“I’m afraid not.” His answer was crisp. “You’re not happy. That’s obvious. You need a man who can set you alight. Do you think I haven’t seen you incandescent? Women are such strange creatures. I’ll never understand them.” He said it like it might have been a curse.
Forlornly, Genevieve touched the exquisitely decorated bodice of her wedding gown. “Why did you never tell me you were paying for all this?”
He closed his eyes against the surge of hot anger. “I wish to God your mother could keep her mouth shut.”
“I feel seared by shame.”
“How ridiculous!” He sounded thoroughly stirred up. “You’re family.” God, that’s wrong. For a moment he couldn’t speak. Then as he glanced out the window he was shocked to see they had arrived at the church. Media photographers were in attendance, standing slightly apart from the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to see a bride well known to them through the social pages.
The bronze-polished skin on Blaine’s face was stretched taut. “I’m not the kindest person in the world, Genni, but I’m here for you.” His expression suggested only one word. Action. “Unless you’re going happily into this, it would be better, far better, to stop it now.”
For a moment hope glimmered, then she heard the oohs and aahs of the crowd. “For God’s sake, Blaine, I’d be a social outcast. Help me to go through with it.”
“Are you crazy?” He could crush her to him with one arm. Drag her away.
“Yes.” She was finished and she knew it. Her mind reeled as the chauffeur came round to open her door. She could see her old life slide by. People were moving closer, waving and smiling, the photographers already shooting their pictures.
Please God help me, she prayed devoutly. Help me out before it’s too late. I know I deserve this but I truly didn’t understand my own heart.
That same heart bursting, Genevieve found herself standing out on the footpath to much applause while the designer of her gown fussed around her, settling her billowing silk skirt, adjusting her long froth of a veil.
“Isn’t she beautiful!” came time and again from the crowd, but Genni didn’t register the compliments. She felt she had the weight of the world on her shoulders instead of her wedding veil.
“Well?” Blaine gave her his arm, hovering over her inches over six feet, devastatingly handsome, the man who was to give her away, but the expression in his shimmering eyes was anything but family.
I’ll love you always. Had she spoken it or thought it?
Only she had not known, had not understood that love at all.
What was going on here? Warren Maitland, the dress designer, thought in amazement. He simply couldn’t imagine but his gown, his creation was gorgeous. So was the bride who looked like she mistook the cousin, the man who was to give her away, for the bridegroom. Maitland didn’t believe any girl could look at a man like that and not be madly in love with him. In that moment, a trained observer, he sensed major scandal looming.
As if under a spell Genni found herself walking into the wonderfully picturesque old church, leaning into Blaine and on his arm. Where their flesh touched, it burned. It all had the quality of a dream to her. She could hear the music, the emotive swell of the organ; she could see her bridesmaids just inside the church. The elegantly dressed guests seated in the pews, so many of them, some had jetted in from overseas. Oh, God, for what? The pews were decorated with white satin ribbons. The altar luminous with white roses. Colin was waiting up there. Colin and his friends. She breathed and breathed, but she couldn’t get enough air. She was going away…fainting…in front of her eyes a field of stars. The last thing she heard was Blaine saying her name…
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