Accidental Engagement (19 page)

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Authors: Cally Green

BOOK: Accidental Engagement
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‘Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. It must have been awful for you,’ said Emmy sympathetically.

‘I had my suspicions,’ said Claire shrewdly from the other side of the room, where she was busy doing a crossword puzzle.

‘Now, Claire, you’re just saying that!’ Emmy declared. ‘If you’d really had any suspicions you’d have said something. You wouldn’t have kept them to yourself.’

‘I might have done. If I’d had my reasons.’

‘That’s very enigmatic,’ said Mark.

‘Is it, now?’ Claire’s eyebrows rose. ‘No more enigmatic than you claiming you had a non-existent fiancée.’

‘Ouch!’ said Mark. ‘I deserved that.’

Claire turned to Anna. ‘Well, I for one am glad the mistake was made. If it hadn’t been, we’d never have had a chance to get to know you. And furthermore I’m glad you're staying for the rest of the summer.’

‘So am I,’ Anna smiled. She was happy to be close to Mark, and although still cautious she was looking forward to spending more time in his company and getting to know him properly, with no misunderstandings in the way.

‘And of course you must stay for Mark’s party.’

‘Emmy!’ Claire was outraged that her sister had let the cat out of the bag.

‘Oh, don’t sound so horrified,’ said Emmy, making Anna delighted that, for once, the sweet-natured Emmy was standing up for herself. ‘I’m not giving anything away. Well, not really. Of course Mark’s guessed we’re arranging him a party. We wouldn’t let his thirtieth birthday pass without doing something special, and he knows it.’

‘He does now,’ remarked Claire with asperity.

But Emmy was unrepentant. She turned to Anna. ‘It will make it even better now that you’re here,’ she said to Anna. ‘You’re just what we need to make it complete.’

 

The following weeks were glorious. Once the
Midlands
branch of Raynor Enterprises was up and running Mark devoted himself to Anna. Picnics and outings and quiet days in were complemented by two weeks in
London
, spent shopping, sightseeing and taking in the shows. Whilst in
London
they stayed in Mark’s penthouse apartment, which made a convenient base for all their many activities. An apartment in
London
for living purposes and one in
Nottingham
for times when he wanted to visit the city without the constant social round his visits to Little Brook entailed, Mark explained.

Anna smiled as she remembered how suspicious she had been of his
Nottingham
flat.
But suspicions were behind her now. As she came to know Mark more deeply, the more she came to love him. But she still dare not let herself believe that he was in love with her. She could tell that he delighted in her company, and he had said he wanted her as his wife,
but he had never once kissed her since they had returned to Little Brook. On occasion, she had been tempted to initiate lovemaking herself, but something held her back. She needed to know, needed to be sure, needed to hear him say those three words that would still her dwindling doubts for ever and make her happiness complete . . .

 

‘So that’s where it all began,’ said Mark.

They had been for a walk, making the most of the balmy September evening, and had returned via the road. The dangerous bend was looking deceptively innocent in the soft evening light. ‘An accidental meeting, an accidental engagement.’ He held her hand more tightly and they walked on, back through the gates of Little Brook and through the beautiful gardens. ‘Anna . . .

He stopped, turning her to face him and searching her face for some sign of encouragement.

She felt her heart stand still. Her beautiful eyes opened wide.

‘Anna, I want to make that engagement real. You know how I feel about you. Now I need to know: will you ever be able to trust me?’

‘I already do.’

He gave a warm smile.

‘I never really doubted it,’ she said. ‘Oh, I know you deceived me about who I really was, but at the same time, in all the important ways, you were always there for me. When Elizabeth and Serena tried to put me down you stood up for me. And when I was feeling lost, lonely and afraid you were my tower of strength. How I’d have managed without you I don’t know. And when Darren -’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he said, softly kissing the top of her head. ‘Then what do you say?’ he asked, putting her gently away from him so that he could see her face. ‘Shall we make our engagement real?’

‘That depends,’ she said.

‘On what?’ There was a troubled look on his face.

‘On what your feelings are,’ she said. ‘You told me that I must know what you feel for me but that’s not strictly true. You see, you -’

‘Anna, I love you,’ he said, his face breaking into a smile. ‘I adore you.’ He took her face in his hands and kissed her ever so gently on the lips. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Do you love me?’

‘Oh, yes. With all my heart,’ she sighed happily.

‘So,’ he asked, nuzzling her neck, ‘will you marry me?’

‘Yes, Mark.'

And sliding her arms round his neck she returned his kiss.

 

The engagement ring looked as beautiful as it had done the first time she had seen it. It gleamed on Anna’s finger as she stood in the hallway on Mark’s birthday, waiting with him to receive his guests.

How strange it was to think she had believed she could never fit into Mark’s world! Oh, she would never fit into the world of jealousy and back-biting that was a part of the more glamorous side of it, but then, she didn’t want to, and she was pleased to discover that there were many of Mark’s friends - both men and women - who felt the same.

So that, instead of dreading being a joint hostess at such a glittering party, Anna was looking forward to it.

Mark was looking more handsome than anyone had a right to look in a white tuxedo, whilst Anna wore a figure-hugging dress of sea green. She would never have had the confidence to wear a dress like it before she had met Mark, but love had made her blossom and she wore it with panache.

‘At last! It’s taken me half an hour to get this wretched dress to fasten.’ Claire said as she came down the stairs. ‘Oh! You look lovely, my dear,’ she said, catching sight of Anna.

‘Yes, doesn’t she?’ asked Emmy, following her sister down the stairs.

