by Sharon Booth
Marcus dutifully switched off the phone and shoved it in his jacket pocket. Jed ran a hand through his fair hair and adjusted his bow tie, though he knew perfectly well it didn't need adjusting. He cast a nervous glance at the photographers, standing to his left, waiting. He hated these celebrity weddings. Scarlet's had been the same. What was wrong with a private, family event? If he ever got married, he'd make damn sure no journalist got anywhere near. Not that he was likely to get married. Especially not now.
He got to his feet as music began to blare out of the speakers. Opposite him, he watched Teddy rise, trembling. Beside him, his best man — some friend from university who'd only arrived that morning, leaving Teddy in a real panic that he wouldn't turn up on time — frantically patted his jacket pocket, as if checking for the rings, then nodded at the groom. Jed grinned and turned to watch the bride's entrance.
His jaw dropped as a young, blonde woman strolled down the aisle alone. She was wearing a simple, white floor-length dress that had none of the sophistication he'd expect at a glamorous event like this, but it suited her, somehow. She wore little makeup, but her face was so pretty she didn't need it. Something stirred in his mind, and he frowned. Is that Emerald?
What the hell was she doing, walking down the aisle to the wedding music? And wearing a white dress that could easily be mistaken for a wedding gown. A camera flashed, and Jed's eyes scanned the back of the room. Where was Honey? He took a deep breath as she appeared at the door, arm in arm with their father. Her face was hardly that of a contented bride. She looked furious, and Cain's face was like thunder. Uh-oh. Emerald had obviously put the cat amongst the pigeons, and no wonder. He shot a look at Scarlet, who was walking behind Honey. She gave a little shrug of the shoulders and pulled a face, and he vowed to collar her after the ceremony and find out what the hell was going on.
Emerald pushed her way into a seat near the front, just as Honey reached her. Jed thought, for a moment, that Honey was going to lunge after their sister and throttle her, but luckily, her eyes fell on Teddy, and she seemed to decide that getting married was the main priority. Jed heaved a sigh of relief as, beside him, Marcus whispered, 'Doesn't Justin look adorable! Wait until Janette sees the pictures. Oh, I wish she could have been here.'
Jed bit his lip. Yeah, Justin looked cute as a button. He felt the familiar churning in his stomach and tried to concentrate, as the music ended.
'Dad looks almost normal,' Marcus was clearly surprised by the fact. Had he expected their father to walk down the aisle in his platform boots and leather pants? Maybe, a few years ago, he might have. His mom would never believe it when he told her that Cain was now a country gent, mixing with politicians and the cream of British high society. He could hardly believe it himself.
Jed watched, as Honey and Teddy turned to each other to begin making their vows. He saw Honey's face transform as she gazed at the man who, in a few minutes, would be her husband. She loved him and, having spoken to Teddy for a good long time the previous night, he knew the feeling was mutual.
They were lucky to have found each other so young, he thought. How old was Honey now? Maybe twenty-three, twenty-four? And Teddy wasn't much older. Yet here he was, in his mid-thirties and right back at square one as far as his love life went. In fact, he was further back than that. Minus numbers for him, given what had happened these last few months. Life was a bitch sometimes, no doubt about it. And he still hadn't broken his other news to his father. Now, that was something that he wasn't looking forward to.
He decided that, press or no press, he was going to have quite a few shots of alcohol that evening. If he couldn't live up to Cain's past glories, he could, at the very least, live up to his past excesses — at least for one night.
****
Emerald was the first to take her seat in the reception room. She felt she needed a stiff drink after witnessing that sickly sweet display and had bypassed the official line-up to grab a glass of wine from the waitress at the end of the queue. Honey and Teddy had apparently written their own vows, and they'd overdosed on the sugar. Emerald found it hard to believe that they were as smitten with each other as they pretended to be. She suspected there was another reason for their weird behaviour. Maybe it was something to do with Rex and his boring charity work. Or Cain's endless quest to achieve a knighthood. They were all in it together, and this over-the-top wedding, paid for by that tacky magazine, was serving some darker purpose. She had no intention of exchanging air kisses and gushing how happy she was for them. She'd leave that to the more gullible guests.
