Aftermath (Dividing Line #6) (4 page)

“Someone’s wide awake,” she said when she felt him pressing against her.

“Yes and I’ve no way to relieve it.”

“Poor baby.”

“It’s going to take me hours to get to sleep.”

“You’ll manage.”

“You’re cruel.”

She gave a languid smile.

“I hope tomorrow goes off without a hitch,” he said.

Her eyes opened. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“It’s a Maguire do. They never go smoothly.”

Rachel thought of her wedding day to Danny when his cousin Jake had tried to stab her with a broken bottle, Frank’s funeral when Danny got into a fight with Ryan over her and the fallout with Alex at Martina’s funeral.

“You’re right.”

He propped himself up on one elbow so he could see her face. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have kept my big mouth shut. Everything will be fine tomorrow. The worst that can happen is Amber loses the plot and has a huge tantrum. We’re far away from any trouble up here in the highlands.”

“Glasgow’s not too far away and there are still plenty of McVay’s kicking about.”

He hugged her tight and she turned over to nuzzle her face into his bare chest.

“Everything will be fine, honestly,” he soothed, running his fingers through her hair, cursing himself for an idiot. After the nightmare Alex Maguire had put them through they were still getting back to normal. She needed to feel safe again and she’d just been getting there until he’d opened his mouth and stuck his great big foot in it. Rachel had an astonishing inner strength but that didn’t stop the bad dreams, the horrific memories. Sometimes he caught her glancing over her shoulder, eyes clouded with fear, convinced someone was watching her. She would realise she’d been caught out then smile, dispersing the shadow hanging over her but he knew it was still there, that awful dark thing Alex and his psychosis had planted there. She’d started to beat all that and his stupid thoughtless comment had set her back. He just hoped Rick was wrong and by coming here they hadn’t placed themselves in danger.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered into her hair. “We’re due a break.”

She nodded into his chest, nestling in closer and his arms engulfed her, protecting her from the world. He held her this way until he felt her relax, heard her breathing slow as she drifted off to sleep. Only then did he allow his grip to loosen, laying awake for a while to watch over her, for some indefinable reason afraid to end his vigil until his eyes grew heavy and he too was fast asleep.

CHAPTER 5

Rachel left Ryan with his brothers after enjoying a late breakfast to join Amber and Cathy in the bridal suite to prepare. The only problem was she took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up completely lost, wandering about on the second floor of the castle, passing a bewildering array of doors, none of which announced they were the bridal suite with a helpful little sign.

“Can I help you?”

Rachel whirled round to see a tall man with thick jet black hair and stormy dark eyes frowning at her. She had to tilt her head up to look him in the face. Big. Very big. He wore black trousers and a white shirt open at the neck. A waiter or porter or something, she assumed.

“I’m lost,” she replied.

When he saw her beauty his frown fell away. “Yes you are. These are the private quarters,” he said in a strong Scottish lilt.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how I ended up here. I’m with the Maguire wedding party and I’m supposed to be at the bride’s suite right now helping her get ready.”

“It’s easy to get lost here, it’s a big place. I’ll escort you. The laird gets upset when members of the public find their way into this wing, although I’m sure he’d make an exception for you.” His smile made his eyes twinkle. “Still, better safe than sorry. Let’s get you out of here before he sees you.”

To her surprise he took her arm and steered her back the way she’d come.

“So, are you the bride?” he said.

“No, maid of honour.”

“You’re married then?”

“I am.”

“Shame,” he grinned. “My name’s Thane.”

“That’s a fabulous name.”

“I like it. What’s yours?”

“Rachel.”

“Where are you from Rachel?”

“Devon.”

“That doesn’t sound like a Devonshire accent.”

“It’s not. I’m originally from Manchester.”

They chatted pleasantly as they walked, Thane pointing out objects of interest on the way, giving her some of the grisly history of the castle.

“I wish you hadn’t told me about the ghosts, I won’t sleep tonight,” she said.

