Stop That Wedding

by Melissa Klein

  “You did?” His voice climbed an octave. Panic washed over him. All his fears realized. Exposure, humiliation, shame. Even an obtuse woman like Jackie could add a moldering east wing to peeling paint and come up with a shoestring budget.

  Thank God, the waitress returned with their tea, providing Andrew with a moment to collect his wits. After adding a spoonful of sugar, Andrew took a long sip of the soothing brew. “Did you perchance inform her she’ll be walking into an apartment uninhabited for seventy years?”

  With each decade, the family occupied fewer and fewer room, so that the last Duchess of Effingham, his grandmother Honoria, occupied only a modest suite adjacent to the nursery.

  “It didn’t come up.” Neville reached for his own cup, and after taking a sip peered into the liquid as if it might offer him a rescue from reality. “She wanted to talk about wedding colors.”

  Andrew pressed further. The time for a gentle hand had long since passed. “Have you discussed where you’ll get the funds for the restoration?”

  Neville’s brow furrowed. “I, ah…” He scrubbed his palm over his balding pate. “I hadn’t given it much thought. You’ve always had a head for the business side of the estate, I’m sure you’ll manage the costs; you always have.”

  “It’s not in this year’s budget.” Or the next. Of late, he’d had a good run in Monaco, but not nearly enough to cover restoring an entire wing.

  “Well then, I’ll rely on a time-tested resource—we’ll ask Diana for a dowry sufficient to cover the costs.”

  Andrew blinked. His uncle relished all things antique, but was he serious?

  “Since Jackie will be living at Chatham Park, at least part-time, I’m sure Diana wouldn’t mind in the least. Nor would she want her mother living in less than ideal surroundings.”

  “I’m certain you’re correct.” Andrew would rather endure a bowl of those grits Diana kept insisting were delicious than have her learn how he earned money for the family. Or worse yet, have her think Uncle Neville had anything other than love on his heart.

  Good God. What if she thought he’d pursued her for mercenary reasons?

  If he flew directly from Jackson to Las Vegas and luck was truly on his side, he might have enough to do a modest restoration on the Duchess Alexandria suite. “I’d think you’d want to adequately provide for your duchess from your own coffers. As point of pride.”

  “You have a point.” The man squared his shoulders. “It is my duty to take care of her.”

  Under normal circumstances, Andrew would have suggested honesty might be the best way forward. However, nothing of British aristocracy resembled normal—at least not the way his family interpreted it.

  “Would you and Jackie be willing to live here for a few months. That would give me time to accrue the funds you need.”

  “I could take up the matter with her when we meet for lunch. She was so looking forward to meeting everyone.” The corners of his mouth turned up. He leaned in and whispered, “However, I think I can persuade her I’ve fallen in love with Mississippi, if that will help buy you time to raise the necessary funds.”

  Andrew snatched the offering since it was as much help as he was likely to receive from his uncle. “Very good. That will also give you the opportunity to better prepare Jackie for her role. She’ll need quite a bit of coaching before she meets Mum.”

  Good Lord, his mother wasn’t going to relinquish her duties willingly and certainly not to a woman she thought unworthy of the job.

  Neville waved away Andrew’s comment. “Oh, she’ll meet Regina at the wedding.”

  “What?” He choked on his tea. “Mother’s coming here?”

  “Of course, my sister is coming to my wedding. She and your father too.”

  Andrew signaled their waitress and when she came within earshot, he croaked, “Whiskey. Double. Neat.”

  Before Diana phoned the bakery and kept a four o’clock dress fitting, she needed to find Andrew. She paused at the door to the Mimosa Suite, hoping he’d be in his new room, praying he’d be open to lending a hand, and longing to find him alone.

  Maybe it would be better if he weren’t.

  The good Lord knew she had enough on her to-do list. Rapping lightly, she held her breath. Her knuckles had barely met oak when the door opened.

  “Oh, you’re here.”

  A sly grin spread across his face. “Were you hoping I wouldn’t be?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Come in and find out.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her across the threshold.

