‘Yeah.’ James smiled back at his best man. Jack was right. This was nothing like his wedding with Sophia. Instead of having all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, the ridiculous security, he and Charlotte had talked to the press and done a deal: they’d pose for photographs after the wedding in return for a decent donation to hospital funds and being left alone to enjoy the rest of their wedding.
A small wedding, with just their closest family and friends attending. Not people who wanted to boost their celebrity rating, people who were coming to the wedding because they wanted to celebrate James and Charlotte’s happiness. A wedding full of love rather than bling.
Admittedly they were having the wedding in the most upmarket hotel in St Piran, and were holding the reception there, too; Charlotte had agreed to compromise that far.
James had stayed at the hotel the previous night, with his parents and his brother Mark, while Charlotte had stayed in their new house with her parents. Melinda and Dragan had been kind enough to take in Dylan and Pandora for the weekend, because Charlotte had worried in case the cat and the pup wouldn’t settle into boarding kennels.
And today she was going to marry him. Pledge her love in front of the people they loved most.
He glanced at his watch again. And almost exactly at the moment the second hand reached the number twelve, Jack nudged him and the first notes of Bach’s ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’ floated into the air, played by a solo cellist.
She was here.
James had a huge lump in his throat as he turned to see his bride walk towards him, holding her father’s arm and wearing the dress she’d managed to keep a secret from him over the last few weeks. A knee-length confection in lilac taffeta, with a sweetheart neckline, matching lilac high-heeled court shoes and lavender pearls. She was carrying a bouquet of white roses and white tulips with frilly lilac edges; her hair was loose, in a mass of soft waves, and James had never seen her look more beautiful.
‘I love you,’ he said as she joined him in front of the registrar.
She smiled at him, a smile that reached her eyes and made the whole room feel as if it were bathed in sunshine. ‘I love you, too.’
‘And I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the rest of our life together.’
She laughed. ‘I thought about being late. But then I remembered that my husband-to-be isn’t the patient type.’
‘I can learn. Everything’s possible, with you by my side.’
The rest of the ceremony was a blur, as were the photographs afterwards, but James felt as if his smile was a mile wide. All through the formal meal, he kept looking at his bride and kept wanting to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming—that he really had got this lucky.
And then finally it was the evening reception. A reception with a slight difference—because they’d merged two homes and had everything, Charlotte has asked people to donate tombola prizes rather than give wedding presents. All the proceeds were going to be split between the rape crisis centre and the hospital. And so far people had been incredibly generous, both with their donations and with buying tickets.
Charlotte had sold tombola tickets to all the paparazzi, too. Even the most hard-bitten snapper had softened at her smile and paid up with pleasure.
The first dance was a proper waltz, played only on the piano: Tchaikovsky’s ‘Sleeping Beauty’ waltz. Charlotte had suggested it: ‘It reminds me of the moment I fell in love with you, James. The night you gave me a dress that made me feel like a princess and danced with me—and kissed me.’
It was a precious memory for him, too. And he knew he’d remember this moment for the rest of his life. Holding his bride in his arms, dancing with her in perfect teamwork.
As the last notes died away, James spirited Charlotte out to the balcony. The stars were just coming out and they could see the moon reflected on the sea.
‘I hope you didn’t mind us having glitzy ballroom dancing for the reception,’ he said, stroking her face.
‘Given your penchant for flashy things,’she teased, ‘I could hardly object.’
‘Hey, sometimes you need to put on a bit of glitz.’He kissed her, feeling her mouth open beneath his and feeling as if he’d finally come home. ‘But the important thing is what’s behind the glitz,’ he said softly. ‘With you, I know I’ve got the most important things in life—things that a year ago I never thought I’d know. Trust, and love.’
‘Me, too,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘You’ve taught me to trust again.’And then she laughed.
‘What?’
‘Listen,’ she said.
He did. The band was playing ‘True Love’, from the film high society.