'Emerald?' She paused in lifting the glass of wine to her lips and eyed the tall, fair-haired man with dimples in his cheeks, as he slipped into a seat beside her. She would know those warm blue eyes anywhere.
'Jed!'
'You remember me! Wow, it's been a while. It's so good to see you.'
Her own eyes widened in surprise as she was pulled into a warm embrace. She'd always liked Jed, she remembered. He'd been kind to her, not like most boys of that age who, to be honest, were generally bullies and stupid beyond words. 'It's good to see you, too,' she admitted. 'You're looking well.'
Though, as he pulled away from her, she thought he wasn't looking as well as she'd supposed. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and there was something else. She wasn't sure what it was, but she had a funny feeling he'd not had an easy time of it lately, and the thought stirred an unfamiliar feeling of compassion in her.
'How are you?' he asked. 'You look great. And how's your mom doing?'
No one ever asked her about her mother. Despite Emerald's own uneasy relationship with her, she was touched that Jed had bothered. 'She's fine. Currently living in Scotland. She's gone very tartan.' Hadn't she just! Cassandra, a historical novelist, moved around a lot, choosing to stay in the location of the book she was writing at the time. She always thoroughly embraced the atmosphere of the place she was in. Every time they stayed in France she became rather revolutionary and refused to speak English. It didn't bother Emerald much anymore, but as a little girl it had proved rather difficult, given that her childish grasp of French had been minimal.
In Cornwall, Cassandra had rented a hovel on the cliff top and dragged Emerald out to view abandoned tin mines every day.
Emerald didn't even want to remember their six months in Ireland. Suffice it to say, she'd never eaten mashed potatoes or cabbage since. 'And how's your mother?'
'Doing great. On husband number four, and it looks like he's a keeper. Been eight years, which is a record. Anyway, she's happy enough for now. I'm glad you made it here. I feel bad we didn't keep in touch. We must make sure we don't let that happen again. Right?'
Emerald found herself nodding. It was good to see him again. When she was four years old, Jed and Scarlet had been the cool big brother and sister. They must have been around twelve when Lowri had taken them away, she realised. It had hurt like hell at the time. Scarlet had always been okay with her, but Jed had been a real friend. She hadn't got to see him every week because Lowri and Cain were bitter enemies after their divorce, and then, when Cain split from her own mother, Cassandra had frequently dragged Emerald off to far-flung places as she began her writing career. But Lowri and Cassandra had got on well, and they'd made the effort to ensure their children kept in touch, which was more than Cain ever had — at least, until their return to America, when it had all gone to pot and Lowri had ceased contact.
She remembered sobbing in her bedroom when she realised Jed and Scarlet wouldn't be visiting again. She'd felt so alone, and Cain was absorbed with his new girlfriend, Sandy — the only one of his children's mothers he'd never married. Marcus had become his new priority.
She remembered the night of her fifth birthday. She'd watched him on the news, threatening Lowri with all sorts for taking his eldest children away, and she'd realised how much he cared about them. Then, she'd heard her mother speaking to him on the phone, demanding to know why he wasn't at the house, visiting their child on her birthday. 'Fine
,' she'd heard her snap. 'Stay with your brat, if you must. I'm sure the fact that poor little Marcus has a temperature is far more important than your little girl's birthday. Screw you!'
It had occurred to her, for the first time, that she probably wasn't as important to her father as his other children. She'd always hated birthday cake after that.
'So, are you here alone?' Jed glanced around, as if he'd find a man standing in the room wearing a badge proclaiming Property of Emerald Carmichael on it.
'Yes. All alone. I prefer it that way. What about you? Are you here with a partner?'
She saw a bleakness in his eyes. 'Nope. Like you, I prefer it that way.' Liar, she thought. So, who's broken your heart, Jed? She felt quite outraged on his behalf. He was a good person. The only decent person in her family. How dare some bitch hurt him?
