Shades of Submission: Fifty by Fifty #1: Billionaire Romance Boxed Set

by Hunter, Adriana

  The chapel was tiny, the pews packed. I tried to pull away and stand at the back, but Charlie trapped my hand against his side and led me down the aisle to the front.

  Ethan...

  Tall, square, with a blond buzz-cut. He looked like a serviceman, home on leave to get married, not the owner of a little antiques shop in the back streets of Cambridge.

  He didn’t see me at first, and I clung to the thought that I could just slip into one of the pews and save the big reunion until later. Then he turned, as if he had sensed us approaching. He saw Charlie first, and opened his mouth to speak, and then he realized I was there, too, and – that beautiful moment when everything fell into place and I knew it would all be okay – his eyes met mine and he broke out into the widest, craziest grin, like when we were kids and Pop would bring home a box of Dunkin’ Donuts to make up for being late again. It had worked every time.

  “Sorry, bro’: no donuts.” Old family joke. Shorthand for Wipe that dumbass grin off your face before it sticks.

  I fell into his arms and, again, I was a kid, lost in my father’s strong arms. That same strength. Same man smell. Same voice even, as Ethan said, “Hey, kid. It’s been way way way too long.”

  Ethan: he was all the family I had.

  I held my big brother at arms’ length. He looked good. He’d put on a little weight, lost that haunted look he’d had as a student. “You good, bro’?”

  He nodded. “I’m good.”

  “And you’re sure about this? It’s not too late to make a run for it, you know. I’m parked just outside. We could out-run this lot to the car, easy. Look at them! We just need to use the element of surprise.”

  He laughed. “I’m good,” he repeated. “This is good. Now shut the fuck up and sit down, okay?”

  He said that a little too loudly, and earned a few disapproving looks, not least from the minister who was waiting in the wings.

  I kissed my brother on the cheek and then found a seat by Charlie on the front pew, righthand side. The groom’s side, but I was the only family here, unless you counted Charlie, who’d been something close to a brother to Ethan at Cambridge.

  I looked around: the pews on this side were occupied by those half-familiar from times I’d visited Ethan at college. The Cambridge crowd with their partners, all in grown-up suits and frocks. Joe and his brunette partner even had a small baby – when did that happen? Joe was one of Ethan’s college buddies I remembered fondly, so sweet and shy it had taken him ages to pluck up the courage to ask me out; I’d never have guessed he’d be the first to parenthood.

  On the bride’s side of the chapel there were some particularly gaudy dresses and head-pieces. I remembered what Charlie had said about the bride’s family: they owned land, they had money and connections. Ethan, too, had said that Eleanor came from a family with breeding and money. Was this the English aristocracy set loose for the day?

  Just then, Will approached us, leaning down to tag Charlie’s arm and mutter something to him that I didn’t quite catch, and then everyone rose to their feet.

  “Eleanor’s here, Trude,” said Charlie, close in to my ear. “Best behavior now, do you hear?” With that, he placed his hand on the small of my back. It was an intimate touch. Possessive. Proprietorial. It wasn’t as if he’d just run his hand down over my ass, but in many ways it was even more personal than that. More invasive.

  And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I hated the assumptions behind his touch; but I liked the contact, the sense of connection with someone else when I was feeling so vulnerable.

  His hand moved up my spine and rested again, as the bridal march kicked in and we both turned to watch Eleanor walking with her bent over white-haired father down the aisle towards my brother.

  I stepped aside, and Charlie’s hand fell away.

  As Eleanor advanced, I looked at Ethan watching her approach. His whole face had lit up. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so happy. Apart from for Pop’s donuts, of course. It was a real Dunkin’ Donuts kind of moment.

  Eleanor was tall and raven-haired. Her long, almost blue-black hair was pinned up in an elaborate floral head-piece that suspended a delicate, misty veil across her pale features, her lips a slash of vivid red.

  Ethan’s English rose.

  Just across the aisle, I noticed Will again. It was like an itch: once aware of him, my attention kept being drawn back. Now, he was watching Ethan and Eleanor closely. There was something wistful in his gaze, and I wondered then whether he was an ex of hers. Maybe that explained some of the undercurrents I’d detected between Charlie and him.

  I had a sudden image of Will and Eleanor together – another of the things I did, my imagination always vivid. Will with a fist buried in that long black hair, pulling her head back, his teeth dragging down the line of her throat, that thick stubble leaving a red trail of inflamed skin. His face, buried in her cleavage, his other hand cupping a breast, pushing it up to his eager mouth...

  I looked away, looked down, looked anywhere but at Will or Eleanor. I was blushing again.

  Charlie nudged me, grinning.

  “How long?” he whispered.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “How long’s it been, eh, Trude?”

  Just then, the minister spoke up. “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you.” His voice was oddly high-pitched and sing-song, and it was as if he was speaking directly to me, admonishing me for my wayward thoughts.

  Then, the congregation responded as one, catching me unawares: “And also with you.”

