Karen was overwhelmed. Everything was happening so fast. She had assumed that the wedding would be small, but Shane was talking about inviting hundreds of people instead of dozens. She sipped her orange juice as she tried to think. Her friends were all so far away. It was such a long way to drive for just two or three hours and then there would be the long drive back. Most of her school friends would be leaving for college about that time and, besides, none of them would fit in with Shane's friends—they were all so much younger.
Shane's words broke into her thoughts. "I called my secretary yesterday and told her to find out who is the most popular wedding consultant in the Bay Area and send her down here. Her name is Julie Warner and she'll be here about eleven. She'll take charge of planning the wedding, so if there's anything special you want be sure to let her know."
Julie Warner was a study in contrasts. She looked like a sex kitten and thought like an army general. Shane was delighted with his secretary's choice and spent the rest of the day closeted with Julie drawing up and discarding plans for a wedding more suited to a princess than the young daughter of a college instructor. Karen was allowed to stay around but they seldom bothered to consult her, and when they did she was so confused that she couldn't be of any help anyway.
The next morning Shane returned to San Francisco and took Karen with him. She was wildly excited as she and Taffy packed enough clothes to last her for the rest of the week. She looked forward to the two-hour drive. Maybe in the close intimacy of the car they could talk, make plans, learn a little more about each other. If Shane would just give her time to think instead of demanding instant decisions, she could tell him what she wanted.
Again she was disappointed. Shane turned on the car's magnificent stereo system and the semiclassical music that surrounded them was soothing and peaceful but made conversation difficult. She finally gave up and slept.
She was aware of the change in traffic pattern as they entered the city but was too drowsy to sit up. When the car finally stopped she opened her eyes to find Shane bending over her, his face close to hers, smiling.
"Do you always go to sleep when you ride in a car?"
She knew he was remembering the first day they met when she'd slept in Mark's arms on the way to Shane's home on the Monterey Peninsula. She stretched and he took her in his arms and nuzzled the side of her neck, sending shivers through her. She snuggled against him and ran her fingers through his hair. It was clean and thick and cut so that it followed the shape of his head. She kissed his cheek and murmured, "The first time I slept in your car you got mad at me."
He raised his head and looked into her solemn green eyes. "Mark was right—I was jealous."
She brushed a lock of raven hair off his forehead. "But you didn't even know me then."
"I knew all I needed to know." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I knew you were going to be a real threat to my nervous system if I kept you with me for long."
He lowered his head and his mouth covered hers. It was the first time he'd kissed her in the four days since she'd agreed to marry him but his kiss hadn't lost any of its potency. With a little shiver her arms tightened, and he pulled her closer as his lips forced hers apart and his tongue plundered her sweetness. One hand settled on her hip and the other found its way under her pullover shirt, sending tongues of fire down her spine. His fingers caressed her unencumbered breasts and the kiss deepened just as a horn sounded several times beside them. They pulled apart and Karen saw that they were in an underground parking garage and a car had pulled into the space next to them. The driver grinned and waved and Shane swore under his breath but waved back.
Karen pulled down her shirt and her eyes questioned Shane. "Don Sanderson," he explained. "A dentist who has the condominium just below mine. Come on—we'd better get out so I can introduce you." He sounded angry again, and Karen was once more at a loss to know what she'd done.
The condominium was pure luxury but on a smaller scale than the house. Shane employed a middle-aged couple, Gus and Bertha Hess, who lived in and took care of it. The living room window overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge, that miracle of suspension, and from her bedroom next to Shane's she could see the city laid out before her. Shane set her suitcase on the stand and said, "Change into something pretty. We're meeting Julie Warner for lunch and afterward she's taking you shopping for a wedding gown and trousseau."
Lunch in San Francisco was not a meal but an experience. The small bar, in an alley off the mainstream of traffic, catered to the discriminating and the rich. The diners looked like business executives with their expensive clothes and sophisticated manners. Both Shane and Julie were known and catered to and Karen felt out of place once again. The meal was good but she lost her appetite when Shane and Julie got so wrapped up in their conversation that they ignored her.
Afterward Julie took Karen shopping. Karen expected to go to department stores and try on dresses. Not so. The salon had no racks of dresses—just couches and coffee tables and acres of soft beige carpet. They were served coffee and cake while tall, thin models paraded around the room in every possible design of wedding gown. All of them looked too overpowering for her tiny frame but the elegant lady in charge picked two that she assured Karen would be exactly right when made up in her size 3 petite. Karen was doubtful but she finally chose one that she hoped would not submerge her completely. As the seamstress took Karen's measurements, Julie explained that it would have to be a rush job as the wedding was less than two weeks away. The brittle, sophisticated lady in charge nodded her understanding.
"Of course. You understand we will have to charge extra—the overtime and all—but we're used to this." Her fingers spanned Karen's tiny waistline and she said, "It would be better to allow for a little expansion right here, although she shouldn't put on more than an inch in such a short time."
For a minute Karen was puzzled, then she felt the blood rush to her face as she understood. She pulled away from the woman's grasp and her voice shook as she said, "I'm not pregnant! Now please bring my clothes so we can leave!"
