Rose nodded. ‘I think it looks great.’ She held the layers of material in the skirt and swished it from side to side. ‘What colour do you want, Violet?’
‘Either red or dark purple. What about you?’
‘I like this bright blue. Will we wear jewel colours? Do you think Daisy would wear emerald green?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ She nodded. ‘Bright colours would be nice.’ Violet exchanged a glance with her mother. It was obvious thoughts were spinning through her brain. Rose was curious. What were they thinking about?
‘We’ll talk colours later,’ Sherry said quickly before spinning around. ‘Now, will someone unzip me so we can talk headpieces?’
* * *
Rose was exhausted. Her mother’s dress was picked. Their dresses were more or less agreed on, and they’d tried on an endless amount of jewellery and headpieces yesterday. And that was only the dresses.
She’d emailed a number of caterers and not had one single response. Marquee companies were being equally silent and it was all starting to make her panic. Hopefully things would be better with Will today.
He’d assured her that as long as they were willing to pay a premium price they’d be able to find someone suitable.
She shifted nervously on her feet and fiddled with an earring while she waited for him to arrive. Two minutes later she could hear the purr of a car coming down the driveway. Will pulled up in a car identical to her father’s vintage Rolls-Royce only this time in silver. She raised her eyebrows in surprise as he climbed out and walked around to open her door for her.
‘What?’ He grinned. ‘Did you think only your dad had one of these?’
She climbed in. ‘I thought you would have wanted something more modern—more environmentally friendly.’ It was a nice touch—a man opening a door for her.
He slid into the seat next to her. ‘Quality and class. I spent a number of years waiting to buy this car. Now I’ve got it, I fully intend to drive it.’
She squinted at the row of stitches on his head. The swelling had definitely gone down now and she could see the edges pulled tightly together. ‘How’s your head? Does it hurt?’
‘Is that concern after what—two days?’ He was mocking her, trying to get a rise out of her. He leaned a little closer conspiratorially. ‘It’s itchy. I thought I was going to have to put a set of gloves on last night to stop me scratching it in my sleep.’
‘Ouch. Isn’t there a cream or something you can put on it to stop it itching?’
He shook his head as the car sped along the winding country roads and headed towards the motorway. ‘I’m not to touch it at all. So scratching is definitely not allowed!’
There it was again. That annoying little flutter in her stomach that let her know this was her fault.
‘Do you really think we’ll find a caterer today? I’m getting worried. I’ve contacted a few and heard nothing.’
He nodded as they turned towards the motorway. ‘I think we’ll find someone. I hope you’re hungry.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’ll all have workstations and they’ll be cooking so all the businesses can sample their food. Catering an event is a really big deal. It pays big bucks. They go all out at these events.’
‘Really? We’ll get to eat the food?’
He smiled. ‘Really. I guarantee you. You won’t be able to eat for a week after this.’
She sighed and leaned back into the comfortable leather seat as they started to hit the traffic. ‘It’s just a pity we can’t clone Judy and get her to make all the food. That chicken the other night was great.’
He smiled in appreciation. ‘She’s great. And no. You can’t have her. She’s my secret weapon.’
She shuffled in the seat. ‘Have you given any more thought to the publicity?’ Great. She could see his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel and start to blanch.
‘Let’s talk about it later.’ He leaned over and turned on the radio. The conversation was obviously over. Rose turned and looked out of the window. She was still ticking off things in her head. She’d have to talk to Will about marquees; they were proving a real problem. If she could get the caterer sorted out today that would be at least one more thing off her list. Then it would be into the murky world of wedding favours and table decorations.
Will signalled and pulled off the motorway towards the conference centre. The car park was already jam-packed but he moved straight to the valet parking at the front and jumped out. Rose didn’t even want to consider how much this was costing.
The conference centre was full of people in designer-cut suits and Italian leather shoes. She looked down at her simple fitted beige trousers and white loose shirt with a variety of beads. ‘You should have warned me I’m underdressed,’ she hissed. ‘I could have changed.’
His brow wrinkled as he walked forward. ‘You look perfect. What are you worrying about?’ He glanced at the map in his hands. ‘Here, Hall C is where all the caterers are. Let’s head there.’
He nodded and said hello to a few folk as they wove their way through the crowds. There really wasn’t much need for the map. The smells emanating from Hall C would have led them in the right direction.
It was definitely the busiest part. Will didn’t hesitate. He made his way straight over to the first booth and picked up a disposable plate and fork. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘Have a quick taste. If you don’t like it we’ll move on.’
The aroma of spicy chicken and beef was wafting around her, making her ravenous. She took a spoonful and grabbed a taste just as Will did. Her eyes watered and she turned to face him, trying not to laugh.
Within a few seconds he had a similar expression on his face. He gestured towards a nearby table stocked with iced water and glasses. ‘Water?’ The word squeaked out and she had to put a hand in front of her mouth. She nodded and followed quickly to the table, grabbing the glass of iced water that he poured. She swallowed swiftly and allowed the cool water to ease her scorching throat. ‘Wow. I think they overdid the chillies.’ She could almost feel a tear in her eye.
