They both nodded.
“All right. We’ll keep the vows simple. I won’t ask you anything that you have to lie to answer—we’ll stick to just what you need to get it done legally, which is surprisingly little.”
“Sounds great,” Mac said, feeling a swell of relief, and Fred’s slow exhalation told him she felt the same.
He’d be able to put things right at last. “Thank you,” he mouthed to Jackie.
She said nothing, just smiled and nodded, and then began to talk about the weather again.
“YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY SURE about this?” Sam asked.
It was just over a week later, Saturday eighteenth of March, twelve thirty p.m., and Mac was standing on the deck outside the restaurant, waiting for his bride. Scully sat by his side with a bow in her collar, the prettiest bridesmaid he’d ever seen.
“I’m sure.” Mac smiled at the strangeness of that reply. Since he’d first made the suggestion to Fred, he’d not had a single moment of doubt. It felt like the right thing to do, and he hadn’t regretted it for a second.
“Weirdo.” Sam stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I can’t believe you actually volunteered to get hitched.”
Mac grinned. After dating an ex whose sole goal had appeared to be to get his ring on her finger, Sam had developed an allergy to anything wedding related.
“Thanks,” Mac said. “For being my best man, such as it is.” Sam was there to be a witness.
“Yeah, well, it’s not quite the role I’d anticipated. I thought I was going to be able to do the whole kit and kaboodle, you know, make jokes about your first dates, embarrass you, embarrass the bride... Doesn’t have quite the same effect when the two of you don’t give a damn about each other.”
Mac gave his best mate a wry look. There was an undernote of warning in Sam’s words. He didn’t agree with what his friend was doing, although he would never say in so many words.
“I do give a damn about her,” Mac said. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t.”
“I guess. Not sure you can say the same about her. It makes her a bit of a cold fish, if you ask me.”
“Careful,” Mac said. “That’s my bride-to-be you’re talking about.”
“Mac...”
“Sam, relax. We’re here to sign a business contract, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. Yeah, it’s a shame it’s binding for two years, but it won’t change a single thing about our daily lives. Nobody will even notice.”
He’d taken every care to make sure that was the case, not wanting Fred to have any worries about what they were about to do. He’d taken Fred to meet Jace Hart, his lawyer in Kerikeri, who also happened to have been Harry’s lawyer, and who was aware of the problems with the fake will. Jace, and Fred’s lawyer in the U.K., had confirmed all that was required was a legal marriage certificate for Fred to access the funds tied up in her inheritance, and there was no clause that demanded to know when she’d met her husband, or how long they intended to stay together. Jace had also drawn up a pre-nup for Fred on Mac’s insistence, in which he signed away any claim on her money or her share of the estate. She’d then made Jace draw up one for Mac in which she’d done the same, making it clear that the two of them were to lead individual lives and have no claim on the other’s money or property.
“I’m still kinda surprised she didn’t want all the paraphernalia of a real wedding,” Sam said. “I thought women liked dressing up.”
“Fred’s not like that. We agreed that, as it was a business deal, there was no point in arranging anything special.”
Sam turned his astute gaze on his friend. “So why is it happening here and not in the registry office in Kaikohe?”
For a second, Mac found himself tongue-tied. He could see in Sam’s eyes his suspicion that Mac had feelings for the woman with whom he was about to tie the knot.
He was right, of course. But it was irrelevant. Just because he liked Fred, it didn’t mean this wasn’t about business.
“It might not be a love match,” he explained, “but it still has meaning. It feels right for it to happen at the vineyard, and Fred feels the same. I want it to be a celebration of the end of hostility between our families.”
“Very Henry Tudor,” Sam stated.
Mac laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Sam said softly.
“I’m sure.” Mac looked out across the vineyard. “I had to do something. If they’d turned up and been three spoilt brats who’d yelled at me for stealing their fortune, I might not have felt so inclined to help. But I think you’ll understand when you meet them.”
