“Ahem, sir,” the butler interrupted, causing Shelley to giggle as she moved away. “Might I have a word?”
“Of course,” Henry responded, slapping Shelley’s backside playfully as he told her to go and find something to do.
With a huge grin on her face, Shelley kissed Henry on the cheek before turning to his butler and kissing his cheek too, giggling loudly as his mouth fell open in shock and he stared at her. As his features relaxed and he half smiled at her, Shelley ran up the stairs to seek out Clara.
* * *
Finding Clara and Jessica in the little girl’s bedroom, playing with her dolls, Shelley excitedly told them her good news about the wedding. She asked Clara to be her maid of honour, and Clara tearfully accepted. As the pair hugged, Jessica climbed onto Shelley’s lap and stared up at her expectantly. Her little face was screwed up and Shelley smiled. “Jessica, would you like to be my flower girl?”
Jessica squealed loudly, almost deafening them, and hugged Shelley tightly. When she finally released her, Jessica grinned. “Can I have a pink dress, Mummy?” she asked excitedly. Shelley nodded. She’d set her heart on red, but she didn’t mind really. All that mattered was that she and Henry sealed their love. “And pink flowers?” Shelley smiled and nodded once more.
“Jessica,” Henry said sternly, walking into the room. “It’s Shelley’s special day. We have to let her choose what she wants.” Jessica pouted and cuddled up to Shelley, before whispering into her ear, “Please tell Daddy you want pink.”
Shelley laughed and looked at Henry, who shook his head, a wry smile touching the corners of his lips. “I want pink,” she smiled.
“Are you sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows sceptically.
Shelley put Jessica down on the floor and crossed the room towards Henry. She stroked his cheek tenderly and smiled. “Yes. I’m certain. I just want to marry you. They can wear sky blue pink with yellow dots on if they want, I really don’t care.”
Shelley laughed when Henry pulled a face and shook his head. “I don’t think I’d care too much for those colours,” Henry winced. “Pink it is then,” he smiled, leaning close to her and whispering in her ear, “and pink is a very fetching colour, especially when it’s adorning your bottom cheeks.” Shelley blushed when her fiancé gazed into her eyes and grinned. Leaning forward, he kissed her lips, his eyes sparkling with humour.
“If we’re to marry so soon, I don’t think I should wait for Mother to arrive and help me choose my dress,” she told him. “I think she’s right, I should arrange it now.”
Henry nodded. “You can go shopping with Clara. I’ll give you some money.”
Shelley smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “My parents will pay when they get here. Daddy says so in this telegram,” she told him, reaching into her pocket and handing him her father’s telegram, which she had almost forgotten about. She grinned when he shrugged his shoulders, shoved the unread telegram into his pocket, and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly.
Wrapping her arms around him, Shelley closed her eyes, dreaming longingly of her wedding day. It was going to be perfect, she just knew it was. As she struggled to break free of his vise-like grip and looked up at him, she suddenly stopped trying to escape and instead kissed his lips softly, realising with utter delight that she couldn’t wait to become his wife.
* * *
Over the next week Shelley went on several shopping trips with Clara and Jessica. Finally Shelley chose a stunning white wedding gown, with tiny pink rosebuds around the neckline. There were three larger pink rosebuds at the small of her back, under which there were fastenings to hold up the six-foot long train, which was edged with more miniature pink rosebuds.
Although Shelley had her heart set on a dress similar to the one her mother had selected, she had loved trying on a variety of gowns and found that this much more simple style suited her perfectly. She teamed it up with a short veil, but when it came to choosing a tiara, she asked if that could wait until her mother arrived in a week’s time. Shelley regretted there was not time for her mother to help choose her dress, but seamstress Valerie had already scolded her for leaving it so late.
Shelley desperately wanted her mother to have some input into her wedding ensemble, and was relieved when Valerie promised to have a good selection of tiaras for Lady Annabelle to choose from.
