Substitute Bride

by Angela Devine

  ‘You’ve been such a good sport about this!’ she trilled, standing on tiptoes and kissing James resoundingly. ‘I’m so glad you don’t bear grudges.’

  James gave her a cold look and Laura cringed inwardly. She couldn’t entirely blame him for being annoyed, and yet she also felt an unexpected surge of anger at the way he was spurning Bea’s peace overtures. Couldn’t he see how well-meaning and harmless and affectionate her sister was? Did he really intend to hold a permanent grudge against her from now on? Well, at least Laura herself didn’t have to have any more to do with him!

  But first there was the reception to endure. This was to be held in an old sandstone hotel only a stone’s throw from the church, and Laura enjoyed a few moments’ respite in the soothing task of holding up Bea’s train as they walked across to the other building. Once inside the gracious ballroom, with its parquetry floor, high ceiling and long windows overlooking the water, Laura found her reprieve was over. A stylishly dressed auburn-haired woman in her mid-forties marched briskly across to her, extended her gloved hand and spoke in a high, carrying voice.

  ‘How do you do? You must be Laura and I’m Priscilla, Sam’s mother. I’m so sorry we didn’t have a chance to meet before the ceremony. However, since you and dear Beatrice haven’t any parents of your own, I’ve arranged for you and James to take the place of the bride’s parents in the receiving line. Come along, now. I want you standing by the door. You’re to shake hands with everyone who comes in, then pass them on to Adrian and me and finally to the bride and groom.’

  With a sinking sensation, Laura found herself pushed into position next to James and moved around to Priscilla’s satisfaction. James seemed to derive a certain sardonic amusement from his ex-sister-in-law’s manoeuvres, and endured her fussing with an expression of lazy derision.

  ‘Priscilla’s father was a major in the Australian Army,’ he remarked when at last she moved away.

  He hadn’t bothered to drop his voice and Laura saw a militant flash in the older woman’s eyes as she took her place a few feet away from them. Not wanting to trigger off a family row, she ducked her head and mumbled something inaudible. Wasn’t a wedding supposed to be the happiest day of a woman’s life? Well, it didn’t look as if Bea’s was going completely to plan! What with the icy civility between Sam’s divorced parents and the Cold War between Laura and James, she would be lucky if she didn’t have a massacre on her hands by the end of the day.

  ‘Mr and Mrs William Evans,’ announced the usher.

  The line of guests began to move forward and Laura forced herself to smile, although a turbulent whirlpool of feelings was seething inside her.

  She only had to look at Bea’s starry eyes and the glow in Sam’s rugged face to feel absurdly glad about the whole event, so glad that she almost wanted to burst into tears of joy. Yet along with her happiness went an aching sense of loneliness. Things would never be the same for her and Bea from now on. It was odd to think that Bea was married and she wasn’t. In fact, walking up the aisle as a substitute bride at a wedding rehearsal was probably the closest she would ever get to being married herself. Unless she married Raymond. The thought depressed her so much that she heaved a deep sigh. James’s hand tightened warningly on her arm.

  ‘Try to look cheerful, can’t you?’ he whispered. ‘Anyone would think you were at a funeral, not a wedding.’

  His criticism annoyed her, but she had to admit the justice of the warning. With a determined effort, she pinned a smile on her lips and held out her hand as the usher announced the next couple.

  ‘Captain and Mrs Charles Russell.’

  Most of the guests were friendly and welcoming, although a few flashed covert glances from her to James as the line crawled forward. Once she heard the whisper ‘swapped places’ followed by ‘Shh!’ and felt her cheeks burn, but she held her head high and forced herself to continue shaking hands. Only once did her composure falter, when the usher announced ‘Mrs Sue Rigby’ and a blonde woman of about thirty stepped forward to shake hands with them both. Something in the way the woman’s eyes met James’s set warning bells clamouring in Laura’s head and she looked more attentively at the guest.