“I hope so. I’m guessing there must be something special about them if they’re Harry’s girls.” Sam had been fond of Harry Cartwright—they both had. “I wonder what he’d think of this ‘transaction’,” Sam said, putting air quotes around the word.
“I hope he’d be touched that I’m trying to put things right,” Mac replied. Poor Harry. Betrayed by both the man he’d thought was his best friend, and his own wife. Abandoned by all those he’d thought loved him. Mac’s throat tightened. If nothing else, he wanted to help Harry’s daughter get what she deserved.
“Mac?”
He turned to see Jackie waiting at the edge of the deck. She was wearing a dark-gray suit and a white blouse with a pink carnation pinned to the lapel of her jacket.
“Jackie.” He smiled and walked forward to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for doing this.”
She stepped back and held his hands, giving him a shrewd look. “You certain you know what you’re doing?”
“Don’t start,” he scolded.
She squeezed his hands and released them. “All right. As long as you’re sure.”
“My son doesn’t do anything until he’s thought it through,” said a woman who’d just rounded the corner behind her. “At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Hey, Mum.” He bent and kissed his mother on the cheek. “You look lovely.”
Megan MacDonald wore a pretty turquoise dress, and she had a matching clip in her hair with a spray of butterflies that danced in the breeze. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t have to dress up,” he said.
“Hey, this is probably the only time I’ll be a mother-of-the-groom,” she said playfully. “I’m going to make the most of it.”
Mac smiled, for the first time feeling a twinge of uneasiness. It was odd, but even though they all knew this was about business, everyone had made an effort with their appearance, even Sam, who’d shunned his usual jeans and All Blacks top for a pair of smart black trousers and a checked shirt, although he hadn’t gone as far as donning a tie.
Mac himself had also chosen black trousers and a white shirt, and he’d shaved and was wearing his best watch and smart shoes. Now, he wondered why he’d made that decision. It must be the word ‘wedding’, he thought. Even though everyone knew what was going on, and even though nowadays fewer people were getting married and everyone kept saying the institution had little meaning, there was something about the exchanging of vows that you just had to take seriously.
He scratched his chin. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
It was too late to think about it now, though, because the door from the garden to the restaurant had opened, and Fred and her sisters were coming through.
His lips curved up as they crossed the restaurant and came onto the deck. All three of them had attempted to look casual, but they’d obviously taken time over their appearance.
Sandi wore a sleeveless blue dress, her hair falling over her shoulder in a single braid. Ginger wore cream wide-leg trousers and a navy blouse with large cream spots, and although her blonde hair hung loose, she’d pulled back a few strands with a clip bearing a small navy flower.
Fred was wearing a floor-length Indian-style skirt that changed from light orange on her hips to a deep russet red where it brushed the deck. Numerous sequins and beads sewn into the pleated material shimmere
d in the sunlight. She’d topped it with a short white tunic, and she wore flat red sandals. Her hair hung to her waist, but she’d plaited two thin braids at her temples and joined them at the back with a clip, making her look almost medieval, and bringing to mind Sam’s jest about Henry VII.
The past week, they’d started harvesting the Pinot Gris and Chardonnay grapes, and the two of them had worked flat out alongside the seasonal employees, Fred beside him more often than not, listening to everything he said as he supervised the grape picking and showed her the process from vine to bottle. It was with no small sense of irony that he’d thought how well they worked together considering what they were about to do.
She hadn’t mentioned the kiss again, though, and neither had he.
“Hey,” he said as she walked up to him. He’d wondered whether she would look nervous, concerned that they were about to make a mistake, but to his surprise she gave him a big smile, her eyes dancing.
“Hello, husband-to-be,” she teased.
He laughed and held out his hand, enjoying the feel of her fingers when she slipped them into his. “Mum, I’d like you to meet my bride.” He drew Fred over to Megan.
