Substitute Bride (Special Edition)

by Alexander, Trisha

  “I know,” David said. “Running off on the spur of the moment is more like something you’d do.” He squeezed Rachel’s waist.

  “Did you have any idea she was thinking of eloping with this Carlos?” Melissa pressed, looking at Rachel.

  “No,” Rachel said, trying to tell as much of the truth as possible, although she had decided not to disclose that Carlos had actually come to the church. “I mean, I knew she had met him and that she had fallen in love with him, really in love with him…and, well, I also knew he’d asked her to marry him, but I thought she’d decided against it.” She kept her gaze away from David as she spoke. He was so honest, it was hard to look into his eyes when she was being anything but. “I guess, in the end, she just couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving without her.”

  Another guest—a pretty blond woman who looked to be in her early forties—obviously overheard the conversation, for she moved closer and, sighing, said, “It’s so terribly romantic, what your sister did.” She held out her hand. “Lisa Gavin. I’m Blaine Gavin’s wife.”

  “Oh,” Rachel said, although she had no idea who Blaine Gavin was. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “And you, too. Blaine has talked about you ever since you did your first seminar for the company.”

  Oh, great, Rachel thought, a customer of Roxanne’s and definitely someone she would be expected to know. “Um, is Blaine here? I haven’t seen him.” She didn’t remember seeing Lisa Gavin at the church, so she felt safe saying this.

  Lisa smiled. “Yes, he’s here. He’s gone to the bar to get us a drink. I’m sorry we weren’t able to make it to the church.”

  This masquerade was going to be harder to pull off than Rachel had thought. Thought? You didn’t think! You just acted. If you’d really thought about this, you’d never have done it. But she had done it, so she’d better concentrate on doing it right, hadn’t she?

  For the next hour it seemed to Rachel that all she did was answer incredulous questions. The guests were abuzz about what her twin had done. Wryly, she wondered what they’d say if they knew the truth. They’d be more than abuzz. They’d be stunned.

  One of these days they will know the truth. Oh, wouldn’t the gossip mavens have a field day when the real story was out.

  Resolutely, she pushed the depressing thoughts away. She couldn’t afford to indulge her guilty feelings. Not now. She still had hours to go before she would have that luxury.

  All the talk and speculation about Rachel succeeded in getting her father stirred up again. He gave voice to his feelings when he claimed Rachel for a dance.

  “I’m sorry, sugar,” he said as he led her expertly through a foxtrot.

  “Sorry for what, Daddy?”

  “Sorry that your sister has succeeded in ruining your day.”

  “It’s okay, really. I’m not…mad at Rachel. I understand.”

  “I’m glad you do, because I sure as hell don’t. Why couldn’t she tell me about this man instead of sneaking off like a coward? And why did she have to pick today to do it?”

  “Maybe she—”

  “Maybe nothing! There’s no excuse for what she did, and let me tell you, little girl, your sister is going to be sorry. And that…that man, whoever the hell he is, is going to be even sorrier. Nobody messes with Wylie Carlton and gets away with it. He probably thinks he’s got a one-way ticket to my money. Well, believe you me, he couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “I don’t think he wants your money, Daddy,” Rachel said stiffly. She was trying hard not to feel hurt by her father’s assessment of her character—not that it came as any real surprise. Hadn’t he insinuated she was spineless many times? “Just like her mother, God rest her soul,” he was wont to say, shaking his head sadly. “Afraid of her own shadow.”

  Rachel wondered if he’d take this position if he knew which one of his daughters had really run off to marry Carlos Terraza. She had no doubt her father would still be hurt and upset, but she also felt he’d get over his upset pretty quickly once Roxanne cried prettily and said how much she loved him and begged him to forgive her.

  “Damn good thing for him if he doesn’t,” her father continued, his eyes hard, “because he’ll never see a penny of it. I’m goin’ over to Mark Ingram’s office first thing Monday morning and cut Rachel right out of my will.”

