Falling for the Bridesmaid

by Sophie Pembroke

  * * *

  The pride in his chest felt too big for his body, as if it might burst out of him at any moment. Never mind talking to the press on the phone or holding meetings with managers. Violet had put herself back out there—completely. She’d stood up in front of the crowd, the press and everyone watching on TV and declared herself part of the world again. A woman with a mission.

  She wasn’t ashamed any more, and it was beautiful.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Rose bounced up next to him, pure delight shining from her face.

  ‘She was magnificent!’ Daisy agreed.

  ‘She most certainly was,’ Sherry said, smiling with pride.

  ‘Where is she?’ Rose asked. ‘I need to hug her.’

  ‘Not until I do,’ Tom murmured, and the three women turned to look at him.

  Which was, of course, when Violet bounded in.

  ‘Vi! You were brilliant!’ Rose and Daisy reached for their sister, and Violet grinned—but her gaze was fixed on Tom’s face. He could feel it, even as he stared back.

  ‘Sorry, guys, but I need to talk to Tom,’ Violet said.

  They both ignored the knowing looks her family exchanged as they headed out of the private area, past the edge of the crowd and around through some of the smaller stalls set up on the outskirts of the concert. Tom vaguely recognised some of the women from the village manning one of the charity support stalls. As they passed them, Violet waved, then reached out to hold Tom’s hand. Another sign she was done worrying about what others thought? He hoped so.

  Of course, right now he was more interested in finding out exactly what she thought about their potential future together.

  Eventually, they reached the security barriers out of the concert site, and Violet slipped them through with her pass. ‘Where are we going?’ Tom asked.

  Violet shrugged. ‘It doesn’t really matter. I just...some things are still private, right?’ She flashed him a quick smile and tugged him further along, until they were surrounded by trees at the edge of the wood. ‘This will do.’

  Tom wanted to ask what, exactly, it would do for. But Violet seemed nervous enough. For once, he’d have to curb his natural impulse to ask questions, lots of them, and let her talk in her own time.

  Sometimes, he’d learnt, you got the best interviews that way.

  Violet sucked in a deep breath, then let it out again. Tom stamped down on the impatience rising inside him. He had to let her take her time.

  ‘Okay, so...I learnt something while you were gone. Or realised something, I guess. That...maybe people have never been able to move past my past, so to speak, because I’ve never done anything else. I need to replace those memories—those stories and those jokes—with new and better ones.’

  ‘And that’s what you were doing up there on the stage,’ Tom guessed.

  Violet nodded. ‘Starting to, anyway. And it means moving on. Not just from that stupid sex tape, but from the last eight years of hiding, too. Of not trusting anyone and always expecting the worst.’

  ‘Well...good.’ Because that sounded positive. But he still needed to hear her say the words.

  Violet looked up and met his gaze, her eyes wide and blue and totally open for the first time since he’d met her. ‘My mum and dad, they always say that when you know, you know. And I think they’re right.’ The side of her mouth twisted up into a half smile. ‘And I did know, deep down. It was just hard to see, behind all that doubt and fear and mistrust.’

  ‘And now?’ Tom asked, his heart thumping too hard, too loud in his chest.

  ‘And being without you...it swept all that away. It hurt so much to be apart from you that none of the rest of it mattered any more. All that mattered was telling you that I love you. And I trust you. I do.’

  ‘Really?’ God, why couldn’t he just take her words at face value?

  Violet took his hand between hers. ‘Enough to trust you with the rest of my life. If you’ll have me.’

  Tom blinked. ‘You want to get married?’

  Violet smiled, slow and warm. ‘Why not? It seems to be all the rage this year. Besides, when you know, you know.’ She reached up and kissed him once on the lips. ‘And I know that whatever happens, whatever you’ve done or whatever you will do, I trust you to do it for us, not just for a quick story. I’m not the same person I was when that sex tape was made, and I know you’re not the same person who let his editor use that story. And I’m not interested in who we were. Only who we can be together.’

  And that was all he needed to know. Wrapping his arms tight around her waist, he pulled Violet close, kissing her long and deep until the sounds of the concert, the lights, even the breeze through the trees ceased to register. All that mattered was him and Violet, and their future together.

  Finally, he pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against hers. ‘You did the same for me, you know,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘I spent so many years carrying around the guilt from that story, from my mom never knowing that I realised she was right, even if it was a little late. Meeting you...it made me face that guilt, and all my preconceptions about who you were. If you hadn’t shown me that it was possible to move beyond our own pasts...I never could have come back here today. I never could have told you I love you too.’

  Violet kissed him again, swift and sharp and full of feeling. But Tom wasn’t done talking.

  ‘I should get down on one knee, I know, but I don’t want to move that far away from you,’ he said, and Violet laughed. ‘Violet Huntingdon-Cross. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  ‘Only if you’ll do me the honour of being my husband,’ Violet said, and kissed him again.

  ‘Then it’s settled. Your mum gets to plan another wedding.’ He squeezed her tighter. ‘What do you think? Next summer? Big celebrity bash?’

  Violet laughed. ‘Haven’t you heard? The Huntingdon-Cross sisters don’t wait that long for their happy ever afters.’