Shelley was thrilled that Valerie would be able to make dresses for Clara and Jessica, and she smiled enthusiastically, nodding in agreement when Clara was put into a simple long-sleeved dress with frilled cuffs and neckline. The dress was blue, and as Jessica stared at it, she pouted and sat on the floor with her arms folded, declaring petulantly, “I want pink.”
Valerie squatted down beside her and smiled. “I don’t have anything beautiful enough for you in here, sweetie, so I’m going to make something extra special for you. It’ll be very pretty and very pink,” she promised, holding out a swatch of pink fabric to Jessica, whose frown immediately disappeared, replaced with a huge grin. She jumped up and down excitedly, clutching the small piece of satin material in her hand.
“You can take that home,” Valerie told the excited little girl, who gripped it tightly in her fist as she hugged Shelley’s legs.
Jessica’s smile grew when Valerie returned with headdresses made up of large pink rosebuds, which she placed on Clara and Jessica’s heads. “Keep it on!” Jessica squealed, looking sad when Shelley shook her head.
“No, we need to keep it nice and clean for mine and Daddy’s wedding day,” she smiled. “We’ll let the nice lady keep everything here, and then we’ll be all clean and pretty for Daddy,” she told her, feeling relieved when Jessica nodded in agreement and reluctantly allowed the headdress to be removed from her head.
“You couldn’t advise me on a florist, could you?” Shelley asked.
Valerie smiled. “Yes, I could. My husband Maurice has a shop just down the street. I’ll warn you now, he’s a little eccentric,” she grinned, “but he really is very good. I guess I’m a little biased, but his flower arrangements truly are amazing. You should at least go and have a look,” she suggested, walking Shelley out of her shop and pointing her in the direction of Maurice’s.
Feeling a little apprehensive, Shelley headed to his shop, wondering what to expect.
“Excuse me, are you Maurice? Your wife sent us,” Shelley told him, stepping tentatively into his shop. Glancing around, she noted it was packed to the rafters with flowers and many sculptures, leaving little room to move. She reached out and touched the flowers that filled a small wheelbarrow, surprised to find they were imitation. They looked so real.
“Welcome, bella donna,” he gushed, rushing towards Shelley and kissing both of her cheeks. “I am Maur-eeeeeece,” he announced, stepping back and bowing down to her. “I am at your service, ma cherie.”
Shelley frowned. “Are you Italian… or French?” she asked.
“No, no, no, I am American,” he grinned, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it softly.
Shelley told him about her imminent wedding, and Jessica held out the swatch of pink fabric. Shelley immediately fell in love with the effervescent young man. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his blue eyes sparkled as he enthusiastically showed Shelley samples of his work, making suggestions of what would work well. He was very animated, his arms waving about manically as he flitted around his small shop, dragging Shelley along behind him. Shelley was terrified they would knock something over as he charged around, but fortunately—and unbelievably—there was no damage done.
Shelley took his advice and ordered beautiful small posies of pink roses for Clara and Jessica, a pink rose and white lily corsage for her mother, white lily buttonholes for the men, and a posy of large pink rosebuds with white gypsophila, hand-tied with pink and white ribbons, for her own bouquet.
Shelley instantly warmed to the florist, who was very tactile and overly friendly, but certainly not in an offensive manner. His enthusiasm wa
s catching. Jessica loved him and shrieked with delight when he picked her up, sat her on the counter, and showed her drawings of sculptures he had designed, including lots of real flowers woven into the framework.
“I saw you look at the silk flowers, but such a glamorous woman cannot have fake flowers on this most important day. It would be a travesty! And for the most beautiful bride,” he said, grinning as Shelley’s cheeks flushed pink, “my most spectacular sculpture yet. No one has ever hired this. It is still a virgin… like the bride,” he added, winking suggestively as Shelley’s cheeks turned scarlet. He glanced sideways at Clara, and the pair giggled.
“I am sorry,” he apologised, squeezing her hand affectionately. “I did not mean to embarrass you.” Waving aside his indiscretion, he pulled a large sheet of paper from under the counter.