  Rachel fought not to give way to the emotions churning inside her. She wanted to say if it had really been her who’d run off to marry the man she loved, she wouldn’t care if her father did cut her out of his will, because she’d never cared anything about his money. She wanted to say that all she’d ever wanted from Wylie was the same love and understanding and admiration he gave so freely to Roxanne. She wanted to say that he’d never given her a chance and now, when she needed his support and understanding the most, he refused to even try to understand. Of course, she could say none of these things. She wasn’t Rachel right now, she was Roxanne, the fair-haired daughter. If she gave voice to her thoughts, she would be bound to give herself away.

  And let’s face it, she told herself bitterly, now, after what you’ve pulled today, you would deserve everything he’s thought about you all these years, anyway, wouldn’t you? In fact, he’d have every right to despise you.

  She was caught in a trap of her own making. For the first time in her life she was ready to defend herself, and couldn’t.

  For the rest of their dance she was miserable and could barely manage to paste a smile on her face. But finally the dance was over and she could escape her father’s anger and disappointment.

  During the remainder of the reception, Rachel danced and ate and talked to the guests and pretended to be happy, but all the happiness she’d felt during the ceremony had faded and now her only emotions were a deepening melancholy and hopelessness as the hour when she would have to face David with the truth came closer and closer.

  Roxanne was tired, David thought, watching her from a distance. Obviously, the stress of Rachel’s defection on top of the normal stress of the wedding had been too much. He looked at his watch—4:45. Thank God. Only fifteen more minutes and they could leave.

  He smiled, thinking of their upcoming honeymoon trip. He had rented a private villa in Colombé—one he’d seen a few years earlier when he and two of his buddies had spent a week on the island. The villa was rented out by its discriminating owner to only a few, select people. It was perfect, David thought, situated on a small rise overlooking a cove about a hundred feet from the sheltered beach. It had a beautiful view, and as far as he had been able to tell, almost complete privacy.

  He couldn’t wait to show the villa to Roxanne. He couldn’t wait to get her there, alone, where they could rest and eat and swim and sun themselves…and make love.

  His body stirred at the thought.

  His wife.

  From this day forward.

  His wife.

  “I’ll help you get changed,” Paula said.

  “Thanks,” said Rachel.

  “But first you have to throw the bouquet.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that.”

  “I know.” Paula smiled. “That’s okay. I didn’t”

  Paula, dragging Rachel with her, walked up to the stage and announced that all single women present should come forward. Within minutes, about fifty laughing, chattering women congregated at the foot of the stage below where Rachel stood. Laughing, she turned her back to them and tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

  A squealing girl of about eighteen, whose name Rachel didn’t remember, caught it. “Ooh,” she said, “I’m next!”

  Finally Rachel and Paula were free to head upstairs to the private dressing room where Roxanne’s going-away clothes waited. Paula unlocked the door and the two women went inside.

  After helping Rachel remove the wedding dress and veil, Paula reached for the peach silk slacks and matching jacket Roxanne had chosen and brought over yesterday. “I love this outfit”

  “Yes,” Rachel said, “me, too.” The slack
s, shell top and jacket fit almost perfectly, and if the waistband of the slacks were a bit looser than they would have been on Roxanne, Rachel didn’t think anyone would notice.

  Once she was dressed, she took her hair down and brushed it out, letting it fall in its natural curly state to her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wished she could erase the signs of strain in her eyes, but she was afraid they would remain there until she had unburdened herself to David. Knowing that soon she would have to tell him the truth felt like a ten-ton weight on her shoulders.

  She reached for Roxanne’s soft brown leather shoulder bag, which had also been placed in the room earlier. Turning to Paula, she said brightly, “Guess I’m ready.”

  “One more thing,” Paula said, reaching for the small corsage that had been cleverly integrated into the bridal bouquet. She smiled and pinned the flowers to Rachel’s shoulder. “There,” she said, standing back. “You look perfect.”

