Divided Hearts (18 page)

Hearing her mother’s voice, Hannah appeared from the bedroom where she’d been playing, and scurried over to wrap her arms around Jenna’s legs. “Up, Mama!”

Settling herself on the sofa, Jenna lifted her daughter onto her lap. “Be careful, baby,” she said, prying folds of her veil out of the little girl’s fist. Jenna’s dark locks rested on her shoulders in broad ringlets, drawn up at the sides and fastened at the top of her head to her flowing ivory veil—a striking juxtaposition to the jean shorts and sneakers she wore below. Hannah stared at her mother with wide eyes, enchanted by the exotic headdress.

Faye’s hair was similarly gathered at the crown of her head, a cluster of violets pinned to the comb that held her golden tresses in place.

“Everything seems to be going on schedule,” Jenna remarked, glancing around. Her face glowed, both with excitement and anxiety, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment that all of this fuss was being made in her honour.

“Yes, and the weather is just about perfect, too,” Faye said, glancing out at the patio bathed in warm sunlight.

Setting Hannah on the floor, Jenna reached into her purse. “You’d better hold onto this.” She pressed a white-gold ring into Faye’s palm. “Keep it safe until the ceremony. You know how I lose things.”

“No worries.” Faye lifted her hand to examine the broad, plain band resting in it. The metal was warm and smooth, the loop of gold feeling much heavier than its actual weight, as she envisioned Jenna fitting it onto Simon’s finger—a symbol of their eternal union. Jenna’s ring would be similar, but more slender, designed to nest next to her engagement ring.

Carole rushed out of the kitchen. “There you are,” she said, grasping Jenna’s hand. “Quick, come and sit down, have your lunch.”

“Ugh, I don’t think I could eat anything. My stomach is in knots.” Grimacing, Jenna clutched her abdomen in demonstration. She had looked remarkably relaxed yesterday, all through the rehearsal and dinner, but since waking up this morning had been growing steadily more nervous.

“At least have some soup,” Faye urged, closing her hand around the ring. “We can’t have you passing out in the middle of your vows.”

“I suppose that wouldn’t do. It’d be
so
eighteenth century,” Jenna added with a bright laugh as she rose to her feet.

“Faye, have you eaten?” Carole inquired.

“Yes, I had a sandwich earlier.” She had eaten only a few bites, which was all she could manage, with butterflies circling vigorously in her own stomach.

“I’m sure I can find a can of soup in the cupboard somewhere.” Carole hurried back to the kitchen to search.

“Thanks, Faye,” Jenna said, pulling her into a spontaneous embrace. “I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t believe how everything has changed in the last few months, ever since my accident.”

“Are you happy?” Faye asked as they drew apart. She glanced down at the silver locket already fastened around Jenna’s neck.

“Sure I am.” Jenna said lightly, her gaze drifting away. “It’s normal to be nervous just before you tie the knot, isn’t it? I actually am sort of hungry.”

As Jenna followed her mother into the kitchen, Faye spotted her father in the open doorway, dapper in his gray suit and tie. He glanced around uneasily at the unfamiliar surroundings, a smile lighting his face when he saw Faye.

“I figured this must be the place. I hope I’m not too early,” he said, approaching her.

“No, of course not. We’re just going a little mad here with preparations.”

He glanced around at the profusion of flowers and candles. “This is a lovely setting. A perfect day for it, too.”

“Sure is.”

Her father paused to observe her with concern. Faye could tell what he was thinking. When she told him about Simon and Jenna’s engagement, she had meant to report the news stoically, but had ended up in tears despite her best efforts, pouring out her heartache to his sympathetic ear. He was the only person with whom she’d felt free to share her true feelings.

“I’m fine, Dad,” she said, forestalling any inquiries into her wellbeing. This was Jenna’s day, and Faye’s own fractured emotions would have to remain tucked away until it was over.

Carole strode out of the kitchen again, waving her arm. “Faye, have you got the—oh, excuse me,” she said, noticing Faye’s father there. “Hello, Tom. It’s been a long time. I’m glad you could come.”

