mad? Demanding that Mack Chaney be thrown out?
“Tristan, tell me it’s not true.” Her eyes sought her bridegroom’s face. The clean-cut, perfectly sculptured features were ashen, his long-lashed gray eyes stricken. Would he look so pale and shocked if it wasn’t true? “Tristan…” Her eyes caught his, pleading with him. “Tell me he’s wrong.”
Tristan found his voice at last, a hoarse croak. “Of course he’s wrong.” He turned accusing eyes on Mack, but there was little fire in the gray depths, and his voice shook as he demanded, “Where’s your proof? You’ve been listening to malicious idle gossip.”
“It was a piece of idle gossip that led me to check up on your past,” Mack rasped. “It didn’t take long to uncover your shabby secret. You married a woman ten years ago while you were a student at university, and you’ve never obtained a divorce!” He pulled some papers from his pocket. “Here’s a copy of your marriage certificate, and confirmation in writing that no divorce has been filed.”
Lucy gasped. Tristan’s pale face seemed to crumple. He cast an anguished look at Suzie’s mother. No sympathy there. Just fury, shock and disbelief.
Tristan turned back to his stunned bride, brushing Mack Chaney aside to seize her hand. “We can work this out,” he promised hoarsely. “I’ll fix it.”
“You mean it’s true?” Suzie recoiled. Tristan had a wife he was still married to, and he’d kept it from her? Her perfect, high-principled, reliable Tristan had lied to her? Deceived her? That realization was almost as bad as knowing that her bridegroom was married and contemplating bigamy! She’d always thought Tristan so honest…so upright…so honorable.
Still reeling, unable to believe it, she asked carefully, spelling it out to make doubly sure. “You married another woman ten years ago and you’re still married to her?”
Tristan began to bluster. “It was never a real marriage, I swear it. Love never came into it. It was purely a—” he hesitated, his handsome face contorting in guilty anguish “—a marriage of convenience,” he mumbled, so low she could barely hear. “She was a foreigner—an overseas student—who wanted my help to stay in Australia. I was doing her a favor,” he asserted lamely. “We married in secret and kept it quiet. After a few months we split up and went our separate ways.”
“And where is she now?” Suzie forced out the question, feeling sick. If today’s wedding had gone ahead, she wouldn’t have been Tristan’s legal wife. She would have been married to a bigamist! And wasn’t it an offence, she wondered dazedly, to marry under false pretences, the way Tristan had? How could he be so dishonest and unprincipled! How could he?
Tristan wrung his hands. “I don’t know where she is. I heard the year after we…married that she’d left Australia and gone to some remote part of Africa to be a missionary or something. So much for wanting to stay in Australia!” He gave a disgusted snort. “I tried to trace her to send divorce papers, but she’d vanished from the face of the earth. Nobody knew where she’d gone. I’ve never heard anything of her since. She’s probably dead,” he said with a dismissive toss of his golden head.
“You would have been notified if she was dead,” Mack interjected coldly. “As her husband, you’re her next of kin.”
Next of kin…Suzie felt dizzy. No words could have made the nightmare more real.
“I’ll find her, darling.” Tristan gripped her arm. “I’ll get a divorce. We’ve been apart for years, so even if I can’t find her, there should be no problem….”
She looked up into his pale, handsome face, at his quivering jaw, at the long-lashed gray eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers, and saw him for the first time as he really was. A shallow, spoiled, weak-willed fraud, just as Mack had said.
“How could you, Tristan?” she cried. “How could you keep a thing like that from me? From the woman you say you love and want to marry and share your life with!”
“I—I’d forgotten about it,” he said weakly, but one look at his face was enough to tell her that was patently a lie. She wondered if he’d ever made an effort to find his wife, or if that was a lie, too. “It was so long ago, darling…we were just kids. Impetuous young students. It never meant anything…I hardly knew her…and now…well, she left Australia years ago, so why drag it up again?”
Suzie gave a choked cry. “Because you’re still married to her, Tristan…. Don’t you understand?” He still didn’t accept that he’d done anything wrong. He just wanted to shut it out of his mind and blot it out of his pampered existence as if it had never happened.
Oh, Tristan, she thought with a despairing sigh. I don’t know you at all. And here I was, feeling guilty about you not knowing the real me!
“Just go, Tristan.” She couldn’t bear to see the pained, self-righteous hurt in his eyes, or to listen to any more of his blustering self-justification. “I would never marry you now, whether you had your divorce or not.”
“I suggest,” Mack drawled, “that you go down to your mother, Tristan, and quietly lead her out of the garden, along with your closest relatives, to save them the embarrassment of a public scandal.”
Tristan’s stricken eyes flared in relief. “Yes, yes…thank you, I will.” He slunk out with a hoarse apology, his eyes avoiding his bride’s, as if too ashamed—or not brave enough—to meet her withering gaze.
Coward, Suzie thought, profoundly relieved that Mack had saved her from marrying such a lily-livered weakling—though she wished it had been anyone else but Mack Chaney who’d come to her rescue!
“Oh, darling, run after Tristan,” her mother pleaded. “Can’t you go ahead with the wedding and worry about…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the scathing contempt in her daughter’s eye. “Well, at least give Tristan a chance to—to extricate himself from this embarrassing—”
“Mum, I could never marry him now,” Suzie said flatly. “How could I ever trust him after this? After hiding a thing like an existing marriage from me? I thought he was a man of honesty and integrity. I th-thought he was perfect.”
She heard a snort from behind, and scowled. Mack was enjoying all this, no doubt…acting the big hero…sweeping to her rescue in the nick of time….
“Nobody’s perfect, darling,” her mother said pensively. “There’s good and bad in everybody. You’ll never find a perfect man. But Tristan is more perfect than any man you’re likely to meet.” She shot a virulent look at Mack. Ruth had never approved of Mack. “And he loves you.”
“Does he?” Suzie asked dully. Were a few chaste kisses a measure of a man’s love? Had she ever truly loved him? Or had she simply been dazzled by his golden looks and comforted by the thought of a calm, secure future?
“Well, what are you going to do?” her mother wailed. “Everyone is down there waiting for you, dear. All those cameras and fashion experts…all desperate to see your bridal gown and to feature your wedding day in their magazines. And Jolie Fashions are relying on you, darling, for the publicity. For their survival!”
“And what about all the food and champagne?” Lucy piped up. “You can’t waste it!”
Suzie’s head was spinning. The dream she’d thought so unreal had turned into a nightmare that was only too real.