  Without warning, Rachel’s eyes filled with tears.

  Paula’s face melted into concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “N-nothing,” Rachel said hastily. “I—I guess I’m just nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” Paula smiled reassuringly. “David’s a good guy. He’ll make a great husband.” She put her arms around Rachel and hugged her. “I know you’ve had some doubts, but heck, everyone does. I almost bolted on my wedding day, but after it was all over and Craig and I were on our honeymoon, everything was fine, and I was really glad I’d married him.”

  Rachel didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she returned Paula’s hug and nodded. Then, together, they headed downstairs.

  David, his grandmother, Rachel’s father, the rest of the wedding party and as many guests as could fit into the entrance hall of the club all waited at the foot of the curving staircase. David had changed from his black tux into sharply creased tan designer slacks and an open-necked pale yellow shirt worn with a lightweight darker brown sport coat. He looked wonderful, Rachel thought, but then, he always looked wonderful to her.

  He smiled up at her, his admiring eyes telling her how much he loved her.

  How much he loves Roxanne, not you.

  Rachel forced a smile to her lips.

  Then it was another round of teasing and well wishing to be endured. Georgina Hanson waited until the guests and wedding attendants had had their turn, then she came up to Rachel. Her shining dark eyes, so like David’s, were filled with affection. “You and David have made me very happy, my dear,” she said softly as they hugged. “To have our families united, well, it’s the fulfillment of a lifelong wish.”

  “I’m glad,” Rachel said. She wondered if, after finding out the truth, David’s grandmother would ever speak to her again. It hurt terribly to think that Georgina might not.

  Last to say goodbye before David and Rachel left was Rachel’s father. He enveloped her in a bear hug. “Love you, angel,” he said gruffly.

  “I love you, too, Daddy.”

  His eyes were suspiciously bright as he released her. He turned to David and shook his hand. “You take good care of her, son.”

  “Oh, I will, Mr. Carlton.”

  Two minutes later, amid a shower of rice, David and Rachel were running down the shallow front steps toward the waiting limousine.

  Rachel’s heart was heavy, and to smile and laugh and pretend to be happy was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. One thought kept going around and around in her head. In just minutes she would have to tell David the truth. Please God, she prayed as David helped her into the sleek car, give me the strength to do this wisely and well

  She continued to silently pray as David, surrounded by his groomsmen, attempted to break away and join her inside.

  The groomsmen were having none of it. Before David could protest or keep them out, all three of them climbed into the limo with Rachel. Steve O’Hara, who had been a high school classmate of David’s, laughed at Rachel’s surprised expression. “We’re going to the airport with you,” he said. “Give you a proper sendoff.”

  Soon Paula joined them. Her expression was apologetic. “This wasn’t my idea, but Craig and I agreed that as long as these bozos were determined to come with you, I’d better come, too. Give you some moral support.”

  A resigned David finally climbed in next to Rachel. He put his arm around her. “Sorry about this,” he said.

  “It…it’s okay.”

  But it wasn’t okay, because how was Rachel going to tell him the truth now? She couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of his friends.

  She sank back against the seat in weary resignation.

  There was no help for it.

  She would have to continue her charade a while longer.

  Chapter Five

  The drive to the airport was a nightmare.

  Just when she’d thought she could finally be herself, Rachel had to work even harder at being Roxanne.

  It was excruciating.

  She had to smile. And laugh. And endure the teasing and sexual innuendo that became more bawdy the closer they got to Intercontinental.

  Several times she came close to losing it, but somehow she hung on. The trip would be over soon. The limo driver had just entered the ramp from Beltway 8 to John F. Kennedy Boulevard, which led directly into the airport.

  Just hold on for another ten minutes, and then they’ll be gone.

  “So where are you guys staying in Miami?” Steve asked.

  “Oh, no,” David replied, grinning. His arm around Rachel tightened protectively. “That’s our secret.”