  To her dismay she saw that the other woman had the sort of slender, petite grace that made Laura feel like a raw-boned peasant in comparison. Sue’s clothes were impressive too—an exquisitely tailored dress in jade-green silk, with a toning floral jacket, complemented by a gold and pearl necklace and gold earrings. Her hair was styled in a geometric cut that showed off the flawless regularity of her features, with thickly lashed green eyes under arching eyebrows, a small, straight nose and perfect teeth. Only a touch of hardness about that lovely mouth robbed her face of total perfection. But James didn’t seem to have any complaints. Something in the intimate way he smiled down at Sue made Laura’s skin prickle with disapproval.

  ‘Where’s Mr Rigby?’ she asked in a stage whisper once the other woman was safely out of earshot.

  ‘Away in the Navy,’ replied James carelessly.

  Once the receiving line had ended, the gathering became more informal as white-jacketed waiters moved around with trays of champagne and savouries. Rather to Laura’s relief, James deserted her at the first possible opportunity and began to move about the room, talking to friends and relations. She realised she ought to be doing the same thing, as the only bridesmaid, but there didn’t seem any pressing need for her to oil the wheels socially. Everybody else knew each other—anyway, her feet were hurting and she felt thoroughly depressed.

  Picking up a glass of champagne, she sneaked behind a potted palm and sat down with a sigh of relief in an empty Chippendale chair. Yet, in spite of all her good resolutions, she could not prevent herself from watching James’s progress around the room. He did seem to have good manners; she had to give him that. If she hadn’t still been smarting because of their recent clash, she would have admired the way he moved easily from group to group, chatting to everyone.

  She was just watching him restore a crying child to her mother, when her attention was distracted by a flurry of movement in the chair next to her. She turned just in time to see Sam’s Aunt Wendy kick off her shoes with a sigh of relief and take a hefty gulp of champagne. Wendy grinned at her and raised her glass in a toast.

  ‘Well, here’s to you, Laura, I really have to hand it to you. You’re the first woman I’ve seen in fourteen years who’s managed to get under my brother’s skin. James is absolutely furious with you.’

  ‘Furious?’ echoed Laura in bewilderment, her gaze scanning the room in search of him. ‘I thought he seemed completely calm.’

  ‘That’s when he’s at his most dangerous! Take it from me, he would love to murder you. In fact, I doubt if he’ll ever forgive you for what you and Bea did.’

  Laura winced.

  ‘Oh, don’t,’ she begged. ‘I already feel guilty enough about it. It was an awful thing to do.’

  ‘Rubbish! It will do him good. After all, he’s been making women suffer enough for the last fourteen years. Let him try it for a change.’

  Laura felt a reluctant stir of curiosity.

  ‘What do you mean, “making women suffer”?’

  Wendy settled more comfortably into her chair with the air of someone preparing for a good gossip. She leaned forward confidentially.

  ‘His wife Paula treated him pretty badly, and after she left I think he must have sworn some kind of vow that he was going to take his revenge on females in general.’

  ‘Revenge? Why, what does he do?’ asked Laura.

  ‘He seems to specialise in enticing women into falling for him and then abandoning them. Or that’s the way it looks to an unbiased observer. Ever since he got divorced there have been heaps of women who hoped he would marry them, but he never does. He’s absolutely famous for being attentive and charming until he’s really lured them in, and then he loses interest and drops them. Look at him going to work on Sue Rigby over there.’

  Laura jerked her head up ha
stily, just in time to see James taking two glasses of champagne from a waiter’s tray and handing one of them to Sue with a caressing gesture. With their heads very close together, they chinked glasses and then drank in some kind of private toast.

  ‘Isn’t he a bastard?’ continued Wendy admiringly. ‘Mind you, most of the women he’s ditched have deserved it, in my opinion, and you never know, Sue might just prove to be the exception and catch him unawares. She’s famous for getting what she wants. Oh, excuse me, I’ve just seen a really luscious man going to waste with my dreary cousin. I’ll catch you later.’