  I realized there was an Order of Service booklet, with the words and responses all printed out in some swirly, over-ornate font. This was the first time I’d been to an English wedding – the first time I’d been to an English church service, in fact. I tried to think back to films and novels for some clue as to how they did things. Four Weddings and a Funeral was the best I could do.

  I gave up, and picked up the booklet instead.

  St John’s Family Chapel

  Yeadham Hall

  The Marriage of

  Eleanor Eugenie Lydia Bentinck-Stanley

  and

  Ethan Luke Parsons

  “You didn’t answer,” whispered Charlie.

  “God of wonder and of joy: grace comes from you, and you alone are the source of life and love.” Those around me dipped their heads as the minister recited the first prayer. Ethan had his head bowed, but his eyes were fixed on Eleanor and a wide grin was plastered all over his face. It was so good to see him smiling like that: genuinely happy.

  “Without you, we cannot please you,” said the minister. “Without your love, our deeds are worth nothing.”

  The chapel was quite simple inside, the walls roughly plastered and whitewashed, the stained glass windows plain and almost childish in design, the blocks of color naive and bold. It reminded me of a children’s book I’d just been helping out with at Ellison and Coles. On the wall nearby there was a large stone plaque inscribed with the names of Henry Willem Bentinck and, in much smaller lettering, his wife Elizabeth, both of whom had died in the mid 18th century. A family with history, indeed, assuming the Bentincks had, at some stage, become the Bentinck-Stanleys.

  “Send your Holy Spirit, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of love, that we may worship you now with thankful hearts...”

  “So how long’s it been?”

  I was tempted to stamp on his instep, but decided against it. It was the first outing for these Jimmy Choos; I didn’t want to damage them. Instead, I smiled at him, which caught him off guard. He’d been expecting to wind me up – I’d always been an easy target.

  “How long it is since I’ve had sex is none of your business.” I spoke just loud enough for a few of the people nearby to hear, but not loud enough to interrupt the prayer. Charlie’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened, then he gave a quiet laugh and returned his attention to Ethan and Eleanor.

 
; “...and serve you always with willing minds; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

  Again, as one, the congregation responded, this time with “Amen.”

  The organ started up then, with a wheezy, reedy introduction to the first hymn.

  “So what have you been up to, then? Seeing anyone? Or not? Is that why you’re so grumpy?”

  I pretended to sing, although I didn’t know the hymn, and I couldn’t tell which was the tune and which the harmony – the voices around the church seemed to be all over the place.

  Why hadn’t my brother gotten married on a beach somewhere? Why this draughty, damp chapel in the middle of nowhere? A Long Island beach wedding would have been perfect; somewhere out in the Hamptons. We’d had family holidays there when we were kids: every August in a little cabin with steps down to a white sandy beach just outside Montauk. That would have been perfect.

  And why was it that Charlie could pick up on my moods so easily? I didn’t think I’d been particularly grumpy, but he’d spotted it, and I was definitely out of sorts, as he would put it.

  “I’m not grumpy,” I hissed. And if you argue with me, Charlie, I really will embed the rather high heel of one of my Jimmy Choos in your instep. I think he saw that in my eyes, because he fell silent for the rest of that hymn.

  As the last notes of the organ faded away, I followed the lead of those around me and sat. Across the aisle, Will was the last to sit, as if he’d actually fallen asleep on his feet.

  “In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Eleanor Eugenie Lydia and Ethan Luke, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”

  I watched Ethan. I’m an unashamed romantic, when it comes down to it. Every time my brother turned his head to glance at his bride I felt a surge of emotion. I wanted to cry already, which wasn’t a good sign. Little Miss Waterworks.

  Eleanor stood with her head half-turned, her eyes switching between Ethan and the minister as he recited his very long litany.

  She was beautiful, his English rose.

  “I miss you.” Charlie’s voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear.

  Bastard.

  He was toying with me. I was just a source of amusement for now. I knew what Charlie was like.

  But even after living with Charlie for a year, I still found it difficult to read him sometimes. For an apparently superficial man, he had a character of many layers, his serious depths obscured by a glib humor and that very English middle class veneer. Private schooling and generations of in-breeding had a lot to answer for.

  I tried to ignore what he’d just said. He misses me. No, saying something like that was just a natural progression from him prying into my admittedly sparse sex life. He was toying with me. Bastard seemed a suitable response. It usually was with Charlie.

  Instead, I tried to concentrate on the minister, and on Ethan and Eleanor. After a time, Charlie’s words were all but forgotten.

  I hadn’t realized quite how nervous I’d been about this day, but seeing my brother and his bride, the two of them so damned happy... well, all of my anxiety just vanished. Ethan had found his rose, and the day was set to be perfect.

  “The gift of marriage brings husband and wife together in the delight and tenderness of sexual union and joyful commitment to the end of their lives. It is given as the foundation of family life...”

  I looked at Charlie. He seemed nervous. As if perhaps he realized he’d exposed too much.

  I miss you.

  Okay. His words weren’t really forgotten. How could they be?

  Go on. Follow his lead. See if he really meant it. Those inner voices again, pointing the way.

  “Really?”

  There had been such a long interval since his words, I wondered for a moment if he understood what I was referring to.