Shelley and Clara exchanged glances, and Shelley had to suppress a grin when Maurice laid out a detailed, full-colour sketch of a huge pink flamingo, which he insisted would look “a-maaaaaaaaaay-zing” at her reception. She could hardly believe he was married to the very down-to-earth, almost dowdy woman in the dress shop. Had Shelley not known that he was married, she might even have wondered about his sexuality.
Hearing they were having the reception at home, Maurice was thrilled and showed her the type of floral arrangements that he could make for the tables and the hallway.
Making an appointment for him to go see the house and decide exactly what he would do, she really hoped she could talk him out of the flamingo, which was a little tacky in her opinion. Glancing at Clara, who was hiding a grin behind her hand as she stared wide-eyed at the pink monstrosity, Shelley guessed her friend shared her views on that one.
Reluctantly leaving the bubbly Maurice’s shop, they finally went to choose their shoes. Shelley was a little concerned that Jessica may be disappointed when she enthusiastically held her scrap of fabric out to the sales assistant and announced, “I want shoes like that.” But Shelley was delighted when the woman smiled, took Jessica’s hand, and disappeared out the back of the shop with her, quickly returning with shoes in the exact shade of pink. Shelley quickly bought them, along with white satin shoes for herself and Clara.
* * *
When they returned home, Shelley sought out Henry and was pleased to find him in the ballroom. This grand room was only used for entertaining a few times a year, and Shelley was delighted they were to use it for their wedding reception. Shelley smiled brightly as he showed her a plan of how the room would be set out, where the top table would be, and the planned seating arrangements. She was thrilled he had included Clara’s family, and she rushed off to tell her friend the good news.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” sobbed Clara, rushing to the ballroom to hug Henry and thank him. Shelley smiled and linked her friend’s arm as they went out to send a telegram to Clara’s mother, telling her that Henry had arranged tickets for them all to sail over to America for a visit. She told her mother where she needed to go to collect the tickets, adding that she looked forward to seeing her and the little ones very soon.
Shelley could not be happier. She was about to marry the man she loved, she was going to be reunited with her parents, and now her friend would also be seeing her own family again. Things could not get any better than this.
When Shelley and Clara returned home after sending the telegram to Mrs Carter, Shelley went off in search of Henry. When she found him, she led him into his study. Closing the door behind them, she led him to his chair, sat down on his lap and hugged him.
“You told me to think about something you could buy me as a special wedding gift,” she reminded him. Henry nodded and smiled, kissing her on the cheek.
“There is something I’ve thought of,” she told him, anxiously chewing her lower lip.
Henry smiled and gripped her hand, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
“Anything your heart desires,” he told her, brushing away a stray hair and tucking it behind her ear.
Shelley lifted her head and looked at him. “It isn’t really for me.” She lowered her head when Henry frowned.
“Shelley, what is it?” he asked, cupping her chin in his hand and raising her face so she was forced to look at him.
“It’s Clara.” Shrugging her shoulders, she continued. “I don’t need anything. I’ve got all I want.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against her fiancé’s.
“But Clara, she misses her family so much. She sends all of her wages to her mother, but there’s nothing to keep them in England. I wondered if you might bring them here, permanently I mean.” Shelley sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she almost whispered the last sentence.
Her heart soared when Henry gripped her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it softly. “If that’s what you want,” he told her, shaking his head. “You’re the most generous and thoughtful person I’ve ever met. No wonder I love you so much. Clara is lucky to have a friend like you.”
Shelley smothered him with kisses, and hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe. Finally releasing him, she watched with delight as he prepared a telegram, asking Mrs Carter if she would like to move her family to New York on a permanent basis. He offered to set them up in accommodation nearby, suggesting she might like to take over Shelley’s cleaning duties, while her children were at school, and that Clara could continue in her job as Jessica’s nanny. He finished by telling her that it was Shelley’s request he make this offer, in lieu of a wedding gift from him to her, and he would be delighted if they would accept.
* * *
A few hours later Henry found Shelley in her bedroom. Checking that Clara wasn’t around, he gave her the good news that Mrs Carter had agreed to his proposal.