'Hey,' he said, noticing the place card in front of her, 'how come you're at this table, anyway? You should be nearer the front, with the rest of us.'
Emerald watched as Honey, Teddy, Teddy's best man, his father and stepmother, Cain, Freya, Scarlet, Eden, Marcus, and the little prince in knickerbockers, took their seats at the top table. Twelve people would be sitting there, once Jed took his place. She was well and truly out in the cold. She shrugged. 'I'm fine back here.'
'But it's not right.' Jed looked concerned. 'And how come you're not a bridesmaid?'
'Let's just say, Honey and I never really got on,' said Emerald wryly.
'Look, Scarlet's husband Luke's at the front table. I'll try to get you moved next to him.'
'Really, don't bother. Not on my account. Besides, most of Freya's relatives are sitting up there. I certainly don't want to be swamped by those people — oh!'
She broke off, recognising the old lady with the paisley valise, who was now knocking back a glass of wine. She was wearing a pillbox hat with a veil, and what looked like a dead fox hung around her shoulders. Emerald shuddered. So, the old bat was related to Honey? Why didn't that surprise her? No way did she want to be anywhere near her.
'But, I don't like to see you so far back on your own. Honestly, I don't...' Jed's voice trailed off and he shrugged. 'Okay, if you're sure. But look, when this meal and the speeches are over, we'll have a proper catch up, right?'
'Sounds good,' she said, realising she was smiling for the first time in ages. Really smiling, not forcing her mouth into position and trying to look as if she meant it. 'Speak to you later.'
He nodded and headed off to the top table, and Emerald took another sip of wine and tried not to feel abandoned. As the other chairs at her table began to fill up, she fought to suppress the mixture of dread and irritation. She just hoped nobody tried to make conversation with her. She wasn't in the mood.
She heard a scraping as the chair beside hers was pulled out, and glanced up, hoping she wasn't going to be lumbered with one of her father's common relatives. Not that he'd invited many. They didn't fit in with his new, pillar of society image, after all. Her heart leapt, and she found herself smiling for the second time, as she looked up into a pair of dark eyes, which were showing confusion and quite a lot of embarrassment. As she watched, she saw recognition dawn in them.
'We meet again. Seems I'm sitting next to you,' he said gruffly, sitting down and tugging at his shirt collar, as if he were being strangled by it.
'It seems you are.' So, the porter who wasn't a porter was to be her companion for the time being. Maybe it wasn't going to be such an ordeal, after all.
Chapter Four
Eliot felt as if the wedding was dragging on forever. He didn't belong here, and he didn't want to be among all these strangers. He lifted a spoon and prodded suspiciously at his crème brûlée, not sure he fancied trying it. He'd already ploughed his way through four courses. How much did these people eat? And how come they were all so bloody thin? He longed to be at home with the bairns. He wondered what they were doing at that moment. Were they having their tea? Had Beth coped all right?
He felt his stomach tighten at the thought that James Fuller might visit the farm in his absence. Would he really let his wife stay at Fleetsthorpe all night, without him? He couldn't imagine it, and the idea that his loathed nemesis might dare to enter his home made his skin crawl. He swallowed. Surely, even Fuller wouldn't be stupid enough to risk it? His girls would tell him if he did, and by God he'd make him pay. He tried to calm down. He was being ridiculous. Beth wouldn't allow it. She wouldn't do that to him.
He glanced across at Eden, sitting calmly at the top table. She looked different, and not like his Eden at all. She looked like that other Eden. The one he'd first met when she'd arrived in Yorkshire, almost eighteen months ago, all blonde highlights, designer clothes and cutting comments. That hadn't been the real Eden, of course. She hadn't even been using her real name.