  “This isn’t a good idea right now.” Everything below her navel begged to differ. “We both have a ton of things to do in the coming days.”

  “All the more reason to take care of the important things first.”

  His kiss tasted of whiskey. Warm. Spicy. Decadent. Just like him.

  “You’ve been drinking. Celebratory or medicinal?”

  Andrew tugged her shirt free from the waist of her pants and slid his hands across her bare back. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  She returned the favor, drawing Andrew’s shirt over his head. As much as she’d rather spend the next week or so staring at his bare chest, worry niggled at the corners of her mind. “Easier said than done.”

  He scooped her into his arms, crossed to the four-poster bed, and tossed her onto it. “Our problems can keep. At least for the next half hour.”

  Diana shimmied out of her pants faster than a tipsy debutante would slip on a marble dance floor. “Agreed. It’s not like magical elves will do the work for us.”

  Andrew disrobed.

  Much to Diana’s visual pleasure.

  He joined her under the covers and made such thorough love to her, all but the most basic functions of her brain ceased.

  A good hour later, Diana kissed the underside of Andrew’s jaw. The world was only beginning to refocus. Her worries returning. “We do need to talk about the wedding.”

  “Must we?”

  “You know it’s in a matter of days.”

  “I’ve been told.”

  “I’ve got flowers to order, musicians to hire, and invitations to send.” Was there time to mail them? God forbid they resort to emailing them.

  “About that. I didn’t know if Jackie gave you our guest list.”

  “No, I assumed—”

  “My parents will be attending. They fly in Saturday.”

  The creases around his mouth caused a knot in her stomach. “That’s fine. I’ll arrange to have a car pick them up in Jackson, and there’ll be room for them next door since your uncle has moved to the family quarters.”

  “Very good.”

  “What are you not telling me?”

  “You have enough on your hands without concerning yourself with my relations. Leave them to me. What’s my immediate task?”

  Make love to me again.

  All the mama-drama disappeared when they were alone. “After you reserve tuxes for you and Neville, you need to get going on a bachelor party.”

  “Suggestions?”

  “There are several casinos in Vicksburg, and I know there are a couple guys on staff who would enjoy filling out your small numbers. Doc James for sure.”

  He frowned.

  “If that seems a little low brow for your uncle, there’s always the Coach House.”

  “Casinos will be fine.

  Did his family have a puritanical streak she didn’t know about. Lordy, Mama wouldn’t want to give up her Bunco games.

  “I should get cracking then.”

  Could the twitch above his eye have something to do with his parents’ arrival?

  He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Text me when you get back from town.”

  “You bet.” What wasn’t he telling her? Diana tried not to borrow trouble since her little red wagon was already overflowing with issues.

  Truth hit her squarely in the face. It wasn’t his parents meeting Jackie worrying him. It was Diana.


  Andrew closed the door to his room, cocooning Diana and him. “You look breathtaking.”

  She ducked her chin, reminding him of her namesake. “Oh, this old thing. It’s something I pulled out of the back of the closet.”

  “It’s not the frock I’m speaking of.” If only their plans called for a quiet evening instead of separate wedding activities. He’d enjoy peeling her out of her ensemble, beginning with the stiletto heels.

  “What is it then?” Diana stepped into his embrace.

  “This lovely blush for one thing.” He trailed his hand from her cheek, down her neck, to her décolletage. “And the way you caught the sun yesterday while lying by the pool.”

  “Correction. I was going over last-minute changes to the reception menu. I happened to be poolside while doing it.”

  “I admire the way you manage to balance work and pleasure.” He appreciated everything about her, especially the way their bodies fit so nicely together.

  “Too bad we can’t do a better job of creating that equilibrium tonight. What time do you think you and the guys will be back from Vicksburg?”

  “Uncle Neville likes to stick to his schedule. Dinner at eight. Bed by eleven.”

  “Mama’s bridal shower will be over long before then.”