Claire went over to Mark and inspected him, then said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘You’ll do!’

The guests slowly began to arrive. Mark and Anna greeted them together and soon the house was full to overflowing with guests. There were a couple of notable exceptions. Serena, her father explained with embarrassment, could not make the party as she had a cold. And Elizabeth Parks sent word that she couldn’t make it as she was spending the winter in
Biarritz
.

‘They don’t want to see your triumph,’ Mark teased, catching Anna round the waist and leading her into a secluded alcove whilst the party went on around them.

‘This is
your
party, Mark. Your triumph,’ Anna said. ‘To celebrate your birthday and the successful opening of the new branch of Raynor Enterprises.’

‘And to celebrate something else,’ he said, looking into her eyes so deeply that she went weak at the knees.

‘And what might that be?’ she asked breathlessly.

Pulling her roughly towards him he said huskily, ‘This.’ He pushed her long hair back from her face before kissing her sensuously on her lips. And then her neck, her throat . . .

‘You’d better stop now,’ she said as she reluctantly pulled a
way from him. ‘Otherwise . . . ’

‘Otherwise, Mrs Raynor?’

‘I’m not Mrs Raynor yet,’ she reminded him smilingly.

‘But you will be. And that will be the biggest celebration of all.’

EPILOGUE

 

The wedding took place in early December. Under a clear blue sky, the ground covered with snow as white as the icing on her wedding cake, Anna dressed for the occasion.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue
, she thought as she looked at
the items laid out on the bed.

Something old
. She picked up the antique silver bracelet that had been her mother’s, and her grandmother’s before that, and turned it in her hands, her eyes
tracing the exquisite chasing.

Then putting it gently down again she turned to he
r gown.
T
he
velvet dress was
something new
.

Something borrowed
. She patted the white ribbon that was threaded through her pi
led-up hair, on loan from Emmy.

And something blue
. Her white silk stockings, part of a lacy set of underwear, were held up by garters trimmed with blue lace.

‘Do you need any help, dear?’ Emmy called through the door.

‘Not yet,’ she replied. But Emmy’s voice had recalled her to a sense of the time and, picking up her dress, she carefully stepped into it. It had taken her some time to find, but at last she had discovered just what she had been looking for at a small, individual
London
boutique. It was made of fine white velvet, and was perfect for a winter wedding.

She drew the dress up over her hips and arranged the bodice, calling to Emmy for help in fastening it. Instead of a zip, it was closed at the back with small, velvet-covered buttons, and as Emmy’s fingers nimbly pushed the buttons through the
button
-holes the dress took shape. Its neckline was scooped, showing off perfectly the pearl necklace which Mark had bought her as a wedding gift, and the sleeves were capped. The bodice fitted closely whilst the skirt, fitting closely to the hips, then flared out before dropping in rich folds to the floor.

She had wondered what to do about a head-dress, but in the end had decided on a short veil. As she arranged it carefully over her hair she was pleased with her choice. It balanced the shape of her dress and its gauzy texture looked stunning next to her dark hair.

She picked up her bouquet of white roses. ‘Will I do?’ she asked anxiously, struck by last-minute wedding nerves.

‘My dear, you look beautiful,’ said Emmy, before following Anna downstairs.

Mrs Voronowski was waiting in the hall below. The old lady had been delighted when Anna had asked her to be a part of the ceremony. With her father dead and no other relatives, Anna had worried about who would give her away, but Mrs Voronowski had been like family to her and had agreed delightedly to take on that rôle.

Dressed in dark green, the old lady blinked so that her eyes would not mist.


Mein liebling
, you look magnificent.’

Anna saw the same thought mirrored in Mark’s eyes, and more, as not long
afterwards she walked down the aisle and took her place at his side.

The ceremony was beautiful. The music, carefully chosen by Anna, was rich and varied. And when it was over and she walked back down the aisle on Mark
’s
arm, she felt she had never been happier.

At Little Brook once more she and Mark greeted the guests, and Anna felt a surge of pride as she realised that Mark was at last her husband.

Once they had done their duty Mark took her aside. ‘There’s something I want to show you,’ he said. He took her hand and led her towards the drawing-room.

‘Close your eyes,’ he commanded with a smile as they reached the door.

‘Why?’ she asked innocently.

‘It’s a surprise.’

Smiling too, she closed her eyes - to feel his arms slide round her waist and his lips press tenderly against her own.

‘Mmmmm,’ she sighed, as he pulled away from her. ‘My favourite kind.’

He laughed. ‘That wasn’t the surprise. I just couldn’t resist. You, Mrs Raynor, are a sight for sore eyes.’

Anna smiled and lifted her hand to stroke his hair.

‘If you do that, you’ll never see what it is,’ he groaned, pressing her to him once again.

‘Is it really so important?’ she asked him teasingly.

He stepped back, but kept hold of her hand. ‘It’s something you’ll like. Now close your eyes again.’

Laughing, she did as he told her, and he led her into the room.

‘Now open them,’ he said.

She let out a gasp. There, next to the tall windows, was a shining black piano. ‘A Yamaha grand,’ she breathed.

‘A
concert
grand,’ he said.

She laughed. Larger than even a grand, the concert grand was a wonderful instrument. She ran her fingers lovingly over the keys, rejoicing in the clarity of the sound. Unable to resist, she sat on the piano stool and played the Debussy toccata again. So much had happened since she had played it at Serena’s party.

‘Well?’ he asked, watching her with love clearly evident in his eyes.

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