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Nicola had been as good as her word, taking her on a whirlwind tour of more boutiques and small designer shops than Dana had known existed, and firmly refusing to listen to her ‘no honeymoon’ excuses.
‘If he’s going to be away, all the more reason to welcome him back in something glamorous,’ she’d ordained sternly.
So Dana had capitulated, albeit reluctantly. But she had to admit, after years of strict budgeting, it was fun to splurge on the kind of clothes she’d never expected to afford, let alone wear.
Her wedding dress had been her first purchase. She’d noticed it at once, half hidden in an array of glittering evening wear, catching her breath as she lifted it from the rail.
It was a simple slip of a dress, figure-skimming but beautifully cut, with a low square bodice and cap sleeves, and the moment she’d tried it on, she knew it was the one.
She’d stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, seeing a girl with flushed cheeks and eyes alight with excitement. And for an instant had allowed herself to wonder how Zac would see her. What he would think.
Well, she now had the answer to that, which was—very little. His face as she entered the wedding room had been expressionless. She’d thanked him haltingly for the exquisite bouquet of cream roses he’d sent her and he’d simply replied, ‘Di niente,’ then turned to the registrar, who was waiting to begin.
After they’d exchanged vows, he’d bent and brushed her mouth with his, so lightly and formally that it was hardly a kiss at all.
Over the lunch at the Ritz with Nic and Eddie which followed, he’d been a faultlessly charming host. But now they were alone, they’d shared a well nigh silent journey.
Perhaps it had occurred to him that this hasty marriage might not be the best idea he’d ever had, Dana thought, her throat tightening in sudden, sharp desolation. And if so, what would she do? Or rather, she amended hastily, what would happen to Mannion?
But if he’d changed his mind about their bargain, he’d had plenty of time to say so prior to the wedding. Especially as they’d already had what almost amounted to their first quarrel when Dana had learned he intended them to occupy the great master bedroom.
‘You decided this without asking me?’ she’d flung at him. ‘When there are so many other rooms? Why that one?’
‘Because it is the master bedroom,’ he’d returned coldly. ‘And, like it or not, Dana mia, I mean to be the master.’
He’d studied her flushed, mutinous face. ‘Or do you anticipate finding Adam’s shadow falling across our bed? It will not, I promise you.’
Her colour had deepened not with guilt but annoyance. Because, she realised bitterly, a simple denial that Adam, now safely in Australia, had ever entered her mind would sound as lame as the actual truth—that she’d never liked the room with its massive four-poster bed and deep crimson wallpaper, even when it was occupied by Serafina. That she’d always found it gloomy and oppressive.
But he hadn’t consulted her. So much for the house being her domain, she thought biting her lip. Whatever decisions she might make, Zac would always have the power to overrule her.
My master too, she’d thought angrily. In every way.
And when she spoke, her tone was curt, disguising the fact that her throat had closed in panic. ‘Think what you like.’
She knew that he too was angry, and their parting that evening had been cool.
And there’d been no sign since that he’d rethought his decision.
For the first time, her usual sense of excitement when she saw Mannion from the top of the hill was replaced by apprehension.
When they reached the drive, she could see a team of men working in the garden, which was almost back to its old pristine condition. Mr Godstow, now retired, would have been proud, she thought.
Zac parked the car at the main entrance and came round to open the passenger door, handing Dana her bouquet from the back seat.
The door was standing open and Dana could see Mrs Harris waiting in the hall to greet them. But she’d hardly taken a step when Zac swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold into the house.
On the point of struggling, Dana remembered just in time that they had an audience.
She was aware too of Zac whispering something in her ear before he set her on her feet but she was too unnerved by finding herself held so closely to make out what he’d said.
Mrs Harris stepped forward. ‘It’s very good to see you, sir, and you, madam,’ she said. ‘All the work you requested has been done, and I hope you’ll find it satisfactory. May I say, also, that I wish you and Mrs Belisandro every happiness.’