“I didn’t think you were the kind of woman who scares easily.”

“You’re a good judge of character.”

“I am. If you’re worried I’d be happy to come to your room. I’d protect you from the bad things.”

“I’m sure you would but I don’t think my husband would approve.”

“Husband. What a waste. Here we are,” he said, stopping outside a door.

“Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”

“No doubt I’ll bump into you again Rachel. I just hope we get more time together before you leave.”

As she smiled up at the big charming Scotsman the door opened to reveal Amber, hair in curlers, wrapped in a dressing gown. “Rachel. Thank God, I need you,” she said before grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.

Thane found the door closed in his face and he shrugged before wandering back down the corridor, hands in his pockets, whistling.

“Amber, calm down,” said Rachel.

The normally sweet, quiet girl was in a flap, big green eyes wide with panic. “The make-up girl hasn’t arrived. She was supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“She’s had a car accident so she won’t be able to make it,” said Cathy, ready to go in her emerald green bridesmaid’s dress, blond hair twisted into a bun. She pressed a button on her mobile phone, ending the call. “Nothing too serious but her arm’s in a sling.”

“Which means she can’t work. Beth hasn’t turned up yet, she’s stuck in traffic in Aberdeen. I told her not to go through the city, she should have gone round it. What do I do?” exclaimed Amber.

“Calm down, it’s no problem. Cathy can do your make-up, she’s really good at it.”

“Course I can,” replied Cathy.

“But the make-up artist had a special machine to spray the foundation on. My skin’s going to look awful without it,” retorted Amber, on the verge of tears.

“Your skin’s gorgeous, you don’t even need foundation,” said Rachel.

“What if I’m one bridesmaid short?”

“Beth will be here, she won’t let you down. Now calm down or you’ll be all red and puffy. Slow deep breaths.”

Amber inhaled deeply before releasing a long shaky breath, Rachel’s confidence that everything would be okay soothing her.

“Better?”

Amber nodded. “A little.”

“Cathy’s a whiz with make-up. While she does that I’ll get changed. Then your hair can be finished and we can finally get you in your dress. We’ll be ready to go in plenty of time and everything will be perfect, I promise.”

Amber took in another deep, shuddering breath, the mania in her eyes vanishing. “Okay. Sorry for being an idiot.”

“It’s alright, we all know how nerve-wracking it can be.”

“Have a glass of champers, it’ll calm you down,” said Amber’s mum, Joyce, who was sitting in a chair by the window with a glass in hand. The woman mildly irritated Rachel at the best of times but now she made her angry. Why wasn’t she comforting her daughter? A woman needed her mum on her wedding day.

“Britney, you look lovely,” said Rachel, smiling at the third bridesmaid in the room.

“Oh, thanks,” she replied nervously, patting her bleached blond hair with a slightly shaky hand.

Britney had been a good friend of Amber’s since they were little, they’d grown up on the same estate together, just like Rachel and Beth. However Britney was a nervous girl who was overwhelmed by the luxurious surroundings and the company she was in. Rachel had met her before and knew she made her uncomfortable so she went out of her way to be nice to her, which only seemed to worsen the situation. Rachel hated it when people reacted to her like this, although she could fully understand why, her reputation was formidable, but Britney acted as though she could hurt her. She wished people would understand that she only attacked when she was threatened first, she wasn’t a psychopath.

Beth’s car ground to a halt outside the castle, tyres hungrily munching up the gravel. She got out of the car, threw the keys at a parking attendant, grabbed her bags and raced up the steps into reception.

“Oh crap,” she cried, her heel catching on the top step, sending her stumbling inside, her bags scattering across the floor. She fell face down, fortunately landing on the thick rug that had been spread over the hard stone floor. “Ow.”

She found herself staring at a large pair of feet encased in brand new black leather shoes.

“You’re looking well Beth.”

She blushed furiously. “Hello Riley.” She hadn’t seen him in six months but she could still identify his voice without even seeing his face. “Bloody heels.”