  He glanced at me, then looked away, and I knew then that he knew exactly what I was asking.

  Did he really miss me? And if he did, what did I feel about that? Did I want him to miss me? Was there still some kind of unfinished business between Charlie and me?

  No. Really, there wasn’t. There couldn’t be. Too much had passed between us, too much had been said and done, too much time had gone by.

  But a girl can feel flattered, at least.

  I smiled at him, unsure if he would see out of the corner of his eye. Then I took his hand and squeezed.

  “First, I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.”

  This was when Charlie met my look, grinned, and tugged sharply at my hand.

  I struggled not to stagger forward, and I opened my mouth, just stifling a gasp. The minister looked at me, an eyebrow raised. I wasn’t sure if he was amused by Charlie’s prank, or exasperated at me.

  “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God,” continued the minister, “who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”

  Silence, all eyes on Ethan and Eleanor. All except for Charlie, who was looking at me, that cheeky, irritating, schoolboy smile on his face.

  “Bastard,” I hissed. “Just... Bastard.”

  §

  “I, Eleanor Eugenie Lydia, take you, Ethan Luke, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward.”

  She looked so pretty, so delicate. Her skin was almost as pale as the ivory dress, her eyes wide and dark. I was impressed that Eleanor had memorized her vows. I wondered if Ethan would do the same; he’d always had the memory of a goldfish.

  “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.”

  Okay, so a wedding in a tiny English country chapel had its charms, I’d admit that. Suddenly I felt close to tears again, moved by the atmosphere, and by the fact that it was my big brother up there, holding that English beauty’s hands, gazing into her eyes. Happy.

  I swallowed, determined not to let Charlie see how this whole thing had got to me.

  “To love, cherish, and obey, till death us do part.”

  Oh my word. I hadn’t anticipated that. So not only had Ethan found his English rose, one whose family seemed to own half of Norfolk – but she’d just promised to obey him! I hadn’t thought they still did that.

  Across the way, I saw Will again, something strange on his face. I wondered again whether he was an ex of Eleanor’s, and what must be going on inside his head right now. Was it all over between them? Was it recent?

  Suddenly I felt very protective of my brother. But then I remembered that Eleanor had just promised to obey him... Where had that come from? I’d never had Ethan down as the dominant, controlling kind. He was a pussycat.

  “According to God’s holy law,” concluded Eleanor. “In the presence of God I make this vow.”

  3.

  Do English weddings go on forever, or does it just feel that way?

  By the time Charlie stepped forward with the rings, I’d already studied every inch of stained glass, marveled again at the display of hats, feathers and garish colors on the bride’s side of the church, and read enough inscriptions and dedications to be left in no doubt as to the worthiness and long history of Eleanor’s family.

  Another prayer, then Ethan – his hands shaking so much! – placed the ring on Eleanor’s finger and spoke. “Eleanor Eugenie Lydia, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage.”

  I couldn’t see my brother’s face, as he stood turned to face Eleanor with his back to me. I so longed to see his face.

  “With my body I honor you, all that I am I give to you.” Eleanor’s eyes were wide, unblinking. She hung on his every word.

  And in the background, Will watched them closely. Were those a predator’s eyes? A jealous ex-lover’s? Or were they just hung-over eyes, glazed over, waiting for this all to be done with so he could either find a darkened room
or start drinking again?

  He saw me studying him.

  Dark eyes, fixed on mine. A hint of a smile. Something arrogant in that smile, something I couldn’t quite place. Then I remembered Charlie’s words from earlier: this was a man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted.

  I looked away.

  Seconds later, I glanced across again, my look swinging up from the floor, along the front row, past Will, to the array of gaudy hats beyond. I wasn’t really looking at him at all.

  But he was still looking at me.

  Since when had I blushed so easily?

  “And all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”

  God I was such a rush of emotions. No wonder my responses were all over the place. I realized I was holding Charlie's hand again, his touch reassuring. I leaned in towards him, the press of his arm something solid, reliable.

  It was Eleanor’s turn now. She took the ring, held it to Ethan’s finger, then slipped it on. “Ethan Luke, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage.”

  Just then, Charlie leaned closer, and spoke softly in my ear. “It’s okay,” he said. “I get it. You’re doing good, you hear? I’ll stick with you, okay?”

  I looked back into his eyes, and he squeezed my hand. I didn’t understand then what it was that he got, but suddenly I was really grateful for his presence. Good old unreadable Charlie. Crass and schoolboyish at all the wrong moments and then confounding you with god-damned sensitivity, of all things, just when you least expected it.

  “With my body I honor you, all that I am I give to you–”

  Ethan was still grinning like a mad thing. Even with his back to me, I could see the way the muscles tensed in his jaw and neck, his whole face pulled back in that stupid grin of his, that Dunkin’ Donuts grin.

  “–and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”

  I felt proud, I felt happy, I felt a great big surge of emotions bursting out. I don’t know what I felt, watching my brother like that, listening to him.

  “In the presence of God, and before this congregation,” said the minister, “Eleanor Eugenie Lydia and Ethan Luke have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife.”