  Andrew fingered a curl that had come lose from her chignon. “Will you wait up for me?”

  “I could be persuaded to forfeit sleep for the right price.”

  He nibbled her earlobe. “I have the offering in mind.”

  “You have a deal.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “Room service will bring you up something as soon as you return.”

  He’d come to love Greenbrier’s room service. “Now you’re making it difficult for me to leave.”

  She tugged from his embrace. “I know. Me too.”

  “If we’re going to keep things under wraps, we need to be careful.” Guilt panged him. Nothing in the world would give him greater pleasure than to tell the whole world he’d fallen for Diana Curtis. However, in revealing the fact, he’d risk exposing another. One he was desperate to keep from her. “We wouldn’t want to take focus away from Neville and Jackie’s happy event.”

  Diana gnawed her lip. “You’re right.” She lowered her gaze. “I’ll see you later. Have a good time with Doc James and the guys.”

  He barked a laugh. “I’m sure it will be a night to remember.”

  Greenbrier’s chef, the head gardener, and the husband of Diana’s events manager were joining the veterinarian for Neville’s bachelor party. As pleasant as the chaps surely were, he barely knew them, and the only thing they had in common were the Curtis women—not much to base an entire evening’s conversation on. Especially when he suspected Doc James harbored feelings for Diana.

  Not long after slipping from Andrew’s suite, Diana sat in a metal folding chair Mrs. Baxter had borrowed from the church hall. Along with the other women in the living room, she balanced a plate of cheese straws and petit fours on her knee while attempting to drink the ubiquitous, frothy punch.

  At least it’s lime sherbet this time.

  Diana sipped the syrupy-sweet concoction as her mother opened presents. Between nibbles, she recorded the gifts and the giver, so Jackie could get started on the thank-you notes first thing in the morning. Her mind wandered beyond the place settings and dish towels. It wasn’t the dress-ruining raspberry punch from the last wedding hosted at Greenbrier on her mind now.

  What was Andrew’s secret?

  She’d known him a matter of days, so inevitably there were mountains of undivulged facts. Habits, preferences, girlfriends. This was bigger, deeper, broader. And he was actively keeping it from her.

  “You’re looking tired, dear. Have you been working too hard?” Diana’s kindergarten teacher studied her with the same critical eye as when she’d colored pictures outside the lines.

  Diana smiled at the well-preserved matron on her right. “Not too hard, Mrs. Leffler. Just the right amount.”

  Only planning a wedding fit for the queen of the garden club in less than a week all while maintaining two other enterprises.

  “Have you considered adding an eye cream to your nightly routine. It’s never too early to fight Father Time.” Since retiring, the woman had begun selling Mary Maybelle Cosmetics and earned a lilac convertible for her efforts.

  “I’ll borrow Mama’s.”

  “When can we expect to hear wedding bells for you?”

  “Not any time soon. I’m married to my work at present.”

  Diana looked around the room. Much had changed in their little corner of the world in the space of a generation. Among the attendees were an optometrist, school administrator, police officer, and several business owners mixed in with the stay-at-home moms. Rather than easing the pressure to adhere to traditional gender roles, it seemed to add to societal expectations. Now a woman had to do it all, have it all, be it all, to be considered a success. Right now, she would settle for keeping her accounts in the black and a corner piece of Beverly Bakery’s famous sheet cake with cream cheese frosting.

  A future with Andrew seemed too much to expect.

  Her thoughts raced ahead to Lord and Lady Somerset’s arrival tomorrow. Dread snaked up her spine and not only because they were laying eyes on the next Duchess of Effingham for the first time.

  Having only dated guys from Greenville, she’d never experienced a meet-the-parents moment. They’d all known her since birth. What would Andrew’s folks think of her? Not that it mattered, since they wouldn’t be meeting her as Andrew’s love interest. Still…

  From her left, Jasmine elbowed her. “Pay attention. You’re supposed to be writing this down.”

  Diana jolted. “Right.” She tracked the movement of presents as they circled the room. “What did I miss?”