  “Aw, come on,” said Jason Turnbull, another of the groomsmen who’d come along for the ride. “You can tell us. It isn’t like we’re going to follow you down there.”

  “Forget it,” David said.

  “Why are you going to Miami, anyway?” Hank asked. “Why not just go straight to Colombé?”

  “Because there were no flights to the islands tonight,” David said. “And I knew better than to stay in Houston.”

  Hank poked Jason in the ribs. “Smart man.”

  Jason grinned. “Yeah, we’d have been sure to find you if you had.”

  “Exactly,” David said.

  “Remember how we found Rob and Judy?” Steve said.

  Jason chortled.

  Because Hank didn’t know what they were talking about, Steve and Jason explained the way they’d tormented another friend and his bride on their wedding night.

  “You guys are juvenile, you know that?” Paula said.

  “Aw, it’s all in fun,” Steve said. “We only bugged ‘em for about an hour, then we left ‘em alone.”

  They continued to tease and joke, and by the time the limo pulled up in front of Terminal C, Rachel was completely exhausted. The strain of pretending the presence of the others was funny, which was exactly what Roxanne would have thought, had taken its toll, and she couldn’t wait to get away from them.

  The limo driver parked at the curb, and the guys helped David remove their luggage from the trunk. Then, while David’s back was turned, Steve slipped the limo driver some money, and the limo took off toward the parking garage.

  Rachel was dismayed.

  Paula grimaced. “I guess we’re goin’ inside with you guys.”

  David just shook his head when he realized there would be no getting away from the exuberant groomsmen until he and Rachel were actually on the plane.

  The Continental curbside agent checked their tickets and ID, and once their luggage was on the conveyor belt, Rachel and David—surrounded by their laughing attendants—headed for the security checkpoint

  Rachel desperately wished Houston’s airport prohibited all but actual passengers from going to the gate, but unfortunately, anyone who passed the security check was allowed to enter. There would be no getting away from Hank, Steve, Jason and Paula.

  What was she going to do? She certainly couldn’t talk to David while they were with them.

  And the unwanted attendants were crea
ting such a scene! Dressed as they were in their wedding finery, and with all their hoots and jokes and laughter, they were making it impossible for anyone to mistake David and Rachel for anything other than newlyweds. Rachel wouldn’t have minded if she was really a bride, but she wasn’t. She was a fake, and she was exhausted, and she just wanted Steve and Jason and Hank and Paula to go home and leave them alone.

  The wait for their boarding call seemed interminable. It was all Rachel could do to keep a smile on her face. Several times David gave her a sympathetic look. “It won’t be long now,” he murmured, putting his arm around her.

  If he only knew her inner turmoil. Of course, if he knew what was bothering her, she wouldn’t be in such turmoil. Rachel couldn’t believe this was happening. It was as if all the mischievous forces in the universe were at work and conspiring to keep her from telling David the truth.

  What was she going she do? she asked herself again.

  You’ll have to get on the plane. There’s nothing else you can do.

  Just then, one of the gate attendants picked up a hand mike and announced that Flight 1811 to Miami would now begin boarding. David and Rachel stood. They held first-class tickets, so they would be among the first to board.

  “Okay, you guys, this is it. We’re leaving,” David said good-naturedly.

  Hank clapped him on the back. “Enjoy, old buddy.”

  Paula gave Rachel another hug, and each of the guys kissed her cheek. When it was Hank’s turn, he said, “I hope you’re not mad at us.”

  “No,” she said.

  Hank smiled. “David’s a lucky guy.”

  Oh, God, she thought, if you only knew…

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” David said when they finally escaped the groomsmen. “If I could’ve figured out a way to get rid of them, I would have.”

  “I know. It’s okay.” For one wild moment she considered telling David the truth right then, in the jetway, because otherwise she would have to board the plane. But she immediately realized how untenable the idea was. There was no way she could do that to David.