Will gulped down a second glass of water. ‘Well, that was a wake-up call.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘Here, let’s go somewhere things will be more soothing.’
He pulled her over towards an Italian stand where lasagne, spaghetti bolognaise and chicken arrabiata were all waiting to be sampled. They both played safe, taking a small sample of lasagne and spaghetti. It was good. Meaty, creamy with just the right amount of herbs. ‘It’s lovely,’ Rose sighed. ‘But it wouldn’t do for Mum and Dad’s wedding.’
Will nodded. ‘Let’s try some more.’ Half an hour later they’d tried some Chinese food, some sushi, some Indian food and lots of traditional English dishes. Rose was no closer to finding something she really liked. She was pushing some food around her plate. ‘Oh, no. This chicken looks a bit pink. I’m not eating that.’
Will whipped the plate out of her hand and dumped it in the rubbish bin. ‘Wait. There’s someone I know. His food is good. Let’s try him.’
He walked with confidence, his hand encircling hers just as it had all day. It sent nice little impulses up her arm and gave her a strange sense of belonging. England had always been her home. She’d lived at Huntingdon Hall since she’d been a little girl. But spending most of her time in New York these last three years had given her a bit of space and distance.
Being around Will was making her think hard about her choices. Her father had already mentioned she would need to be back here for the band’s European tour. But as much as she loved New York and her friends, it was beginning to lose its shine. Seeing her younger sister Daisy get married had made her feel a little flutter of homesickness. Knowing that Daisy would have a baby soon and wanting to be around her new niece or nephew definitely made her want to stay close to home.
Will steered her over towards a new stand. ‘Hi, Frank. This is my friend Rose Huntingdon-Cross. We’re hoping to get an event catered soon.’
Frank put his hand out and shook Rose’s hand warmly. ‘Pleasure to meet you. Tell me what you want to taste. Any friend of Will’s is a friend of mine.’
Rose smiled. The first stall that seemed promising. ‘My parents’ tastes are simple. My mother likes chicken. My father steak. They just like them to taste exquisite. What you do with them is up to you.’
‘Chicken and steak. My two favourite English dishes. Give me a second.’
He knelt behind the counter and put up a range of plates. ‘Okay, steak. Here’s a plain sirloin. I can give you gravy, pepper sauce or whisky and mushroom sauce. Here’s my version of steak stroganoff, and another steak traditional stew. For chicken I have chicken with cider, apples, mushroom and cream, a chicken stew with tomatoes and pepper and a traditional Balmoral chicken with haggis and pepper sauce.’
The plates appeared one after another with a variety of cutlery. Will smiled broadly. This guy could be perfect. As Rose worked her way along the row each dish tasted every bit as good as the one before. She sighed as she reached the end.
Frank was standing with his arms crossed. ‘What’s your dessert wish list?’
She turned to face Will, who was finishing off the sirloin steak with some mushroom sauce. ‘Really? You knew this guy and didn’t phone him straight away?’
Will smiled. ‘He’s my secret weapon. Everyone’s tastes are different. Frank’s always my number one choice.’
She looked up at Frank. ‘Dessert would be something chocolate and orange for my mother and something strawberry or raspberry for my father.’
‘No problem.’ He disappeared again and started thumping plates up onto the deck. ‘Chocolate and orange torte, raspberry pavlova, strawberry cheesecake, chocolate and cherry gateau and chocolate and raspberry roulade.’
Rose felt her eyes widen. ‘I’ve just died and gone to heaven.’ She lifted a fork and worked her way along the dishes, reaching the end as her taste buds exploded. ‘All of them. I want all of them.’
Frank’s smile reached from one ear to the other. He pulled out a diary. ‘When’s your event? Next year? Two years away?’
Rose gulped and glanced at Will for help. ‘Eh, just under four weeks.’
‘What?’ Frank’s voice echoed around the surrounding area.
Will moved swiftly behind the counter, putting his arm around Frank’s shoulders. ‘This is a very big event, Frank. And if I tell you money is no object, would it help?’ He pointed towards Rose. ‘Her mum and dad are renewing their wedding vows. They have a massive kitchen that you will be able to have full run of. You might have heard of them: rock star Rick Cross and ex-model Sherry Huntingdon. It’s pretty much going to be the celebrity wedding renewal of the year. Everyone will be talking about who catered it.’
Frank’s face had initially paled but as Will kept talking she could see the pieces falling into place in his brain. ‘I have reservations for the next two years. Taking something on like this would be no mean feat. I’d have to hire other staff and make alternative arrangements for my other booking without scrimping on quality.’
Rose’s stomach was currently tied up in knots. His food was perfect. His food was better than perfect and would suit her mum and dad and their exacting needs far more than anything else she’d seen today.
‘Please, Frank. Can you have a look at your diary and see if you can make this work? Your food is fantastic. Mum and Dad would love your menu.’
He hesitated as he flicked through an appointment book in front of him. ‘That date is for a corporate event—not another wedding. I’d be able to let my second-in-command take charge. But I’d need extra staff.’ He stared off into the distance as if his brain was mulling things over. ‘I’d also need to see the kitchen before I make a final decision.’