  “Only Ida Douglas’s gift.”

  Purple. Crocheted. Placemats. “Oh my.”

  “Wonder how that’s going to look in Dukie Dear’s castle.”

  Diana stifled a laugh. “Stop. It’s bad enough when Mama says it. Besides I don’t think Chatham Park is a castle.”

  “Have you seen pictures?”

  “Only on the internet. It’s big though. Makes Greenbrier look like a doublewide.”

  The day Neville and Andrew arrived, Diana did a basic search on the aristocrats. Burke’s Peerage, Debrett’s, and good ole Wikipedia. The snooping shamed her now she knew them better. At the time she wanted to make certain whom her mother had dragged home.

  “Have they said when they’re leaving?”

  “Not for a while. Andrew suggested they stay here for a few months.” Which had set off alarm bells. Why didn’t he want the newlyweds in England? That paired with her questions regarding his need to keep their relationship under wraps. Her lover was keeping secrets, but what, she couldn’t figure out.

  Between that and making love with said secret-keeper, no wonder Mrs. Leffler suggested eye cream. Before things returned to normal she’d probably be the woman’s best customer.

  Ten miles south of Greenville, in the moderately larger metropolis of Vicksburg, Andrew, Neville and their motley crew of revelers were in their second stop of the night—a private dining room of a casino.

  “Talk about a busman’s holiday.”

  The rattle of electronic gaming machines permeated through the red, flocked walls. Of all the gaming establishments he’d frequented in his career, the Lucky Lady had to be the most neon saturated. Even their dining table boasted a rope of flashing blue glowing beneath.

  “A toast,” Doc James raised his voice as well as his glass. “To the groom. Many happy years ahead.”

  Chef eyed Uncle Neville over his pint. “You be good to Miss Jackie.”

  Greenbrier’s gardener grinned. “Hear, hear.” Despite getting carded at every turn, he seemed to be enjoying the stag night—perhaps better than all the others combined. He took another sip of his beer then wiped the foam from his lips. “She’s one of a kind.”

  Jas
mine’s husband, an army sergeant called Wes, added his voice. “We love her like our own mother.”

  Uncle Neville tipped his glass of whiskey to each man in turn. “I shall endeavor to make her the happiest woman alive.”

  “One of us ought to give the duke some words of wisdom,” said the sergeant. “Isn’t that part of what we’re supposed to be doing tonight? At least that’s what Jasmine told me.”

  “I’m out.” Young Jacob raised his hands in surrender. “I’m on the lifetime bachelor plan.”

  “How about you, Sarge?” Chef asked. “You and Jasmine have a good thing going. Let’s hear something from you.”

  “She’s put up with me through five deployments. I’m lucky to have her, and she makes sure I know it.”

  Chef jabbed Wes in the shoulder with a beefy finger. “Come on, there has to be something.”

  He ran his palm over his close-cropped afro. “I bring her coffee in bed every morning.”

  Andrew made eye contact with Neville across the table.

  Don’t say it. Don’t say a word about staff bringing breakfast to the estate’s chatelaine in her suite.

  “Sounds like a wise practice. I’ll remember that one.”

  Andrew let out a breath and quickly shifted the focus. “How about you, Doc? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

  “Like that’s unusual,” Jacob muttered.

  “I don’t have anything to offer on the matter.”

  “Yeah, we all know the only females you’re interested in have four legs and eat grass.”

  He laughed. “They are easier to decipher than the two-legged variety.”

  “Now I happen to know you went out with Khristy Williams a few years back,” Wes said.

  “And you’ve had a thing for Miss Diana as long as I’ve know you,” Jacob added.

  Andrew’s hackles rose. Which was ridiculous. He could hardly blame the chap for admiring Diana. Wanting to be with her. Only an idiot wouldn’t. Or die trying to find a way to make himself worthy of her.

  “The only advice I’ve got is to never keep secrets nor let something small or insignificant stand in the way of love. Especially not something stupid like pride.”