  Retrieving her shoes, Wendy rose to her feet and moved purposefully away, leaving Laura with plenty to ponder. Was James really as callous as his sister suggested? And, if so, what business was it of hers? She wasn’t going to have any more to do with him, was she? All she felt for him was dislike of his arrogance, and there was no doubt that the antagonism was mutual. He had already made it perfectly clear that the only thing he felt towards her was hostility.

  Throughout the rest of the wedding reception Laura had no reason to change that opinion. James certainly didn’t seem to be making any attempt to add her to his tally of conquests. The few remarks he addressed to her over the meal were all completely harmless and, although he did invite her to dance once when the band began playing, she felt sure that it was only out of duty. And, when the best man proposed the toast to the bridesmaid, she noticed that James tossed off his champagne as if he were drinking some kind of vile medicine.

  She was relieved when the time came for her to go upstairs and help her sister change for her departure. When Bea was finally ready, and looking ravishing in a red woollen suit, she gave Laura a rapturous hug.

  ‘I’m so glad you came! It made everything perfect, and I know James will be nice to you from now on. Listen, couldn’t you stay on here a bit longer and have a holiday? I’m sure he’d be glad to show you around.’

  Laura thought of the hostility that had smouldered between her and James throughout the reception and she shook her head at Bea’s unquenchable optimism.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said.

  Which made it all the more of a shock when James approached her after Sam and Bea’s car had roared away and posed an offhand question.

  ‘Why don’t you stay on at my place for a while?’ he asked. ‘I think we ought to get to know each other.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LAURA was so taken aback that she could only gape at him, but his face was inscrutable and gave little clue to the motives that lay behind his invitation. Was it a genuine attempt at peacemaking or…? Something in the hooded stillness of his tawny gaze sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine. No, she didn’t think that peacemaking was high on James Fraser’s agenda, and his sister’s blunt warning suddenly echoed in her head with ominous significance. ‘He seems to specialise in enticing women into falling for him and then abandoning them.’ Was that what he was up to? Well, if so, she wasn’t going to be one of his guinea pigs!

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said with an unconvincing smile. ‘But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. I have other plans.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘What a pity. You and I have a lot to discuss. Are you sure you won’t change your mind?’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  An absurd pang of regret stabbed through her as he smiled carelessly and moved away to speak to somebody else. With a feeling of anticlimax she made her own rounds of the remaining guests, shaking hands and uttering mechanical farewells. She felt a momentary flicker of pleasure when Wendy also urged her to stay on for a few days’ sightseeing, but with some regret she refused that invitation too. There was far too much risk of running into James if she was at his sister’s house.

  All the same, her disappointment lingered until Wendy dropped her off at the colonial cottage where she was staying. But as she pushed open the bedroom door disappointment was abruptly transformed into complete bewilderment at the discovery that the owner of the cottage was busy making up the bed with fresh sheets. Not only that, but all Laura’s possessions had vanished. What on earth was going on?

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Laura. ‘And where’s all my luggage?’

  ‘Goodness, you startled me!’ said the woman, rising to her feet and shaking a pillow into a clean pillowslip. ‘James Fraser came a few minutes ago and collected your bags. He said you were going to stay at his house for a while. Has there been some mistake?’

  Rage scorched through Laura’s veins like neat alcohol. There certainly has, she thought to herself. She opened her mouth to pour out her indignation and then paused. The other woman was looking at her with avid curiosity, and the realisation dawned on her that she had probably already heard the story of how Laura and Bea had swapped places at the wedding rehearsal. The last thing Laura wanted to do was fuel any more small town gossip. With an effort she controlled herself.

  ‘No—o,’ she said slowly. ‘Not really. It’s just that James has moved faster than I expected. I, um, didn’t think I’d be going to his place until tomorrow. Well, I suppose the only thing to do is to settle up my account and go and have a talk to good old James about this.’

  ‘Oh, there’s nothing to pay,’ said the other woman brightly, smoothing the bedspread over the pillows. ‘James has already settled your account.’

  Laura gritted her teeth.

  ‘I see. Well, thank you very much. I’ve enjoyed my stay here.’

