honey-blonde, who walked into Angel’s dressing room “the size of a department store with twice as much merchandise” as Tiffany had confided to her mother and emerged holding Genni’s gown aloft.
“Here comes the bride,” Tiffany tried to speak playfully but she, too, was perturbed by the look in her friend’s eyes, so poignant it was painful to behold. It couldn’t just be nerves. Genevieve looked very much like she didn’t want to get married. Not to Colin Garrett anyway despite the fact many women including Tiffany herself found Colin very attractive.
“Wow!” Montana gave a mesmerized gasp as the others crowded around. “It’s so beautiful it takes my breath away.”
“Me, too!” Astrid agreed, visibly affected. Five times a bridesmaid, she was starting to feel like she was being passed over. But what a gorgeous creation was this gown! Thousands of seed pearls, tiny rhinestones and crystals glimmered on the tight-fitting off-the-shoulder ivory silk bodice, an exquisite pattern that was repeated around the hem of the beautiful billowing skirt.
“I can’t wait to see you in it, Genni.” Astrid, her shiny dark hair gathered into a deep upturned roll at the nape, looked towards her friend. “It’s so absolutely you. I have to see you in it. Come on. You’re so nervy you’re turning me white.”
Genevieve managed to laugh as she always laughed at her friend Astrid. “It seems to me I’m giving my life away.”
Obediently she lifted her long slender legs exquisitely shod in handmade satin courts, stepping into her gown and standing perfectly still while her mother made short work of the long zipper in the back.
“Good God, Genni you’ve got terribly thin,” Angel protested, giving an exasperated sigh. “The waistline could do with another tuck.”
“It’s all right,” Genni insisted, edging away quietly. “Don’t fuss, Angel. I want no fuss.”
“All right, my darling. All right.” Angel trilled, adopting a rare motherly tone to counteract Tiffany’s look of veiled censure. Cheek of the girl! Someone should remind her of her manners. Angel continued to stare into her daughter’s face, feeling a cold wave of panic.
Genevieve had tried to open her heart to her but she hadn’t wanted to listen. Still didn’t for that matter. She was so bloody desperate to get Genevieve married off to the right man. Someone who knew how to respect a beautiful mother-in-law and shower her with gifts. But under the silky golden tan she always had in summer Genni was very pale, her violet eyes so huge they dominated her small face. They seemed to be the only colour about her. Maybe her lipstick, in a luminous frosted rose, needed a heavier application, a touch more blusher? Angel concentrated hard.
“Now the veil!” Montana, the only one not feeling the tension or misinterpreting it as normal bridal jitters approached carrying the full-length tulle veil tenderly over her arm. The headpiece of three exquisite full-blown silk roses, pink and cream with touches of gold was already set in place. Genni was wearing her hair long and loose, the natural curl exaggerated by her hairdresser to suit the romantic conception.
“All right, sweetie?” Montana, very pretty with short caramel-coloured hair, looked at her friend carefully. A number of expressions flitted across Genevieve’s face. Enough to suddenly make warning bells go off in Montana’s head. Colin was very rich, a lot of fun, but admittedly he couldn’t hold a candle to someone like…someone like…well, someone like Genevieve’s cousin, for instance, Blaine Courtland, the big cattle baron. But he was family, the man who was giving Genevieve away. The man due to arrive in about ten minutes at the house.
“Genni’s a bit stressed.” Angel threw her daughter a bracing look. “Big weddings are always like this.” Together she and Montana adjusted the full-length two-tiered tulle veil edged with the finest band of crystals.
“You look truly beautiful, Genni. You bring tears to my eyes.” Montana very gently kissed her friend’s cheek. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. One thing’s certain, Colin will always make you laugh. If he hadn’t fallen in love with you I’d have been after him myself.”
“You were after him, darling,” Astrid slipped in somewhat tartly.
Montana snorted in self-derision. “With Genni around I didn’t stand a chance.”
“Hold up your head, Genni!” clucked Angel, looking absolutely delicious not to say saucy in a light-as-air, sheer-as-silk aquamarine chiffon with swirls of gold and a colourmatched confection on her head that looked like some fabulous intergalactic butterfly had landed. “And do please try to smile.”
Genevieve wasn’t sure she could. Conflicting emotions were threatening to overthrow her and she was starting to feel stomach cramps. On one level she couldn’t bear to be the cause of a dreadful scandal, the gossip columns would outdo each other in their efforts to blame her. Mention would be made of her notoriously fickle mother. She couldn’t bear to bring pain and humiliation to the perennially light-hearted Colin. He trusted her. He wanted her. She wasn’t absolutely sure he loved her. He certainly hadn’t shown her an excess of passion. She knew that now.
He didn’t like the way she was embroiled in the art scene, either. He gave no sign he was interested in her artistic talent, or indeed any artistic talent at all. She’d once dropped the name Jason Pollock into the conversation and Colin thought he was a property developer. His father, George Garrett, was certain to go ballistic. Even now she could hear his great booming voice in her ears, but George Garrett was the least of her worries.
She felt such a fool. Yes, fool was the right word. And one she had to live with. A fool nursing pure loss.
Blaine, as always, was right. She only wished to God he had never kissed her. Before that it had been so easy to hide from herself. Now she felt thoroughly exposed for what she was, a woman prepared to go through with a marriage because the groom had been extremely nice to her. Of course that could be attributed to the emotional deprivation of her childhood. How could she ever have imagined she was in love with Colin?
She was beginning to wonder if she even knew what love was. Overnight she’d turned into a different woman. She knew the why and when. That was when she should have found the courage to act instead of waiting until three hundred guests had put on their wedding finery and left for the church. She either had to go through with it to avoid a terrible mess or lock herself in her bedroom and refuse to come out. If only she could have spoken to Blaine last night. She had so desperately wanted to.
Weeping inwardly, she realised she had to summon up the strength to wipe Blaine from her mind. Blaine had his own life. His marriage to Sally was coming closer, as Hilary had confided. Genevieve just knew she couldn’t bear to be around when that happened. Blaine was lost to her. The very thought got her moving. An action that had Angel muttering a short prayer of gratitude.
“Party time!” she cried. “I’m not sure if you’re not the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Some people have all the luck,” Astrid murmured in an aside to Tiffany, which wasn’t exactly the most appropriate response.
“Well, let’s get moving people.” Angel clapped a little sharply. Exquisitely fashioned at a scant five-feet-nothing, Angel was nevertheless temperamental, demanding, something of a bully as Emmy could and did attest. “You look gorgeous, all of you,” she cooed, revelling in her soon to be new status of adored mother-in-law. “One final inspection before you go out the door. I can’t believe the big day has finally arrived.”
Floating down the