‘This,’ she said, ‘could be our song. Admittedly you’re the one with the posh background, and I’m just an ord—’
He spun her round and kissed the rest of the words from her lips. ‘There’s nothing remotely ordinary about you, Charlotte Alexander. But the sentiment behind the song’s about right. I love you. For ever. And I’ll always be true.’
She kissed him back. ‘I love you, too, James. Truly. And for ever.’
A MOTHER FOR THE ITALIAN’S TWINS
BY
MARGARET MCDONAGH
Margaret McDonagh says of herself: ‘I began losing myself in the magical world of books from a very young age, and I always knew that I had to write, pursuing the dream for over twenty years, often with cussed stubbornness in the face of rejection letters! Despite having numerous romance novellas, short stories and serials published, the news that my first “proper book” had been accepted by Harlequin Mills & Boon for their Medical™ Romance line brought indescribable joy! Having a passion for learning makes researching an involving pleasure, and I love developing new characters, getting to know them, setting them challenges to overcome. The hardest part is saying goodbye to them, because they become so real to me. And I always fall in love with my heroes! Writing and reading books, keeping in touch with friends, watching sport and meeting the demands of my four-legged companions keeps me well occupied. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I loved writing it.’
www.margaretmcdonagh.com [email protected]
Recent titles by the same author:
ITALIAN DOCTOR, DREAM PROPOSAL
THE REBEL SURGEON’s PROPOSAL
THE EMERGENCY DOCTOR CLAIMS HIS WIFE
DR DEVEREUX’s PROPOSAL*
*Brides of Penhally Bay
CHAPTER ONE
‘GOOD morning, everyone. If I could have your attention.’
As Dr Nick Tremayne strode into the staffroom at the Penhally Bay Surgery on a sunny Monday morning in mid-September, GP Polly Carrick slipped unnoticed to a chair and sat down. Although it was two hours until her first scheduled appointment, Polly had come in early for the meeting, hoping to use the extra time to make an impression on the mountain of paperwork growing on her desk.
‘Could we move along, please?’ The bite of impatience in Nick’s voice was symbolic of the edgy, unpredictable mood he had been in during the last few weeks. ‘Patients will soon be arriving—and I have an upcoming meeting. Before then, I have a couple of items to discuss with you.’
The senior partner, Nick’s restlessness was evident as he waited for the room to quieten and the on-duty staff to settle. Finally, a hush descended, broken only by the clink of teaspoons against mugs and the familiar metallic ping as the tin containing practice manager Hazel’s home-made biscuits was opened with customary eagerness.
‘The last couple of years have brought many changes, not only to Penhally in general but to this practice in particular as we continue to expand and extend the services offered to patients.’ Nick paused, an aloof smile on his face as his dark gaze scanned the room. ‘Luca d’Azzaro is joining us today, filling the gap created by Adam’s departure two weeks ago. Some of you met Luca during his familiarisation visit in August, but for those of you not yet acquainted, he moved to Cornwall from Italy three years ago, working since then i
n St Piran.’
A frown of consideration knotted Nick’s brow. ‘I won’t be betraying any confidences when I tell you that Luca’s ambition was to be a paediatric surgeon, but a change in circumstances led to him switching specialty and qualifying as a GP. His references are exceptional and, having done surgical and trauma rotations during his training, he will be an asset in our minor injuries unit. I trust you’ll all extend a warm welcome and offer any assistance Luca needs.’
Murmurs of agreement rippled around the staffroom, which was situated on the first floor of the ever-growing and increasingly busy Penhally Bay Surgery. Polly tuned out Nick’s voice as he moved on to the next item on his agenda. Luca’s arrival meant that she was no longer the newest member of the team. She’d joined the practice nine weeks ago and had settled well, enjoying the job and receiving a warm welcome from the rest of the staff.
Settling in Penhally itself had presented a bigger challenge. She was no stranger to the north Cornish village, having spent the first seventeen years of her life here. Most of them had been unhappy, tormented years. At least, after her mother had died when Polly had been four, leaving her alone in the charge of Reg…a man singularly unsuited to the role of father. A shiver ran down her spine. Polly wrapped her arms around her waist, as if by doing so she could protect herself from the remembered pain. This was neither the time nor the place to poke around in old wounds.