“She was absolutely thrilled, and couldn’t thank us enough, but she doesn’t want Clara to find out until she arrives in New York. So it’s to be our secret for now,” he stressed.
Shelley nodded, wondering how on earth she would keep this amazing news from Clara.
“And let me warn you, young lady,” Henry said firmly. “If you dare to spoil the surprise, I’ll take a large paddle to your bare bottom every single day until you walk down that aisle. Do I make myself clear, missy?”
Shelley pouted and nodded, promising she would not spoil the surprise. She didn’t want to take away Mrs Carter’s pleasure at being able to tell her daughter they could be a family again, but more than that, she did not want to find herself across Henry’s knee for such a severe chastisement. Her scowl quickly disappeared when Henry pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” he smiled, hugging her close. “Your parents must be so proud.”
Shelley shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said sadly, knowing that despite their love for her, she had caused them so much shame too.
Henry shook his head. “Shelley, you’re such a generous young woman. Your gesture to Mrs Carter is so totally selfless, and I’m immensely proud of you, as I’m sure your parents will be too.”
Shelley smiled, her cheeks flushing as Henry praised her. She had not done it to make him proud. She truly did not need anything from him, apart from his love. Every day she saw her friend’s pain, which Clara tried hard to disguise with her cheery smile, and Shelley knew that having her family with her was all she needed to ease her burden. She would do anything possible to make her friend happy, and this had seemed the perfect opportunity to rectify that.
“Also, I felt sure you would be having red bridesmaid dresses and flowers,” Henry continued. “Red is your favourite colour, but you’ve allowed Jessica to have her way and opted for pink.”
Shelley smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “It really doesn’t matter to me about the colour of flowers or dresses. As long as we’re both there,” she smiled. “We could be naked for all I care.”
Henry grinned and squeezed her tightly. “Now there’s an idea,” he laughed, patting her bottom cheeks affectionately, “but I don’t really think
your parents would agree to that—or the vicar!”
Shelley laughed and smacked Henry playfully on the arm. She chewed her lower lip anxiously as she imagined the two of them naked, frolicking around. Her cheeks flushed and she hugged him quickly, trying to cover her embarrassment.
“Come on,” he told her, breaking free from her embrace. Taking her hand, he guided her towards the ballroom. “Mau-reeeeeeeeeeece is here, looking at the plans for the ballroom and seeing what he can do to ‘brighten up’ our home.” Henry said ‘brighten up’ in a very effeminate manner, mocking the very over-the-top florist. Shelley giggled when Henry led the way, though she really only needed to follow Maurice’s delighted shrieks to find him.
“He has some very grand ideas, including a huge pink flamingo,” Henry told her, raising his eyebrows questioningly, “so I think maybe we’d better intervene.” Shelley giggled, recalling the pink flamingo. With his arm draped possessively around Shelley’s waist, Henry took a deep breath and walked into the room with his wife-to-be.
“Hen-riiiiiiiiiiii,” the florist gushed the instant they entered the room. Henry flinched as Maurice pronounced his name as if he were French. Maurice rushed towards him and embraced him in a hug. “Sheeeeeeee-lleyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” he screamed, releasing a relieved Henry and hugging Shelley too, kissing both of her cheeks before letting her go. He waved his arms around like an excited child, rushing around the ballroom and suggesting various locations for his showpiece, the flamingo. Shelley watched him and giggled, noting that in his pink shirt and black trousers, he looked similar to the large bird sculpture. She imagined that if it were to magically come to life, it might flap around in a similar fashion to what its creator was doing at this very moment. She leaned across to Henry and whispered this observation into his ear. He laughed loudly and gripped her hand tightly.
Maurice didn’t seem to notice their laughter as he ran around the room, making various suggestions. He was talking so fast they could barely keep up with him, and Henry sighed and shook his head. Shelley giggled and squeezed his hand when Maurice told them how ‘fan-tas-teeeeeeeeeeeque’ the flamingo would look in the hallway.
The Delinquent Bride Page 15