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MAEVE
The sea of white and ivory threatened to drown me.
Enormous racks of tulle and silk and lace and taffeta surrounded me, towering overhead like great white ghouls. I wanted desperately to burn it all to the ground, so that I didn’t have to go through with trying them on.
Wedding dress shopping was supposed to be exciting, but the bubbling in my stomach made me want to puke.
A sprightly woman practically bounced her way over to me, holding two glasses of champagne. She passed one to Katie, who took it with a strained smile. I stared at the pale, golden liquid, then shook my head. I didn’t need it reappearing in a sea of bubbling vomit over a dress.
Logan had insisted that I had to attend this little shopping soiree with my soon to be sister-in-law, though he was no happier about it than I. My pleading to just have them pick something fell on deaf ears. The threat of another of Mac’s fingers from Harold had ensured I had attended in the end.
Katie walked across to a rack and ran a hand across the varying materials. She kept stealing small glances my way between shaky sips of her champagne. Had they had forced her into attending as well?
‘Right,’ said the sales assistant, ‘What would you like to try on? Is there a style you’ve fallen in love with? Something you’ve spotted and dreamed about wearing.’
‘I don’t care.’ My voice was more hollow than I’d meant it to be, but I had no intention of playing the smitten bride.
The woman’s brow furrowed as she looked at Katie, then back to me. ‘There must be something you want to try? Perhaps some lace?’
‘Honestly, I don’t care. Just pick a dress and I’ll wear it.’
‘Is there a budget you’d like to stick to?’
I shrugged, but Katie spoke up. ‘No budget, whatever Maeve wants.’
The woman gave me another perturbed look before nodding. ‘How about you two have a look around and I’ll go pick out a few of my favourites from the storage rooms?’
I slumped onto one of the sparkly, uncomfortable sofas and stared up at the ceiling.
‘I think you’d knock them out in something like this.’ Katie held up a dress much like the one I’d worn at the party, but in an ivory silk.
‘Why are you here?’
Katie stiffened with the dress draped over one arm, the other sifting through the rack.
‘I thought it might be nice to meet you properly before the wedding.’
‘Why do you care? Don’t you hate me?’
‘I don’t even know you.’
I laughed. ‘As if that matters when you are from our families. Hate is a game the whole family get’s to play together. Has to play together.’
‘My father has enough hate to go round.’ There was a deep sadness in her voice, which caught me off guard. Shit, maybe she really didn’t hate me.
I sat up in the chair and inspected Katie Thompson. She was shorter than me, and curvier. Her hair was a red so dark that I couldn’t decide whether it came from a bottle. She was fair and freckled, though, so chances are that the red was real at some level. Cameron wasn’t a redhead, and neither was Harold. Did she take after her mother? Katie held herself as though she were desperately trying to make herself as insignificant as possible. Her father was one of the richest men in Scotland, if rumours were to be believed, yet she didn’t have the confidence of someone who grew up with anything she pleased.
‘You know I don’t want to marry Cameron, right?’
‘I do.’
‘So why pretend like this is normal? Why play act?’
‘Because you still deserve to feel beautiful. And you need to go into the ceremony acting like you own every single man there, no matter how terrified or angry you are. My father will exploit any weakness he finds. You need to show him none.’ She picked up a princess style tulle dress, and I shook my head. ‘Plus, Cam isn’t so bad. Not underneath. Maybe you won’t hate him.’
‘I hate him. Does he share your feelings about me?’
Katie hesitated before shaking her head. ‘No, he doesn’t. He’s mad about being forced to marry you.’