News of the new GP post in Penhally had come out of the blue. When Kate Althorp—godmother, friend, confidante, and the only person with whom she had kept in touch after leaving Cornwall thirteen years ago—had phoned, Polly had thought she was joking.
‘I know how difficult the last few years have been, Polly, and I’m so proud of you for overcoming yet another ordeal,’ Kate had told her, bringing a lump to Polly’s throat. ‘In your last email, you said you needed a complete change and wanted to get right away from London.’
‘Yes, I did. I do. But Penhally?’
‘I know, my love, but all the bad you once knew here has long gone. I’ve recommended you to the team and told them about your professional skills. There will be an interview, of course, but that’s just a formality. The job is yours…if you want it,’ her friend had continued, countering her protests. ‘Starting over is never easy, as you know from past experience, but here you have people waiting to welcome you back with open arms. And I’m at the head of the queue.’
The lump in her throat had swelled to mammoth proportions. ‘Kate…’
‘Please come, Polly. You’re a wonderful doctor. Penhally needs you. And I think you need Penhally. Don’t let the shadows of the past continue to cloud your future,’ Kate had advised, genuine emotion in her voice.
Although doubts and anxieties had remained, Polly had gone through the interview, agreed terms and signed a contract. Which was why, thirteen years after she had left, vowing never to set foot in the village again, she had found herself back in Penhally.
The meagre possessions she had salvaged—all she had left to show for her years of independence and her folly—looked lost in the Bridge Street flat where Nick’s daughter Lucy had once lived and which was now rented out. Kate, ever thoughtful, had stocked the flat with basic supplies and fresh flowers for her arrival.
‘Polly?’
Nick’s impatient voice, accompanied by a gentle nudge from Chloe Fawkner, who had come to sit next to her, roused Polly from her introspection. She looked up, uncomfortably aware that she had no idea what her boss had said. Everyone was looking at her and a blush heated her cheeks…she hated being the centre of attention.
Trying not to squirm, Polly met her boss’s enigmatic gaze, hoping she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. ‘Yes, Nick?’
‘Thank you, Polly. I’m glad you agree,’ he replied, turning away.
Amusement rippled round the room and, with a sinking heart Polly wondered what she had unwittingly agreed to. Chloe sent her a sympathetic smile. Besides Kate, it had been Chloe, physiotherapist Lauren Nightingale and their partners who had gone out of their way to include her, both professionally and socially. It was the social stuff she struggled with.
Polly remembered Chloe and Lauren from school. And Sam Cavendish, a part-time GP in the practice, had been in her year. Not that he would have noticed her. No one had. She’d been the quiet, skinny loner who’d lurked in the background.
In the weeks since she had returned to Penhally, Polly had come to know Chloe as a dedicated professional, very caring of her mums-to-be, kind to her colleagues and a good friend to Kate. Chloe had matured into a beautiful woman, with long, dark hair and big green eyes. Polly couldn’t help but envy her looks and curvy body. Or the fact that Chloe was so evidently in love with, and loved by, her wickedly handsome husband, Oliver Fawkner, another of Penhally’s GPs.
With Nick busy talking to Croatian GP Dragan Lovak, Polly quizzed Chloe on the details she had missed from their boss’s talk.
‘What have I agreed to do?’ Polly whispered.
Chloe leaned closer to murmur her reply. ‘Babysit our new doctor.’
‘Oh, hell.’
Polly slumped back on her chair and stifled a groan. It was the last task she would have chosen. Surely one of the more established doctors would be better suited for the role? Oliver had been Polly’s mentor for the first few days. He’d been kindness itself, warm in his welcome, and whether or not he had sensed her nervousness, Oliver’s easygoing nature and irreverent humour had set her at ease. The least she could do was extend the same courtesy to Luca, although her shyness and anxiety would make her task harder. With patients, she was fine, able to project her work persona, but she continued to find any kind of social interaction difficult.