The real Eden was the woman who wore jeans and baggy jumpers, pulled her fair hair into a pony tail, and rolled up her sleeves to clean out the hen house, deliver lambs, feed the hens. She was the woman who baked cakes and cooked hearty meals for them all, who drove to the supermarket and loaded up the car with the weekly shopping. The one who occasionally donned a dress and heels to attend meetings at the bank with him, as they tried to sort out their finances, or attended parents' night and took a keen interest in the children's education. She was the one who'd sat round the kitchen table with him, her brow furrowed, as they listened to the architect's plans for the bunk barn business they'd set their hearts on. The one who laughed and joked with, and made strong cups of tea for, the builders who were converting the barns so that business could take shape. The one who took his children to school every morning, picked them up every afternoon, and loved them as if they were her own. The one who gave him so much love that he was full to the brim, and so happy that he had to remind himself that it was allowed, and nothing bad would happen to spoil things.
'I don't blame you. It's dismal, isn't it?'
'What?' He blinked, realising someone was talking to him. His heart sank. That snooty piece that he'd met in reception. Trust him to get landed with her again. Telling him to park her bloody car for her!
'The meal. I can see you're not enjoying it. Awful food isn't it? Do you know, this place has a Michelin star?'
'Oh, right. I don't have much truck with them sort of things,' he admitted. 'Truth is, I've never eaten in such a posh place before.'
Her eyes lit up. 'Me neither! And probably never will again.'
Really? Well, that surprised him. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he'd thought. 'I'm waiting for it to be over,' he confessed. 'How long do these bloody things go on for?'
She grinned, and the upward curve of her mouth and twinkle in her eyes transformed her face. He realised she wasn't that old, either. Probably around Eden's age. She may be snooty, but at least she wasn't plastered in makeup and hairspray. He couldn't be doing with all that artificial stuff. 'Too long,' she said. 'Isn't it boring? Weddings are awful. I wish I'd never come.'
'Why did you then?' It wasn't an unreasonable question, he thought. He certainly wouldn't have gone anywhere near the place if Eden wasn't a bridesmaid. She'd asked him to go quite hesitantly, knowing it wasn't his thing, but how could he refuse? He'd been filled with dread at the thought, but he couldn't let her down.
She sighed. 'Duty. You know how it is.'
'Oh, aye,' he agreed. 'Duty's a right bugger, sometimes.'
'Emerald.' She held out her hand, and he shook it, surprised.
'Eliot.'
'Pleased to meet you, Eliot. I'm terribly sorry I was so rude to you earlier. I should never have spoken to you like that. I'm afraid I was quite stressed. I've been dreading this day.'
'Well, I suppose ... Me an' all, to be truthful.'
She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, 'Do you recognise that old bat on the front table? The one with the dead fox on her shoulders?'
He glanced across at the woman in question and his eyes narrowed. 'Oh, I recognise her, all right. Fancy her being at the wedding.'
'You're not wrong there,' he said with feeling.
She looked at him, surprised. 'You know them? Gosh, you're not related to her, too, are you?'
'I used to be. Sort of. By marriage, at least. Freya was my late wife's cousin, or summat like that.'
'Your late wife?' She stared at him a moment, then patted him on the arm. 'Well, I expect she was entirely different to Freya. You'd never have married her otherwise. I'm sorry for your loss.'
He didn't reply. There wasn't a lot he could say without getting into a whole conversation about all the reasons he should never have married Jemima, and he didn't want to talk about it. It was bad enough having to be in the same room as some of his ex-in-laws. He wondered how many of them realised who he was? Not many, if any at all, he supposed, since they'd refused to have anything to do with him. It shouldn't have surprised him that the old lady who'd spurned his help was one of that family, a fact he pointed out to Emerald, feeling he should make some effort at conversation, since she was being so friendly. 'Last time I offer to help anyone here out,' he added.
'I don't believe you,' she said. 'You strike me as the sort who'll always offer to help, if you can. You're the gallant type.'
She peered up at him, looking quite coy. He wasn't sure how to answer that. 'Not really,' he managed in the end.
'You're far too modest. So, Eliot, if you're not a hotel employee, what do you do?'
'I'm a farmer.'
His eyes widened as she put her hand on his arm and squeezed it. 'Are you really? That's amazing'
Was it? He couldn't see why. And what was she looking at him like that for? All doe-eyed and weird? How much had she had to drink? He realised that her expression had changed, her face hardening.