Rose found herself nodding automatically. She was sure the kitchen would meet his standards and if there was anything else he needed—she’d find it. ‘Any time, Frank. Any time you want to see the kitchens would be fine with me. Just say the word.’
He glanced between Will and Rose once again. ‘This will be expensive. You realise that, don’t you?’
Rose answered quickly as she pulled out one of her business cards and handed it to him. ‘I’ve tasted your food. You’re worth it. Don’t worry about the costs. Do you need a deposit?’ She pulled out the corporate credit card she usually used for all the band expenses. It had the biggest credit limit.
He waggled his finger. ‘I haven’t seen the kitchen yet.’ Then he laughed and turned to Will. ‘Where did you find this one? She’s your best yet—by an absolute mile.’
Rose felt her cheeks flush with colour. ‘No, I mean...we’re not... There’s nothing going on between us.’
Frank winked. ‘That’s what they all say.’
Will tried to break the awkwardness, but his immediate reaction was to slide his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. ‘Rose and I are just good friends. I’m helping her out with the wedding stuff for her parents and she’s helping me out with some publicity for the homeless charity.’
Frank looked at her again. This time she could see a flicker of respect behind his glance. He held out his fist towards Will’s and they bumped them together. ‘See you Wednesday night at the soup kitchen?’ He waved the card. ‘I’ll call you later today and arrange to come and see the kitchens, okay?’
‘Absolutely. That’s great. Thanks very much.’
Will steered her away and over towards an ice-cream stand. The warmth from his arm was seeping through her shoulders. She should object to him holding her so closely—particularly when there was no reason. But something felt right about this. It was almost as if she were a good fit.
She gave him a nudge. ‘I forgot to tell you. There’s a wedding fair on Saturday in one of the nearby hotels. Will you come with me to try and sort out some of the other arrangements?’
He groaned. ‘I can’t think of anything worse. I hate wedding fairs with a passion. I’ve been at more than I could count.’
She grinned. ‘Good. Then it won’t be a problem. I’ll come for you at ten o’clock.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ll come for me?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll try and drive something inconspicuous. The sooner we get in, the sooner we get out.’
‘Okay, I can live with that.’
‘You never told me you volunteered at the shelter, too.’
He looked down at her. ‘Didn’t I? I just thought you would know. Violet’s come along a few times to help when numbers have been short. I go there once a week. It helps me try and connect with the people I’m trying to help. Some of their stories would break your heart.’ He stopped walking and turned her to face him, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘I’m completely serious about this.’
‘I know that. I get that.’ She could see the worry and concern on his face.
‘That’s why I’m so hesitant to do what you suggested. I get that it’s a good idea. But I don’t want this to be about me. I want it to be about them.’
She lifted her hand up to his arm and gave it a squeeze. ‘I understand. I really do. But our world doesn’t always work the way we want it to, Will. If it did—none of those people would be homeless in the first place. I can’t give you a long-term fix here. What I can give you is a way to get people talking about the charity—because that will happen. But first, we need an angle.’
He sighed. ‘And the angle is me.’
The guy standing in front of her now wasn’t the Runaway Groom. He wasn’t a guy that had made a host of headlines in all the tabloids. He was sincere. He was committed to his charity. And he wanted to do the best he could for it. There was a whole other side to Will Carter that no
one else knew about. If she’d thought he was charming before, she hadn’t counted on how much a little glimpse into the real Will could actually impact on her heart.
She nodded. ‘Are you worried about the trials your exes might suggest?’
He shook his head and gave a rueful smile. ‘I probably should be, but that’s actually the last thing I’m worried about.’ He reached over and tucked a wayward lock of blonde hair behind her ear. It was the simplest movement.
But the feel of his finger against her cheek sent her back to the church on the island. Back to the feel of his lips on hers. Back to the surge of hormones that had swept her body and done crazy things to her brain.
If she stood on her tiptoes right now their noses would brush together and their lips could touch again.
She needed a reality check soon.
And there was only one way to get it.
She gave his arm another squeeze. ‘Then let’s get this done. You need to give me details on who they are—and how to contact them. Leave it to me. I can deal with them.’
There. Nothing like a bucket of cold water over the two of them to break the mood.
His arms dropped from her shoulders. ‘Sure. Let’s see what I can do.’
He walked away in front of her, heading towards the exit. She waited a second. Letting her heart rate come back to normal and trying not to fixate on his backside.
Her stomach gave a little flutter. Nothing like hearing about all Will’s bad points from his multitude of fiancées to give her a little perspective.
CHAPTER SIX
WILL WOKE UP with his head thumping. A wedding fair was the last thing he needed. Helium balloons and tiny bottles of whisky were not filling him with joy.
He threw on his running gear and went for a run in the grounds, circling the house and gardens a few times, then pounding around the lake. Running was always therapeutic for Will. It helped him clear away the cobwebs and get some clarity on things.
But the cobwebs this morning were Rose shaped. And they didn’t plan on moving no matter what he did.
A Bride for the Runaway Groom Page 9