The morning briefing came to an end, and the staffroom emptied as everyone dispersed to their own rooms and designated tasks. There was no opportunity to talk to Nick. Used to keeping in the background rather than pushing herself forward, by the time Polly had urged herself to act it was too late, and her boss was already out of the door.
‘I’ll bring Luca along and introduce you in time for your first consultation, Polly,’ he called over his shoulder, before jogging down the stairs.
Sighing, Polly found herself alone in the staffroom. After making a mug of white tea with cranberries, she went downstairs to her consulting room and closed the door, determined to do battle with the never-ending paperwork.
As she settled at her desk and sipped her tea, her mind drifted to the new doctor and the little Nick had said about him. She couldn’t help but wonder what had caused Luca d’Azzaro to give up his surgical career and why he had turned to general practice instead. Polly shook her head. Such speculation was pointless. And Luca’s decisions were none of her business.
Polly glanced at her watch and a frission rippled down her spine, a curious flicker of…what? Apprehension, unease, excitement? She didn’t know. She’d never experienced such nervy anticipation before. Why now? And why had Nick chosen her to help Luca settle in? All too soon she would meet the mysterious new doctor for herself.
‘I think that covers everything, Luca.’ With a benevolent smile, Nick leaned back in his chair and closed the file he’d had open in front of him. ‘Do you have any questions?’
Luca shook his head. ‘No, thank you. I’m eager to begin my new duties.’
Eager, yes, but he also felt a flicker of nervousness at what lay ahead, Luca acknowledged, facing his first day in his first full-time position as a general practitioner. As a young medical student he’d been determined to turn his dream of being a paediatric surgeon into a reality, but fate had had other plans for him, and he’d learned some valuable, if painful lessons. In consequence, he was here today, a qualified GP, embarking on a new chapter of his life.
He’d got just far enough in his surgical training to have had a tantalising taste of what he’d longed for before it had been taken away again. But when life dealt a cruelly vicious blow, a man had to make sacrifices and carry on as best he could. T
he change of career allowed him more settled working hours so that he could be a better father to his fast-growing twin daughters. And no sacrifice was too much, no cost too high for him to pay, in an attempt to compensate his girls for the fact that they didn’t have a mother. The familiar sting of pain, betrayal and crushing burden of guilt weighed heavily upon him.
‘W’re Edelighted to have you on board,’ Nick said, rising to his feet.
Luca stood up and shook the older man’s hand. ‘Thank you.’
Nick gestured for him to precede him to the door. ‘I’ve arranged for you to shadow Dr Polly Carrick. You can sit in on her surgeries today, before starting your own consultations tomorrow, and you can double up on home visits for a couple of weeks to learn your way around.’
Luca murmured his acquiescence. It was what he’d expected, Nick having raised the issue when Luca had last visited the surgery to formalise his appointment. He’d looked round the premises on that occasion and had been very impressed by the expansion and all the new facilities. He’d also met some of his soon-to-be colleagues, all of whom had been friendly and welcoming. Their reaction, and the feeling of ease he had experienced being in the surgery, had given him confidence that he’d made the right decision to pursue the sought-after position in Penhally.
He’d yet to meet Polly Carrick, however, and wondered why Nick had chosen her as the doctor he was to shadow.
‘Polly joined us in July. She grew up in Penhally, so is familiar with the district.’
‘I’m sure her local knowledge will be useful,’ Luca responded politely.
Turning down a corridor that housed the physiotherapy room and three consulting rooms, Nick opened an unmarked door and showed him inside. ‘This will be your domain. Say if there is anything that you need. You have your name-plate?’
‘Yes.’ Luca sneaked a quick look around as he moved to set his bag on the empty desk. The room was bright and airy, quite big enough and very well equipped. He opened the bag and took out the plate. ‘Here it is.’
Caroline Anderson, Anne Fraser, Kate Hardy, Margaret McDonagh Page 49