stuck in my side, so I’m going to get changed. Lady S’ outfit looks fab, by the way.” Her eyes dropped on my mother-in-law to be.
“Thank you.” Lady Soames turned to me. “You’ve had the courtesy to warn us about your cousins.”
My sisters groaned. They knew exactly which cousins were meant.
“But has Noah warned you about his friends?” Her eyes positively danced around my sisters.
Catrin shook her head. “No, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be nothing we can’t handle.”
So that would be the entertainment.
Chapter Thirteen
Noah
The house was quiet, or at least, the part I was in was quiet. The Scottish sky above me was clear, which meant it was cold, and we were likely to have a frost in the morning.
The weather, for once, didn’t matter. Glamlarrig Castle was huge by any sense of the word, and we had enough space to cater everything indoors. More than enough space. The place was obscenely huge.
Glamlarrig reportedly had the first ever indoor heated swimming pool, and sprawled over ninety thousand acres, boasting one hundred and twenty rooms. It had been used as a movie set on at least a dozen occasions and if anything, I was seriously worried that this might be what scared Imogen away.
It didn’t matter that this was just an agreement. Tomorrow she’d become part of Soames history, something which, frankly, scared me.
I’d arrived this morning with my brothers, who seemed to have sensed I was panicking when they picked me up in London, supplied a bottle of very nice scotch and drove me up the motorways to a soundtrack of pop hits and no lectures.
I was getting married and they weren’t allowing me to have any second thoughts, even if this was a marriage of convenience so I could ensure my grandfather saw me settle down and be happy.
Happy. That was what I wanted Imogen to be. I didn’t think I was a terrible person – I’d never cheated when I was in a relationship, I didn’t over drink and I didn’t take drugs – they’d never appealed to me, no matter how accessible they’d been. I was kind to people, and I tried to help when I could.
No matter what happened, for the next twelve months at least, I’d be about her.
Maybe longer.
That was why I was sitting here, tied up in knots over a woman who’d agreed to marry me as a favour.
She was in the rooms that had been allocated to the bridal party. I’d met her parents for the first time in person – we’d met online a few weeks ago, and I’d had lunch with them today. They were nice people, her father clearly bright and her mother quiet but caring. I felt it had gone well, and they didn’t want to murder me for corrupting their daughter, even though I’d got nowhere near doing that.
Yet.
I held a glass of scotch in my hands, a thick coat around me, contemplating life and how I’d gotten here.
I wished I met Imogen a year ago, because if we had, we’d have been in this place for different reasons. She was gorgeous, I only had to think about those legs or her hair and I had a cock hard enough to hammer nails into a stone bench. I wished this was real, because in the space of a few weeks, we’d managed to arrange a day that was going to be special for everyone involved, with perhaps a minimal amount of stress. The things we’d disagreed on originally had been easy to find a compromise: there hadn’t been anything that either of us had been fixed on, and our personality types were similar in that we just wanted a way forward, rather than getting stuck on a fixed point for the sake of it.
I knew I was more than halfway to falling in love with her for real.
“Noah. How are you?” My grandfa appeared, dressed far too inappropriately for the cold outside. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow?”
“Yes, very much so. Let’s go inside and talk about it.” I stood up and wrapped my scotch free arm around his shoulders. He was slighter that I remembered, but I was taller and broader now than he’d ever been, this toughened Scotsman.
We wandered back into the building, through one of the many doors and along a rabbit’s warren of corridors to his favourite lounge, full of furs and tartan, and a roaring fire. It was reminiscent of being in front of a fire in a cabin in the woods somewhere, rather than a grand place such as Glamlarrig. It was homey and warm, without pretention, which was how I was hoping Imogen and her family were finding it.
“Is your suit ready for tomorrow?” I started off simple.
My grandfa nodded. “Aye, lad. And my kilt.”
I smiled. Imogen didn’t know that bit yet. We’d had a conversation about men in kilts a couple of weeks ago when she’d definitely had a few too many cocktails, and after that, I’d made a change to my wedding suit.
It now had a kilt.
“Part of the wedding party, Grandfa.” I watched him settle down in his favourite chair. Som
e days he was more agile than others.
We were lucky: we could afford the specialists, and Caroline had been quick to notice changes in his behaviour. She didn’t put his grumpy moods down to becoming cantankerous in his old age, she saw them for more than that, so the medication he’d been prescribed would slow down the deterioration.
But there was no cure.
We knew the ending wouldn’t be pretty, and he’d need full time care. Eventually he wouldn’t remember any of us, and my heart hurt for Caroline there, because already he'd had some days in which he forgot who she was, even though she loved the bones of him and had done for so long.
Today was another good day, like yesterday had been, and I hoped tomorrow would be also. He’d be there in the photographs and afterwards, when we sat around with our whisky, toasting the bride.
“How’s Imogen? Have you seen her this afternoon?”
I was surprised he’d remembered her name.
“I saw her at lunch. I think she’s been busy with her family and bridesmaids this afternoon. Did you see how many bags and suitcases they’d brought?” Although I suspected half of them had been full of champagne.
Grandfa laughed. “That’s women for you. You have a lot to learn. I like Imogen. She reminds me of your grandmother. Spirited. Intelligent. She’ll keep you on your toes and that’s what you want. It’s worth more than the pretty face of that other girl.”
I sat up, not realising he’d remembered Carla, even a little. “Imogen is the whole package. She’s got everything going on.”
He nodded, pointing to the bottle of scotch on the side. I stood up and obliged. If it was late enough for me to have one, it was good for him too.
“She’s a strong woman, your Imogen. And your mother likes her.”
“Really?” I’d thought as much, mainly because there hadn’t been one criticism out of Lady S’ mouth, which was a rare and unusual thing.
Grandfa nodded. “She told me that Imogen was the right woman to settle you down. And we all need those. I was lucky. I’ve had two of them – your grandmother and Caroline.”