“Hello, Mrs. MacDonald.” Fred cast him a scolding glance. Her cheeks flushed a little. She was embarrassed to face his mother. Aw, he thought. That was sweet.
“Hello, Fred, and please, call me Megan.” His mother kissed her on the cheek. “I’m very pleased to meet you, even if these are rather strange circumstances.”
“Just a bit.” Flustered, Fred turned to the two young women waiting behind her. “These are my sisters, Ginger and Sandi.”
Mac introduced them to Jackie, and also to Sam, who stood to one side, watching them all quietly. Mac was expecting a few wisecracks, some teasing from the guy who was so certain the three girls were secretly planning to destroy his best mate. He half expected him to query Fred on her prospects. But Sam stayed silent and polite, and for that, anyway, Mac was thankful.
“Okay,” Jackie said, leading them forward to where Mac had placed four chairs facing the vineyard, and a small table to one side. Neither of them had seen any point in organizing flowers or music, but he had designed a display for the table out of flowers from the garden and a few small bunches of grapes from the vineyard. He wasn’t sure why he’d done that.
“Shall we start?”
Mac met Fred’s eyes. They looked a little feverish, and her cheeks were still flushed, but she nodded and smiled, so he said, “Sure.”
His mother sat next to Sam, and Ginger and Sandi sat the other side. Jackie stood in front of them, and gestured for Mac and Fred to stand before her. Scully sat with Sam, loving having all her friends around.
“So.” She glanced around at them all, and smiled. “My name is Jacqueline Coulthard, and am the celebrant at today’s wedding. Mac has requested a brief ceremony, bearing in mind that this is a business transaction, so I won’t be going through my usual romantic spiel. However, I will start the way I usually do, in telling you that I am authorized by law to solemnize marriages according to law. I am supposed to remind you of the solemn and binding nature of the relationship you are about to enter. Marriage, according to New Zealand law, is the union of two people, to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life. The nature of your business relationship does not change the legal aspect of this relationship. Do you both understand?”
Fred cleared her throat and nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes,” Mac said. He met her gaze. She wasn’t smiling now, but she didn’t look away.
“Okay,” Jackie continued. “You’ve decided not to have any readings, songs, poems, or anything like that, and you won’t be exchanging rings, so there are only the vows to say. Are you both ready? This is going to be quick—now is the time to speak up if you need more time.”
Fred shook her head. “I’m ready.”
Mac glanced at Sam, who raised an eyebrow, then at his mother, who smiled. He nodded at Jackie.
“Mac, you first please,” Jackie said. “Will you repeat after me? I call upon the persons here present to witness that I, Eamon James MacDonald, take you, Winifred Rose Cartwright, to be my lawful wedded wife.”
Mac took a deep breath, looked into Fred’s eyes, and repeated the words.
Then it was Fred’s turn.
“I call upon the persons here present,” she began, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat and continued. “To witness that I, Winifred Rose Cartwright, take you, Eamon James MacDonald, to be my lawful wedded husband.”
Silence fell. Mac looked into Fred’s eyes. They were like forest pools, deep and green with brown shadows, and for a moment time fell away and he could almost feel her in his arms again, her mouth soft beneath his, her hands splaying on his chest.
Was Harry there, watching them? Did he know how Mac felt about her, deep in his heart?
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Jackie said. And then, a touch of mischief in her voice, she added, “Mac, you may kiss the bride.”
Chapter Fifteen
TO FRED’S RELIEF, EVERYONE laughed at Jackie’s comment. Mac sent the celebrant a wry look, then turned his smiling gaze to Fred, lifted her hand in his, and kissed the tips of her fingers.
Fred felt her face flush, although it was an innocent gesture, and his lips barely touched her. She was married. She was married! It made her head spin.
Jackie led them to the small table where she laid out the contract, and they spent a few moments dotting the ‘i’s and crossing the ‘t’s, with Sam and Sandi as witnesses. Fred signed her name in a daze. Over the past week, she’d spent most of her free time telling herself that this was purely business, and it didn’t mean anything. They weren’t promising to stay together forever, or to love no other for the rest of their days.
