Teresa Hill – Diamonds are for Deception: The Carlotta Diamond / The Texan's Diamond Bride / From Dirt to Diamonds (страница 23)

Sojo sighed. ‘How romantic. But to get to the nitty-gritty, does Sir Nigel know?’

‘Yes, we told him almost as soon as we got back.’

‘What did he say?’

‘For some reason he seems to have taken a fancy to me, and he was genuinely pleased. He’s going to give me away.’

‘I thought he was very ill,’ Sojo commented.

‘He is. That’s why Simon would like us to get married as soon as possible. He’s going to apply for a special licence so we can arrange the wedding for Wednesday or Thursday.’

‘You don’t mean this Wednesday or Thursday?’ Sojo asked faintly.

‘Yes…’

‘Well, he certainly doesn’t waste any time.’

‘And I’d like you to be my bridesmaid.’

‘I was only joking, you know,’ Sojo protested laughingly.

‘I’m not.’

‘What does Simon think of the idea?’

‘He suggested it.’

‘Then I’d love to! I’ll dig out my best frock.’

‘Speaking of frocks, I’d be grateful if you could pack my clothes and shoes et cetera and bring them down with you.’

‘All of them?’

‘I suppose so. I won’t be coming back.’

‘Of course you won’t.’ Just for a moment she sounded lost. ‘I’m afraid it hasn’t sunk in yet. Do you mind if I keep the flat on? It’s become home.’

‘Of course I don’t mind. I was hoping you would.’

‘What about the shop?’

‘I’m going to ask Margaret if she’ll manage it, at least for the time being,’ Charlotte said.

‘She once told me she felt far too young to retire, so it’s my bet she would be happy to manage it on a permanent basis. I don’t suppose you’re planning to work after you’re married?’

‘I haven’t even thought that far ahead. But I can’t imagine Simon would want me to.’

‘Aah…’

‘What do you mean, aah…?’

‘You used to be so cool and self-sufficient. Now, I’m delighted to say, your voice goes all soppy every time you say Simon.’

‘It does no such thing,’ Charlotte protested.

Taking the denial for what it was worth, Sojo added, ‘I can’t wait to meet the man who’s had such a devastating effect on you, so I’ll grab a sandwich and get cracking with the packing. See ya!’

The line went dead.

Smiling to herself, Charlotte pressed end call and tapped in Margaret’s number.

When the older woman had heard the news, after a flurry of oohs and aahs and excited congratulations, she expressed her willingness to manage the shop for as long as Charlotte wanted her to.

‘It’s all happened so quickly,’ she added, ‘I can hardly believe it.’

Charlotte felt very much the same.

‘Fancy being swept off your feet like that!’ She sighed gustily. ‘Isn’t it wonderfully romantic? I hope you’ll both live happily ever after, just like they do in fairy tales…’

But were fairy tales bound to have happy endings? Charlotte wondered as she replaced the receiver.

Not necessarily. She recalled a poetic version of Spellbound that ended, ‘glass coffin, no prince.’

Despite the warmth of the room, a sudden cold chill, a premonition, drained the colour from her face and made a shiver run through her.

‘Is there a problem?’ Simon’s voice asked.

Feeling silly, she said, ‘No… No, everything’s fine. Sojo seems highly delighted, and Margaret is quite willing to manage the shop for as long as I want her to.’

‘Then why are you looking so upset?’

She managed a smile. ‘I’m not.’

Plainly dissatisfied, he was about to probe further when there was a tap at the door and Mrs Reynolds appeared, to say, ‘Lunch is ready when you are. It being Sunday, I’ve asked Milly to set it in the dining-room. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Yes, fine. Thank you, Ann.’

A hand at Charlotte’s waist, he ushered her through to the panelled dining-room, where a table that would have held a dozen or more was set for two.

‘So what’s wrong?’ he pursued, when they were seated and the soup had been served.

‘Nothing’s wrong, really.’

Seeing a frown draw his well-marked brows together, she added awkwardly, ‘It was just that Margaret said she hoped we would both live happily ever after, ‘‘like they do in fairy tales’’. I was just wondering if fairy tales always ended happily, when a goose walked over my grave…’

He looked oddly relieved.

Eager to change the subject, she asked, ‘How did you get on?’

‘I had a word with both Matthew and James. They were pleased to hear the news. James is quite willing to be best man, and Matthew said he could see no reason why, if the vicar of our chosen church was agreeable, we shouldn’t start planning the wedding for Wednesday. Unfortunately he’s away at a conference and won’t be able to attend, but, bearing in mind Grandfather’s state of health, he agreed that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible. As luck would have it, I was able to catch the Reverend David Moss, the vicar of St Peter’s, between his morning service and lunch. He had nothing scheduled for Wednesday, so I’ve arranged for an eleven o’clock wedding, if that’s all right by you?’

‘Fine.’

‘Then that’s the most important thing settled,’ he said with satisfaction.

An odd little shiver ran though her, leaving her shaken and uncertain. She wanted to marry Simon, wanted to be his wife, so why, instead of feeling joyful and happy, did she feel uneasy, as if some sixth sense was warning that all was not well?

‘Which leaves just a few odd ends to tie in,’ he went on. ‘The most important of which is a decision on where you’d like to spend your first honeymoon. I suggested Paris or Rome as being reasonably close—we can always go further afield at a later date—but if there’s anywhere else you prefer… Amsterdam? Venice? Vienna?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m quite happy with either Paris or Rome.’

‘It’s for you to choose.’

‘Then Rome. Along with some student friends I spent a weekend in Paris, which I loved, but I’ve never been to Rome.’

‘Rather than staying in the city itself, which can be extremely noisy, I suggest that we find somewhere in the hills just outside Rome. There are some delightful little villages…’

While they discussed the various options, she made a determined effort to dismiss the feeling of uneasiness. But a faint niggle persisted until lunch was over.

As they left the dining-room, he asked, ‘Are you planning to let your mother and stepfather know about the wedding?’

‘I’m afraid I hadn’t thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘Though I will, of course.’

‘Perhaps you’d like to phone them now?’

Well aware that the suddenness would come as a shock to her conservative mother, Charlotte hesitated. Then realising they had to know, and it would be as well to get it over with, she said, ‘If you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. By the way, what’s your mother’s name now she’s remarried?’