The woman's face registered surprise and Julie intervened. "Don't be so naive, Karen! So many of the brides now are pregnant that they even have a line of maternity wedding dresses. It was a natural mistake. She wasn't making a moral judgment."
The woman apologized profusely, and Karen decided that it wasn't worth making an issue of.
When they finished taking her measurements she dressed, and once more the models paraded before them—this time in outfits for the trousseau. Karen kept her order simple, buying only those clothes she would really need for the next few months. The only reason she was getting married was to get pregnant and she assumed that this would happen without too much delay. Then she would need maternity clothes, and since Shane was determined to get rid of her once the baby was born she wanted nothing from him but what was necessary to raise his child—his son, she reminded herself.
It was that evening that Karen finally had a chance to talk to Shane alone. They were having coffee in the den and he asked about her shopping trip. She told him about the woman who thought she was pregnant and his eyes darkened with regret as he reached for her and drew her close beside him on the couch. His strong slender fingers smoothed her long golden brown hair back from her cheek as he said, "My poor baby, I should have thought of that. I forgot that most people have minds like cesspools. I should have set the wedding date a couple of months away instead of a couple of weeks." His arm tightened around her and he pressed her cheek against the silky smoothness of his shirt front as his voice grew husky and he murmured almost to himself, "I—I couldn't wait any longer."
No, she thought bitterly, he couldn't wait to get this show on the road—to have an heir and get rid of me.
She pulled away from him and sat up. Might as well get on with the plans so there wouldn't be any delays. She cleared her throat and said, "Shane, I've been thinking about attendants. Do I have to have more than one?"
He looked surprised. "N
ot if that's all you want. Who are you going to ask?"
"Could I—could I ask Taffy?"
"Taffy!" he almost shouted. "You mean our Taffy?"
"Yes."
"But she's the maid!" He stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Don't you have any close friends?"
She knew she'd botched it. "Yes, but they're scattered all over the country at colleges, or will be by then. Besides, this was never meant to be a real, lasting marriage and I don't want them to think I can't hold a man for more than a year."
He opened his mouth to say something then closed it and his eyes darkened as he looked at her for a long moment. She was the first to look away and his voice was surprisingly soft as he said, "Karen…"
She had to stop him before he said something about her being too immature and she squeaked a little as she spoke. "Besides, I'll probably want to marry again someday and it won't make it easy to get a husband if all the boys I know think I failed with one marriage in such a short time."
The tender look was gone and his mouth was a hard, thin line as he got up and stood with his back to her. "So, you're already making plans to marry some young punk who hasn't two dimes to rub together and let me support both of you!"
She knew what he was talking about. The financial settlement they had reached included a generous monthly allowance for the rest of her life. There was no clause cutting it off if she married again. Her statement had been a bluff; she knew she could never love another man after Shane but she couldn't back down now. She sounded more confident than she felt when she said, "What difference does it make to you what I do with my life once you've taken my child away? You'll have what you want!"
His shoulders slumped and he ran his hand over his hair as he answered. "You're right, it's none of my business what you do once you're no longer responsible for my son." He turned and started out of the room. "Do whatever you like about an attendant. I have to go out for a while; don't wait up for me."
The wedding was set for the first Saturday in September at two o'clock in the afternoon and the day dawned bright and clear. Karen awoke at five. Last night Shane had insisted she take a tranquilizer before going to bed and she'd dropped right off to sleep, but she knew there would be no more rest this day. She got out of bed, pulled on jeans, a heavy sweater, and her walking shoes, and slipped quietly down the stairs and out of the huge silent house. She shuddered as she thought of the more than two hundred guests who would be arriving, as well as the extra help, the florists, the caterers, the musicians—
At least she wouldn't have to endure Audrey Templeton. Audrey, one of the bored, restless jet set had left on a round-the-world tour before the wedding plans were announced, and no one knew how to get in touch with her. Karen could imagine Audrey's reaction when she came back to find Shane married to Karen!
She determinedly shut off her thoughts and jammed her hands in her pockets as she headed down the cliff toward the grassy arbor where she had slept in Shane's arms. She shivered at the memory and wondered why she felt depressed. Why wasn't she bubbling with happiness? In a few more hours she and Shane would be repeating their wedding vows; tonight she would again lie in his arms, this time in his big bed, where he would make love to her. Wasn't that what she'd been wanting all along? Wasn't that why she'd agreed to this madness?
The steep descent claimed her attention, but when she reached the arbor the grass was wet with early morning dew, so she climbed up on the rock above it and sat looking out across the calm, incredibly blue ocean. There was no fog this morning—maybe it was a good omen. A wedding day as beautiful as this one must surely mean happiness. Happiness?
She looked back toward the house sitting like a castle in all its splendor amid the profusely blooming flower gardens and the rolling green lawn. For the next year she would be Shane McKittrick's wife and mistress of all she surveyed. Surely she should feel at least a spark of joy. Little Karen Muir, who had lived all her life in a house that probably cost less than the furnishings in one room of this house, would have servants to command, a fleet of cars at her disposal, and the doors of all the beautiful people opened to her, and she didn't have the good sense to appreciate it.