  ‘Good. Perhaps you’ll come and visit us another time.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Laura was so furious that she sent the hire car hurtling along the country roads, raising a cloud of gravel and fawn dust as she went. When at last she pulled up outside James’s farmhouse, she marched in through the open back door and then paused in the hallway, looking about her. A thudding sound led her to the dining room, where she found James on his knees at the hearth, stirring up a blazing fire with a poker. He turned at her approach, rose to his feet and smiled. It was an infuriating smilesmug, sly and full of triumphant amusement. It made Laura’s blood boil.

  ‘What are you playing at?’ she snapped.

  ‘I could ask you the same thing,’ he replied lazily. ‘I don’t think we’ve got our accounts entirely settled yet, do you? I want to talk to you.’

  ‘So that’s why you’ve stolen my luggage and paid my bill without asking me?’ she flared. ‘I could sue you for this.’

  ‘Could you?’ he replied mildly. ‘Is it a criminal offence to pay someone’s bill? I must ask Wendy.’

  ‘Well, if it’s not an offence, it should be! Will you kindly tell me how much I owe you, give me my bags and let me go?’

  James’s smile grew broader.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean—no?’

  ‘Exactly what I say. I want you to stay and have tea with me, Laura, so that we can have a little talk.’ He gestured at the table, which was invitingly set with fine china and an array of cakes and biscuits. ‘It’s all ready.’

  ‘I don’t want tea,’ snapped Laura, although as a matter of fact she was dying for a cup. ‘I want to get my bags and go back and stay at the cottage where I was before you interfered.’

  ‘Oh, that won’t be possible, I’m afraid,’ said James, shaking his head regretfully. ‘It’s already been let to someone else for the night.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Well, when I told Cathy Wace that you were staying here with me, I also suggested to my cousin Bill Evans and his wife that they might like to stay there overnight instead of driving home. And I think you’ll find every other place around here is booked out because of the wedding. That seems to leave you with a choice of staying with me or facing a long drive to Hobart in your bridesmaid’s dress without any luggage.’

  Laura stared at him in horrified comprehension.

  ‘Do you mean you’re refusing to hand over my luggage unless I stay here?’

  James remained silent, but his eyebrows ros
e sardonically and a taunting smile remained glued to his lips. He made the faintest possible inclination of his head, which might have been a nod.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ she burst out.

  ‘Can’t I?’

  That smoky, provocative voice was the last straw. Without warning, Laura lost her temper. Letting out a low gasp of rage, she stormed across the room as tempestuously as a river in spate, picking up obstacles and flinging them aside. She tripped over the poker and kicked it aside, snatched the Saturday newspaper off the couch and hurled that away, then dropped down into an armchair with a groan of outrage.

  ‘It’s unfair—utterly unfair!’ she shouted. ‘First my idiot sister drags me into this mess and then I end up in the clutches of a lunatic who steals my luggage and tries to trap me here. Well, I won’t stay, do you hear me? I won’t stay!’

  She flung her arms wide in such a fierce gesture that her right fist knocked over a lamp, which tumbled onto the coffee-table with a loud crash. James ambled across and set it upright again.

  ‘You know, Sam told me you were the calm, sensible one in the family,’ he remarked in a conversational tone.

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ exclaimed Laura.

  Kneeling down, he began to pick up a saucer full of candies which had been scattered by Laura’s attack on the lamp.

  ‘I still can’t believe a mature woman like you would get involved in such a ridiculous masquerade,’ he remarked.

  ‘Do you think it was my idea?’ she demanded hotly.

  ‘Well, you didn’t try to stop her, did you?’

  ‘It would have been like trying to stop a volcano from erupting. She’s uncontrollable; she always has been! I’ve spent eighteen years trying to head her away from disaster and it hardly ever works.’

  He paused in his task and looked at her thoughtfully. Crouched down as he was, he was only a few inches away from her, and his eyes were on a level with hers. She found that steady, golden gaze unnerving, and even more unnerving was the knowledge of the latent strength in his body. He would only have to reach out and take hold of her and she would be trapped at his mercy in the armchair. The thought sent a tingling thrill of apprehension through her.