by JS Taylor
“I think that could be arranged,” he replies. His face is alive with delight.
“You’re really serious?” he says. “You’d give it all up? The fame of acting? For us?”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that,” I say. “I’m not giving anything up. I enjoy acting. But I like writing more.”
I shrug. “I’m not like Natalie and Callum,” I explain. “I don’t want to be mobbed by adoring fans. I’d much rather have a normal life. And if that means we have less pressures as a couple, then all the better.”
James has the expression of a man who’s just made a double-lottery win.
“I don’t believe it,” he says. “You are too incredible.”
“In any case,” I add, glancing up at him shyly. “I don’t have to give up acting completely, do I?”
He’s face twists in puzzlement.
“Because I can act with you,” I say. He looks puzzled, and I give him a saucy grin. “In the bedroom,” I add.
James grins mischievously. “That won’t be a problem at all,” he says. “In fact, I have some scripts in my head right now I think we should act out.”
“Careful, Mr Berkeley,” I say. “You might be the director on set. But when it comes to scripts, we work as a team.”
Three months later
“Issy, I cannot believe how beautiful you look.” Lorna is looking me up and down, her eyes wide in amazement. “That dress.”
I giggle. “Thanks.”
I regard myself in the mirror. My white dress is like two outfits in one. The top half is elegant and understated, wrapping close around my body and exaggerating my hourglass curves. The bottom half flairs wide in a decadent wave of fabric, with more than a hint of flamenco.
“Blame my Spanish heritage,” I say, moving a curl of black hair away from my grey eyes. “I couldn’t resist having a dress with a little flair to it.”
Natalie and Camilla enter the room. They are dressed identically to Lorna, with retro-style floral dresses and bouquets of pink roses.
My beautiful bridesmaids.
My own bouquet was sent this morning by James. It is an artful swathe of deep red roses with a tiny perfect pearl in the centre of each.
“Ready?” asks Natalie. She looks more nervous than I do.
I take a breath.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Lorna takes my arm. “Come on Princess Issy. Let’s get you to your Prince Charming.”
James and I have chosen to be married in the Berkeley Estate private chapel. It’s a romantic little church on the rolling green grounds. For the last few weeks, I’ve been liaising with florists and decorators to cover the church in the perfect blend of flowers and silken ribbons.
With our two families converging here, I expected to be distracted by all kinds of things walking up the aisle.
But as I enter the church with Mami at my side and Lorna, Camilla and Natalie behind me, my attention is on one thing only.
Him.
James’s broad back is so familiar, I feel my heart leap in my chest. I curb a sudden urge to race down the aisle and throw myself into his arms.
James turns, and I see his face light up in amazement as he sees me.
I blush, and keep my eyes on him.
My James.
Then I’m at his side, and I feel his arm pull me close to him.
“You look stunning,” he whispers. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to star in one of my movies?”
I grin up at him. “Don’t you read the papers?” I ask. “I gave all that up for the man I love.”
Our vows are short, and heartfelt. And afterwards, we hold the reception in Berkeley Hall.
Lady Berkeley has arranged a spectacular wedding breakfast in the main dining room. I suspect she was only too happy to dispose of Lord Berkeley’s stuffed stag heads for the occasion, and I’m guessing they won’t be making a fast reappearance once the celebration is over.
James took charge of security, making sure no helicopters could fly over the grounds trying for paparazzi shots. But to my delight, our wedding in Berkeley Hall has attracted less press attention than I feared. Since the movie premiere, I’ve been deluged with offers of interviews and appearances. Talk is even rife that I’m in the running for an award.
But I’ve been patiently declining any chance to boost my celebrity status.
And the press have already started to lose interest in the actress who will never be interviewed.
Instead, they turn their attention to Natalie, Callum, and an up-and-coming couple named Camilla and Bradley.
Which means James and I can get on with finishing our script, and I’m crazy excited for when we start filming. I’m even nursing a hope that Emilia might be able to have a bit part. Since my visit, I’ve heard she’s gotten much stronger. And now the stalker is behind bars for good, Emilia has begun getting therapy and putting her trauma behind her.
Champagne is served, and the speeches begin. In an effort to build bridges, James has appointed his father best man. And rising to the challenge, Lord Berkeley delivers a moving speech, stating his wish to be involved more closely in his son’s life from now on.
As James stands to make his wedding speech, the guests fall to a hush. I gaze up at him adoringly.
My amazing husband. My heart is full to bursting.
“When I first met this beautiful girl,” begins James, “I knew my world had changed forever. What I didn’t know is just how much.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Issy, words cannot express how grateful I am for your faith and your love for me.”
I feel tears prick my eyes.
“Your strength has allowed me to forgive myself. I am more of a man because of you. I am my true self, because you allowed me to be.”
I wipe away a tear, but a sudden flood threatens to stream down my face.
His true self. I feel that way too.
James looks around at the guests.
“I am so happy,” he says, “that the rest of my life will be dedicated to loving and protecting my beautiful Issy. And I am indebted to you all for bearing witness to our marriage.”
He raises a glass. “To my lovely wife,” he announces, “Isabella Berkeley.”
Isabella Berkeley. I feel a flush of pride as the guests raise their glasses and say my new name.
I turn to see Mami beaming and Natalie, Camilla and Lorna raising their glasses high in toast. In the crowd, Callum and Will are watching on.
My aunt and uncle are here too, along with some of my friends from drama school. And a whole host of Berkeley relatives, who I’ve yet to properly meet, are in attendance.
James sits and kisses me, and I hear applause.
Wait a minute, I decide, it’s my wedding too.
Hardly knowing what I’m doing, I stand and clear my throat.
James looks at me in surprise. This wasn’t planned.
“Of course,” I begin, “my husband must know our marriage can’t start with him having the last word.”
There’s laughter, and I feel a spurt of bravery.
“So I think it’s only fair,” I add, “that I say a few words too. Like my husband, I am so grateful that you all came. Some of you from far away.”
I swallow. “And for my Mami and beautiful bridesmaids,” I continue, “I say thank you.” I take a breath. I’m getting the hang of this now. “But most of all, I want to thank my new husband. For loving me more than I ever thought was possible.”
I smile out at the crowd and feel a sea of happy faces looking back.
“So I hope you’ll join me,” I continue, “in some unfamiliar words, which mean a lot to James and I.”
I hold my glass up high. “This is a phrase from Mauritius, which James taught me.” I pause, framing the phrase in my head. Then I say our words.
“Mo content toi,” I announce as I make the toast.
I see a flicker of emotion on Lord Berkeley’s face, and he is the first to raise his glass. The other guests
proffer theirs. And suddenly the whole room is speaking together.
“Mo content toi!” The foreign phrase sounds out uncertainly across the room.
I see guests look at one another, wondering what they are saying. But my eyes are on James. And in this crowded room, those three words have bought us a sudden, private moment.
His green eyes are shining.
“Mo content toi,” he mouths, his gaze fixed on mine.
I murmur it back, knowing this promise, like our wedding vows, is forever.
Mo content toi. James Berkeley. For forever and always.
The place where my heart feels at home.
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Star Struck, the next JS Taylor
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