As everyone stood, however, and started making their way inside the restaurant where they’d planned to have dinner to celebrate the arrangement, Fred’s heart raced as she watched the tall, dark-haired man she’d just pledged herself to talking to his best mate. She watched Mac dip his head slightly to listen to what Sam was saying. She surveyed his relaxed pose, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, and she felt a little dizzy. She’d married him. Holy moly.
It meant nothing.
Why didn’t it feel like nothing?
Sam glanced at her, caught her gaze, and smiled. Mac turned to look at her, and he walked over and studied her face.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She sounded breathless, even to herself.
“All right.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”
She took it, letting him lead her inside, trying not to panic. Jackie was saying goodbye to the others, as she had another wedding in the bay shortly.
“Thank you,” Fred said to her when she came over. “I know it was against the rules, so to speak, and I appreciate your understanding.”
“Best of luck,” Jackie replied. “I hope it works out, for both of you.”
Fred opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but Jackie was already turning away to say goodbye to Mac. What did she hope would work out? The business arrangement? Or the marriage itself?
Shaking her head, Fred walked over to where her sisters were talking to Megan MacDonald and Sam. It was the first time she’d met either of them, and she felt shy talking to both Mac’s mother and his best friend, the two people in his life who would probably be most wary of what he’d done.
But Megan was laughing and her expression when she smiled at Fred certainly didn’t seem hostile.
“I was just saying to your sisters,” Megan explained, “how I hope this goes some way to putting right what James did.” Her smile faded a little, and Fred was reminded that the two of them had divorced when Mac was young, so clearly Megan had gained an understanding of James’s worth many years ago.
“It does,” Fred said amiably. “Mac is very generous, and I will always be g
rateful to him for what he’s done.”
“So, what are you going to do with the money?” Megan led the way to the table that had been laid for them. Amber, the young woman from the village who had worked in the B&B and whom Mac had kept on, had placed the centerpiece that Mac had made in the middle of the round table, and she was waiting now, smiling, as they took their seats.
“We’ve all been talking a lot about it,” Fred said. Mac took a seat opposite her, while Sam sat next to her. “We agree that new equipment for the vineyard is our priority, so some of it will go on that. But we also want to allocate a good portion toward the B&B and the restaurant. It’s important that we all have some cash to work with, and that the whole place gets at least a fresh coat of paint.”
“And you’re keeping Mac on as estate manager?” Megan leaned back so Amber could pour a glass of Chardonnay for her.
“Yes, of course.”
“Because you feel beholden to him?” Megan asked.
“No.” Fred kept her gaze even. “Because he’s an excellent viticulturist and clearly knows his stuff. I’m interested in the business and would like to be able to make decisions about our wine, but I need someone at the heart of things who knows what he’s doing, and who can teach me properly.”
She stopped, conscious of Mac watching her. Something in his blue eyes was giving her goosebumps, especially when she said, who can teach me properly. “About wine,” she added without thinking. Was it her imagination, or did his lips twitch? She was sure she saw him glance at Sam, and Sam’s eyebrows rise.
No, no, she was imagining it. Accepting a glass from Amber, she took a large gulp, desperate to calm her nerves. It’s just a piece of paper, Fred. There’s no small print, no magical clause that’s going to whisk away your freedom. Get a grip.
For a while, she sat back and listened to the others talk, and gradually she relaxed and began to enjoy herself. Their worries really were over, for a while at least. Her sisters were happy and laughing. Megan was obviously pleased that the curse her husband had laid on the estate appeared to have lifted. Sam was teasing her sisters, especially Ginger, who was giving as good as she got and thoroughly enjoying herself. And Mac... The cloud that had been hanging over him since she’d arrived appeared to have lifted, and he actually seemed happy.
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