Sophie Pembroke - His Very Convenient Bride

Thomas, with a weary sigh, lowered himself into an armchair at the edge of the hallway. ‘I suppose we should have known. It’s not like she didn’t have form. I wonder where they are now.’ He stared out of the open front door as he spoke and Helena couldn’t help but follow his gaze.

‘Zeke and Thea?’ Isabella asked. ‘God only knows. Probably off somewhere trying to find new ways to destroy our family.’

‘They were in love,’ Helena said, without even realising she planned to say it. ‘They wanted to be together. And we thought...well, we thought this was the best option. Flynn and I.’ She reached for him blindly, relieved when Flynn grabbed her hand and held it tight.

‘We did,’ he agreed. ‘Still do, actually.’

Isabella studied her so intently that Helena stared at her toes to avoid her gaze. Her pedicure was the exact same colour as her shoes, she realised with pleasure. She almost wanted to point it out to her mother-in-law, to prove that she was good at details, too.

‘Maybe you were right,’ Isabella said finally. ‘It might all be for the best. At least you’re less likely to make a dramatic scene than your sister. If it hadn’t been for Thea’s place in the company...well, I might have suggested to Ezekiel that he pick you for Flynn instead. I said as much to Thea, actually. So I suppose she knew she had a stand-in, if she needed it.’

‘Mother,’ Flynn said, the hint of warning in his voice enough to make Isabella stop talking.

But it couldn’t stop the icy fingers that crept up the back of Helena’s neck at her words. She tugged her hand free from Flynn’s. It wasn’t just Isabella making it perfectly clear that Helena was second choice, a last resort. She already knew that, thanks. But had Thea really known what would happen? Helena thought not. But it seemed, however cross Ezekiel might be, Isabella wasn’t too disappointed with this turn of events. Why would she be? She got a docile, eager to please wife for her son. Flynn had probably been overjoyed when she’d suggested it.

Except, of course, he knew that it was potentially only temporary. Isabella didn’t.

But it was only a matter of time before she found out.

* * *

Flynn’s hand felt suddenly cold without Helena’s in it. Curse his mother. Wasn’t it enough that he had to know that he was an unfortunate backup plan without her driving it home that his new bride was in exactly the same position?

It was time to get the focus back where it belonged—on their marriage, rather than the one that hadn’t happened.

‘Is that all the guests in?’ he asked.

‘Finally, yes,’ Helena said with a small hint of a smile, as if she knew what he was trying to do.

‘God only knows how much wine they’ll have got through already.’ Isabella tucked her hand through Thomas’s arm. ‘We’ll go in and take our seats, then the steward can come and announce you. Is your father coming back?’ The last part was added almost as an afterthought, Flynn realised. While Ezekiel might believe this whole day was all about him and his company, as far as Isabella was concerned, this was a social occasion presided over by herself and Thomas. The man she’d never quite left her husband for, but who was more of a husband to her anyway.

Wow, his family was screwed up.

‘I’m sure he’ll come through eventually,’ Flynn said, even though Ezekiel hadn’t even mentioned he was leaving, let alone returning to the festivities. It would be just like his father to spite them all after having his plans meddled with. Flynn was pretty certain that, actually, Ezekiel would be perfectly content with Helena as a daughter-in-law. It was just the fact that he hadn’t been consulted, or had the final say in the matter, that rankled the old man.

Thomas and Isabella made their way through to the dining room and, rather suddenly, Flynn was alone with his wife for the first time since they’d decided to go through with the marriage. No, not the marriage. That still hadn’t been decided, and wouldn’t be until they had a document rather more legally binding than a scrawled-on invitation with the wrong name on the front. The wedding, then. That much, at least, they had certainly gone through with.

That much had paperwork.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said apologetically. ‘You know my mother.’

‘Rather too well,’ Helena agreed, and he couldn’t help but smile.

‘Yes, well. How did you cope with your first official event as an Ashton—the receiving line, I mean? It seemed to go pretty smoothly to me.’

‘Yeah, it was fine, mostly. There were a couple of extra-nosy people asking about Zeke—not Thea, of course, that would be too obvious. Your mother and I put them off, for now anyway.’ She sighed. ‘Although I dread to think what sort of questions they’ll be ready to ask after a few too many glasses of champagne.’

She was right, Flynn realised. Sheer politeness might have stopped the bulk of the comments and observations in the church itself, but once the speeches were over all bets would be off.

Which meant the speeches would have to be something quite spectacular, to give them something else to talk about. Or something else to believe, about the way this day had gone.

‘We have to change the story,’ he said, and Helena’s smile turned awkward.

‘You got that from Thea,’ she said when he raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s one of her big PR phrases.’

‘Well, it applies today. We need to change people’s perceptions of what happened here today.’ And quickly, since he could already see the steward coming to fetch them.

‘Like the fact you married the wrong woman?’

‘Exactly that.’

The steward moved to open the door and Helena grabbed Flynn’s arm as she slipped her slim feet back into those bright pink shoes.

‘Any idea how?’ she murmured, as the dining room doors opened and the steward stepped through.

‘One or two,’ Flynn muttered back.

‘Like?’

But then the steward was announcing them as Mr and Mrs Flynn Ashton, and the show was on again. Helena would just have to wait and see. Flynn smiled to himself. Fixing this could be his wedding present to her.

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