  ‘True.’ Tom smiled. ‘Next month, then?’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ Violet said. ‘I’m ready to start our new lives. Together.’

  EPILOGUE

  THE SUMMER SUN shone down on Huntingdon Hall as crowds gathered for the fourth, and final, Huntingdon-Cross wedding celebration of the year. Violet peeked through the curtains of her bedroom, careful not to be seen, and watched the cars pulling up on the long driveway.

  Somewhere out there, probably pacing with his soon-to-be brothers-in-law at his side, was her fiancé. She wondered what Tom was making of being the centre of attention for once, instead of just writing about other people’s fame.

  ‘Are you ready?’ At the sound of her twin’s voice, Violet let the curtain fall back into place and turned to smile at Rose.

  ‘More ready than I thought I could ever be,’ Violet said.

  Stepping forward, the lavender silk of her bridesmaid’s dress rustling around her, Rose hugged her sister, a feeling so warm and familiar that Violet felt love in every squeeze.

  ‘Mum is downstairs, waiting to give final approval on the three of us before she heads out to the ceremony area,’ Daisy said, her seven-months-pregnant bump appearing a moment before the rest of her came through the door. ‘And Dad’s just putting the finishing touches to his speech. Again.’

  ‘“Final approval”?’ Violet asked with a smile. ‘Is she worried Daisy might get jam on her dress, like she did when she was bridesmaid at Uncle Jez’s second wedding?’ The pang of pain at the thought of Jez was still there, but already it felt more like a loving memory than a searing loss. The hole he’d left would always be there, but they’d learn to live with it, Violet knew, to move on and make his death meaningful, at least.

  ‘I was five!’ Daisy pointed out indignantly.

  ‘Just think, soon it will be your little bump trailing down the aisle in jam-smeared taffeta, leaving rose petals in her wake,’ Rose said.

  ‘Well, as long as it’s not me, for once,’ Violet said, checking her reflection one last time before t
hey headed downstairs. ‘I’m done being a bridesmaid, I think.’

  ‘And today you’re the bride.’ Daisy’s words came out a little watery, and Rose handed her a tissue for the inevitable tears.

  ‘Don’t start yet,’ Rose said. ‘We’ve got the whole ceremony to get through!’

  ‘Not to mention Dad’s speech,’ Violet added. She wasn’t sure if she was dreading or looking forward to hearing which tales of her life Rick Cross thought appropriate to share with the assembled company.

  ‘Can’t help it,’ Daisy sniffed. ‘Hormones.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Rose replied. ‘A convenient excuse. They don’t seem to be slowing you down any, though, do they? Seb was telling me all about your plans for Hawkesley Castle and his new TV series at dinner last night. It would be nauseating how much that man dotes on you if it wasn’t so well deserved.’

  Daisy elbowed Rose in the ribs. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t shed a tear or two when you were making those gorgeous rings for Violet and Tom.’

  ‘Maybe just one,’ Rose admitted. ‘And they are very pretty, aren’t they?’

  ‘They’re perfect,’ Violet said. ‘Just like everything else about today. Now, come on, let’s go present ourselves for inspection.’

  Violet followed her sisters out of the room, pausing to shut the door behind her. Strange to think she was leaving this place as herself, but would be returning as a married woman. Almost as impossible to believe as the thought of her getting married at all.

  But here she was, with her sisters at her side, preparing to say I do to the last man she’d ever imagined marrying. And she couldn’t be happier.

  Sherry Huntingdon-Cross clapped her hands together with delight at the sight of them. ‘Oh, don’t you all look perfect,’ she gushed before wedding planner mode took over again. ‘Right, I’m going to head down and take my seat—that’s the sign for the ushers to get everyone else seated. Rose, Daisy, you follow just behind me. Then Rick—where is your father, anyway?’

  ‘Here, honey.’ Rick Cross came rushing out of his studio, shoving pieces of paper into his pocket. ‘Just a couple of last-minute edits. Don’t worry,’ he added with a wink at Violet. ‘I kept the story about that time you fell in the pond at that hotel roof garden when we were on tour in Europe.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ Violet said unconvincingly.

  ‘Right,’ Sherry said again, commanding everyone’s attention. ‘I’m leaving. Daisy, Rose, prepare to follow.’

  The wedding procession had been timed to perfection. As her father took her arm and led her out of the front door of her childhood home behind her sisters, Violet took a deep breath and followed her family down to the shady clearing, just behind the trees, where they’d set up the chairs and ceremony area. It wasn’t a huge wedding—despite Sherry’s attempts—but neither was it the tiny one Violet would have insisted on even a few months ago.

  She wasn’t scared to share her new happiness, to let others see her moving on with her life in exciting new directions. She wasn’t hiding any more.

  At the front of the aisle, Tom turned, as if sensing her presence, and Violet couldn’t hold back her smile at the sight of him in his perfect suit, waiting for her to join him.

  ‘You ready for this, honey?’ Rick asked as the string quartet struck up the canon.