She moved restlessly and drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. What was the matter with her anyway? She'd gone into this with her eyes wide open. She'd shamelessly thrown herself at Shane until he agreed to marry her. She'd argued with Mark when he told her she was a fool. She knew beyond doubt that she loved Shane, so what was her problem? Surely with at least a year as his wife she could make him fall in love with her, too. She didn't really believe he'd want a divorce after their baby was born. She knew she attracted him physically, that was one thing he couldn't hide. Weren't lust and love almost the same thing? He liked her, was protective of her—he'd even admitted he was jealous of Mark—so surely it was just a matter of time until he fell in love with her.
But was it? Did she really know Shane? She'd thought she did, but in the two weeks since she'd agreed to marry him he'd been so distant. She'd hardly seen him, and when she did he was busy conferring with Julie or a caterer or a photographer. He was sparing no expense for this wedding, but was he really planning a wedding or was it a deluxe business party with a marriage ceremony as part of the entertainment?
She heard a car door slam in the distance and looked at her watch. Six o'clock. That would be Henri, hurrying to set his pastry dough to rise so the early arrivals could have crescent rolls, coffee cake, and doughnuts with their coffee. Her stomach turned over at the thought of food. She couldn't be sick! Not today!
She slid off the rock and dusted herself off with her hands. The household was stirring; she'd better get back.
Taffy came to Karen's room at eight with breakfast for two and they ate on the balcony that opened off her room and overlooked the cove between the two jutting cliffs at the side of the property. Karen hadn't asked Taffy to be her maid of honor, knowing it would embarrass Shane, but there was no one else she wanted so she asked Shane to make a selection. He chose the young daughter of the federal district court judge who was going to perform the ceremony. The girl's name was Janice and Karen had met her just once, when they discussed the gown she would wear.
Shane must have understood Karen's need for a friend, however, because he'd promoted Taffy to be Karen's personal maid and companion. But she couldn't confide her fears even to Taffy.
At nine the florists arrived, at ten the caterer started moving in, and at eleven the first out-of-town guests were at the door. Karen stayed in her room, since she wasn't needed for anything; Julie and Shane were directing this production. She was not expected to put in an appearance until the familiar strains of the wedding march from Lohengrin signaled the start of the ceremony. She felt like the star of the show. The production revolved around her but all she was expected to do was learn her lines and show up at the appointed time in the proper costume.
At twelve the hairdresser arrived and set her hair, after which Taffy drew her a warm, soothing bath, and she soaked in bubbles for half an hour. When she got out of the tub she wrapped herself in a terry robe and the hairdresser brushed out her hair, then pulled the top and sides high on her head in masses of curls, but let the back hang free to well below her shoulders. Karen approved. It made her look older and a little taller. Next the hairdresser applied her makeup, skillfully adding color to her unnaturally pale cheeks.
At one forty-five Taffy helped her into her wedding dress. She was pleased with the way the designer had modified the original. It was made of a lighter weight material and had been stripped of most of the nonessential decoration. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and watched as Taffy zipped the long back zipper. A layered organza collar trimmed the scoop neckline and supplied capelike short sleeves for her bare upper arms. The overskirt, in sheer dotted swiss trimmed at the bottom with a row of white daisies, provided an apron effect and stopped just above the deep flounce that became a short train at the back. Karen wa
s reminded of a milkmaid.
Next came the veil, wispy material that was attached to a coronet for added height and fell to the waist in back.
Taffy was ecstatic. "Oh, Karen, it's beautiful! You're the loveliest bride I've ever seen. Hey, don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup!"
Karen wiped at the tears that threatened to overflow. She knew she was being silly but she was so lonely. All her life she had dreamed of her wedding day, always with her mother hovering over her, helping her dress, combing her hair, and her father, looking young and handsome in a tuxedo, walking beside her down the aisle. Well, today was that day but there were no loving parents or lifelong friends to share it with her. She was a stranger at her own wedding!
There was a knock on the door and her maid of honor, Janice, entered, looking radiant in delicate blush pink. She handed Karen a cascade of white orchids and fern. Her own bouquet was identical but her orchids were sprayed a deep rose.
The organ, which had been playing steadily for the past half hour, was silent. Then the tenor voice of the soloist, a friend of Shane's from the chorus of the San Francisco Opera Company, filled the air, accompanied by the now subdued tones of the organ. This was the signal for Karen and Janice to appear at the top of the stairway. The girls quickly peeked in the mirror then hurried down the hall, Janice first, Karen behind.
As they stood there listening to the solo, Karen knew that Shane and Mark, the best man, were standing at the bottom of the stairs, but she couldn't see them, nor they her. She was several steps behind Janice, who would descend the stairs first. The florists had lined both sides of the stairway with greenery and there were baskets of orchids at the top and bottom. So much beauty and so much expense, and for what? she asked herself.
The soloist hit a clear, high note and the song was finished. Karen held her breath as the organist struck the first strains of the wedding march and Janice started slowly down the stairs. Karen waited for Janice to reach the third step then started her descent.
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