managed a small smile, but debated how much to tell Connie. They’d been friends since the day Dawn began volunteering for the Children’s Betterment Society, which Connie had founded. Mother had always dismissed the socialite by saying, “One can drape a hound in jewels and even take it to the ball, but it remains a hound.”
Despite Mother’s opinion, Dawn loved Connie. She laughed too loud, drank too much and wore vulgar clothing, but she had tremendous energy and a generous heart.
Dawn twisted her engagement ring. “I’m not—I mean—I don’t know. I’m not sure if I love him.”
Connie folded her arms, pressing her impressive bosom higher. “This is moving kind of fast. You met him at the Valentine’s Day ball, so that makes it what, four months?”
“It’s not that fast,” Dawn said hesitantly. Quentin swore love at first sight and had proposed three weeks after they met. “I am thirty, and I want children. I don’t have time to waste on a long engagement.”
“Are you asking my advice, opinion, what?”
Knowing only that she didn’t know what she wanted, Dawn considered. “Assurance?”
“All right. Quentin is good-looking and obscenely wealthy. He can charm the socks off a brass statue. He’s funny, bright, and I think your father would have approved.”
“Really?”
Connie chuckled. “One shark always approves of another.”
Not understanding the joke, Dawn peered closely at Connie’s face.
“Oh, please, my darling. Your father was a Great White. He didn’t get where he did by being sweet.” She held up a hand, displaying an impressive number of diamond, sapphire and emerald rings. “Do not get me started on your parents. We’ll both be sorry. We’re discussing Quentin.”
Dawn hung her head. Connie had disliked the Lovells as much they had disliked her. Occasionally she indulged in tirades, calling Edward Lovell a bully with ice in his blood and a stock-market ticker for a brain. Worse, she called Deborah Lovell a stuck-up, snobbish, bluenosed twit without an ounce of compassion. Worst of all, Dawn sometimes secretly agreed.
“Quentin has a lot of energy. He’ll force you to come out of your shell.” She held her hands wide in a gesture of welcome. “Maybe he’ll succeed where I’ve failed and draw you out into the open where you belong. You’ll make beautiful children, to whom I give permission in advance to call me Auntie.”
“Oh, Connie.”
“Oh, my darling, forget these silly jitters.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. “Unless you’d care to postpone this ridiculous wedding in the sticks and let me throw a proper bash for you? I still can’t believe, you’re not inviting anybody. Not even one reporter!”
Dawn sheepishly shrugged. “I have too invited people. Important people.” Her short guest roster included those people who had been especially close to her parents. She and Quentin had argued about including any guests at all, and about having a reception. He claimed anything other than a small, private ceremony would turn into a media circus. She argued that her parents’ friends would be irreparably offended if she failed to hold some kind of celebration. They’d compromised by holding the wedding out of town and keeping the guest list under thirty. “Quentin doesn’t like publicity. I don’t care much for it myself. Besides, considering my age, a huge wedding seems rather—”
“Watch it. I’m a year or two past thirty myself.”
Dawn hid a smile by lowering her face. “The wedding itself doesn’t bother me at all. I find it all very romantic.” Screwing up her courage, she admitted, “It’s another man.”
Connie gasped. When Dawn looked up, she realized it was a delighted gasp.
“I don’t mean it that way! You see, Quentin’s best friend has been my companion this week. He’s been…wonderful.”
Connie tapped her lower lip with a talonlike fingernail.
“We’ve gone hiking and horseback riding. I don’t know how many games of tennis we’ve played. We’ve gone swimming and had picnics. We’ve watched movies. I was reluctant to take this vacation, but now I’m glad I did. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”
“You haven’t.you know?”
“Oh, no! Nothing like that. He’s been a proper gentleman. He’s Quentin’s best friend, after all. I don’t know why he wasn’t at dinner last night, but you’ll meet him at the wedding and I’m sure you’ll agree, he’s very nice.”
“You’re attracted to him.”
She nodded miserably. “I shouldn’t be. He hasn’t a serious thought in his head. Even his own family apologizes for his behavior. We haven’t talked about anything personal, but I gather he doesn’t hold an honest job. I think he’s a professional gambler. He’s rude to his own father. He teases his mother and sisters unmercifully. He has no ambition. He tells outrageous lies, then laughs when he’s caught in them. Altogether an inappropriate man.”
“But you fell in love with him anyway.”
“No!” Dawn closed her eyes. “It’s just that.around Ross I feel, I feel—”
“Pretty? Special?”
“Yes,” Dawn whispered in a sigh. “I feel so guilty and disloyal. What am I to do? I can’t marry Quentin under false pretenses.”
Connie laughed. She grasped Dawn by the shoulders and made her turn around to face a mirror. “Latebreaking news bulletin, my darling, you are both pretty and special.”
Dawn stared wide-eyed at the vision in the mirror. Appliqués of white roses and twining leaves overlaid the sleeveless, fitted bodice. Matching appliques covered the tea-length, scalloped hem, and a pair of embroidered roses fastened the narrow sash. Her hair was upswept into a French twist held by combs festooned with tiny rosebuds; a single strand of pearls encircled her neck. Cosmetics expertly applied by Connie made her eyes large and luminous.
“I think you’re beautiful,” Connie said softly. Her eyes glistened with tears. “My little mouse has blossomed. I wish you were my own daughter.” She snatched a tissue from a box and dabbed at her eyes.
Dawn wondered if Ross saw her this way when he stared so intently at her. She prayed Quentin saw her this way, too.
“Don’t worry about being attracted to another man. Despite your mother’s best efforts, you’re a perfectly normal young woman. It’s only natural to get the hots over a hunky man.”
Dawn frowned at Connie’s reflection in the mirror.
A soft knock on the door caused both women to turn. Dawn steadied herself with a deep breath. “The car must be here. I’m ready.”
Moving toward the door, Connie asked, “Are you sure? There’s still time to back out.”
Dawn clasped her trembling hands over her fluttering stomach. “Marrying Quentin is the right thing.”
“Good.” She opened the