  ‘How could I not be?’ Violet whispered back. ‘After all, when you know, you know.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A MILLIONAIRE FOR CINDERELLA by Barbara Wallace.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  HOW LONG DID it take to examine one little old lady? Patience paced the length of the hospital emergency room for what felt like the hundredth time. What was taking so long?

  “Excuse me.” She knocked on the glass window separating the admissions desk from the rest of the emergency waiting area. “My...grandmother...has been back there for a long time.” She figured the lie would get her more sympathy than saying “my employer.” Luckily there’d been a shift change; the previous nurse on duty would have called her on it. “Is there any way I can find out what’s happening?”

  The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, we’re really busy today, and things are backed up. I’m sure a doctor will be out to talk with you soon.”

  Easy for her to say. She hadn’t found her employer crumpled at the foot of a stairwell.

  Ana’s cry replayed in her head. Frail, weak. If only she hadn’t been in the other room...if only she hadn’t told Nigel he needed to wait for his dinner, then Ana wouldn’t be here. She’d be having her tea in the main salon like she did every afternoon.

  Patience couldn’t help her sad, soft chuckle. A year ago she didn’t know what a salon was. Goes to show how much working for Ana had changed her life. If only Ana knew how she’d rescued Patience, taking her from the dark and dirty and bringing her into a place that was bright and clean.

  Of course, Ana couldn’t know. As far as Patience was concerned, her life started the day she began cleaning house for Anastasia Duchenko. Everything she did beforehand had been washed away.

  The hospital doors opened with a soft whoosh, announcing the arrival of another visitor. Immediately, the atmosphere in the room changed, and not because of the June heat disrupting the air-conditioning. The conversations stilled as all attention went to the new arrival. Even the admissions nurse straightened. For a second, Patience wondered if a local celebrity had walked in. The air had that kind of expectancy.

  His tailored shirt and silk tie screamed superiority as did his perfect posture. A crown of brown curls kept his features from being too harsh, but only just. No doubt about it, this was a man who expected to be in charge. Bet he wouldn’t be kept waiting an hour.

  The man strode straight to the admissions window. Patience was about to resume her pacing when she heard him say the name Duchenko.

  Couldn’t be a coincidence. This could be the break she needed to find out about Ana. She combed her dark hair away from her face, smoothed the front of her tee shirt and stepped forward. “Excuse me, did I hear you ask about Ana Duchenko?”

  He turned in her direction. “Who’s asking?”

  For a moment, Patience lost the ability to speak. He was looking down at her with eyes the same shade as the blue in a flame, the hue so vivid it couldn’t possibly be real. Lit with intensity, they were the kind of eyes that you swore were looking deep inside your soul. “Patience,” she replied, recovering. “I’m Patience Rush.”

  She didn’t think it possible for his stare to intensify but it did. “Aunt Anastasia’s housekeeper?”

  His aunt. Suddenly Patience realized who she was talking to. This was Stuart Duchenko, Ana’s great-nephew, the one who called twice a week. Actually, as far as she knew, the only Duchenko relative Ana talked to. Patience didn’t know why, other than there’d been some kind of rift and Ana refused to deal with what she called “the rest of the sorry lot.” Only Stuart, who managed her financial affairs, remained in her good graces.

  “I thought you were in Los Angeles,” she said after he introduced himself. Ana said he’d been stuck there for almost a year while some billionaire’s family argued over a will.

  “My case finished yesterday. What happened?”

  “Nigel happened.” Nigel bein
g Ana’s overly indulged cat.

  She could tell from Stuart’s expression, he didn’t find the answer amusing. Not that she could blame him under the circumstances. She wondered, though, if he would find the story amusing under any circumstances. His mouth didn’t look like it smiled much.

  “He was in the foyer meowing,” she continued. “Letting everyone know that his dinner was late. Near as I can guess, when Ana came down the stairs, he started weaving around her ankles, and she lost her balance.”

  He raised a brow. “Near as you can guess?”

  Okay, the man was definitely an attorney; Patience felt she was on trial with all the questions. Of course, that could also be her guilty conscience bothering her. “I was in the dining room polishing the silver. I heard Ana cry out, but by the time I got there, she was already on the floor.” She shuddered, remembering. The image of Ana crumpled at the foot of the stairs, moaning, wouldn’t leave her soon.

  Ana’s nephew didn’t respond other than to stare long and hard in her direction before turning back to the admissions nurse. “I’d like to see my aunt, please,” he said. It might have been said softly, like a request, but there was no mistaking the command in his voice.

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Finally, they were getting somewhere. “I’ve been trying to get an update on Ana’s condition since we arrived, but no one would tell me anything.”

  “Nor would they,” he replied. “Privacy laws. You’re not family.”

  Well, wasn’t somebody feeling territorial. Never mind that she was the one who’d brought Ana in and filled out the admissions paperwork. Anyone with two heads could see she cared about the woman. What difference did it make whether she was family or not?

  She had to admit, Ana’s nephew wasn’t at all what she expected. Ana was always talking about how sweet “her Stuart” was. Such a pussycat, she’d coo after hanging up the phone. The man standing next to her wasn’t a pussy anything. He was far too predatory. She could practically smell the killer instinct.