Strong hands grasped her under the arms and gently hauled her upright. Her feet found terra firma and she flushed even more when she found herself staring up into his face, which was so like Ryan’s except his eyes were brown. But she didn’t see Ryan, only him. She’d thought about him a lot in the last six months, the e-mails they’d exchanged a lifeline to her.

“It’s nice to see you again,” she said shyly. “You look really good.” He looked incredible in his tuxedo.

“And you.” His eyes swept over her, taking her in and his body relaxed, as though it had finally got a fix it so desperately needed.

“I…I’m late,” she said, embarrassed after her fall. It was typical of her luck to make a complete idiot of herself in front of him. “I need the bridal suite, I have to get changed…my bags…”

“Which room are you in?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Tell you what, you go up to the bridal suite and get ready. I’ll make sure all your things get to your room.”

Beth smiled. Ever since they’d met he’d looked out for her. “Thanks Riley.”

“You’re welcome.”

Briefly he pressed his hand to the top of hers before he started gathering up her dropped bags. Beth picked up her handbag and vanity case before hurrying for the stairs, pausing to look back at him over her shoulder, admiring his backside as he bent to retrieve her suitcase. He caught her looking and Beth hurried on her way, cringing when she tripped over the top step.

Rachel swept back into the room after changing into the slinky emerald green silk dress, make-up perfect and hair straightened within an inch of its life. Cathy had finished Amber’s make-up and the hairdresser was removing the curlers, sending a cascade of red curls down her back. Unfortunately Beth still hadn’t arrived and Amber’s nerves were starting to get the better of her again.

“I’ll call her,” said Rachel, fishing her mobile phone out of her clutch bag.

“Hi Rach,” said her friend’s exasperated voice. “I’m in the castle, I can’t find the bloody bridal suite. Oh hello.”

Rachel listened to her friend conversing with someone with a lovely deep bass voice, heard Beth’s charmed tinkle of laughter. Thane must have found her. Maybe that was his job, rounding up the guests who got lost.

“I’m here Rach. Some hunky Scotsman gave me directions.” The door opened and Beth walked in with the phone still pressed to her ear.

“Beth,” screeched Amber, throwing her arms around her neck.

“Careful, you nearly knocked me over,” said Beth good-humouredly, hugging her back. “Sorry I’m so late but the traffic was a bloody nightmare around Aberdeen. I knew I should have flown in.”

“It didn’t do Rachel and Ryan much good. They got arrested,” said Amber.

“What?” said Beth, her eyes flicking to her best friend.

“It was nothing serious,” said Rachel. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now you need to get changed.”

“Where’s my dress?”

“In that bedroom there,” said Cathy, indicating a door leading off the suite.

“I’ll be as quick as I can.” She took a step back to admire Amber. “You look stunning and your hair’s amazing. Very appropriate for a Scottish wedding.”

“Thanks,” smiled Amber. “Now hurry please before the top of my head explodes.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” said Cathy, following Beth into the bedroom.

“Get that down you,” said Rachel, handing Amber a glass of champagne.

“Ta,” she replied, accepting the glass and gulping it down.

“Not too much, you don’t want to get drunk.”

“That’s all I need,” she said, handing the glass back half full. “My nerves feel steadier now.”

“Good. Britney, have you had a glass?” Rachel asked her, deciding to have one last go at putting her at her ease.

“Err, no,” she replied timidly.

“Want one?”

“I…I don’t know,” she stammered.

Rachel poured her a glass and held it out to her with her friendliest smile. “Go on, enjoy yourself.”

“Okay, thank you,” said Britney, taking the glass, thinking it best to do what she wanted.

“I’ll have a top up,” said Joyce, waving her glass at her.

Before Rachel could tell the woman she wasn’t a waitress, Amber interjected.

“You’ve had enough Mum.”

Joyce pouted and put down the glass.

Rachel was astonished. Amber had always been timid around her parents, subservient even. Mikey was so good for her.