He greeted her gallantly with a deep nod of his head. “Nice to see you, Carole. You look wonderful.”

Carole glanced down at her magenta chiffon gown, fitted snugly to her trim figure. The edges of her mouth curled coyly upward. “Thanks. So do you.”

Tom returned her smile, holding his shoulders square as they appraised one another.

“Did you need something, Carole?” Faye asked, glancing between her father and Jenna’s mother with bemused curiosity.

“Did I? Oh, I don’t remember what it was.” Carole tugged anxiously on the string of pearls gracing her neck. Her gaze flitted away, fastening onto something distant over Faye’s shoulder. “I see the musicians have arrived. I’d better show them where to set up. Excuse me.”

As she hurried past to greet the three men hauling stringed instruments through the front door, Tom’s gaze followed her unabashedly. “I don’t remember her looking so … well, I mean, she’s hardly aged at all since I last saw her,” he remarked, absently shifting the knot of his tie, his cheeks uncharacteristically rosy.

“I have to get dressed, Dad,” Faye said, reluctant to leave the scene just as things were getting interesting. “Make yourself at home.”

* * *

Faye emerged from the guest room wearing her lavender taffeta gown, a classic, unadorned style with slender straps and a full skirt. Gliding across the carpet, she delighted in the swish of smooth fabric around her legs; she hadn’t worn a dress this elegant since her prom, and as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a hallway mirror she acquired a sudden, girlish appreciation for Sienna’s preoccupation with dressing like a princess.

Out in the back yard, guests were already milling around, waiting to make their way to the beach for the ceremony. Reverend Hempsall, resplendent in his vestments, was chatting with Laurel and Todd just outside the door.

Faye felt a hand on her elbow and turned to meet Mary’s wide, alarmed gaze. “Where
is
Jenna? She’s supposed to be dressed by now.”

Faye glanced around. “I don’t know where she went. She was having lunch last I saw her.”

“Please find her, Faye,” Mary said, her voice tinged with annoyance. “I’m afraid the whole schedule is going to be thrown off.”

“I need to get Hannah dressed,” Faye told her.

“I’ll take care of that. You go find the bride.”

“Okay, I’ll look around.”

Faye did a quick tour of the ground floor of the house, not finding Jenna anywhere. She took a peek outside, although surely Jenna wouldn’t have allowed the guests to see her before her entrance. Faye didn’t think Jenna would have gone up to the loft, either; climbing stairs was still hard work for her. But then again, maybe she had needed a few minutes alone, and could find no other place in the house that was unoccupied.

Sprinting up the stairs, Faye found Simon’s office empty. “Jenna?” she called out, heading around the corner toward the black grand piano.

She turned, stopping suddenly when she came upon Simon standing by the picture window, looking magnificent in his black suit and ivory brocade vest. Faye had never seen a more handsome groom; she felt her breath leave her lungs in a rush.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Jenna,” she said, her nerves jumping. “Better not have. Bad luck, you know.”

Simon shook his head. “How is she doing?”

“She’s in a panic, like any bride. But once we get her into her gown she’ll be fine. She’s going to look gorgeous. Prepare to have your socks knocked off.”

“They already have been, just now,” he said, his gaze sweeping over Faye’s dress and upward to pause at her bare shoulders, and then rising to study her hair and face. “You look stunning, Faye.”

“Thanks.” Liquid heat bloomed from her chest and travelled upward to suffuse her cheeks. “You don’t look bad yourself. Are you hiding up here until the big moment?”

He nodded. “I’m glad you found me. I was hoping to see you again before the ceremony.”

“I can’t stay,” Faye said quickly, feeling her heart beat a quick, steady rhythm. “The maid of honour has a lot of responsibilities, you know. The bride is missing, and she’s not even dressed yet. At least you’re all set.”

“I thought I was.” One of Simon’s eyebrows lifted as he took a step toward her. “But here I am, minutes away from my wedding, and you come along and … I can’t help but imagine you as my bride.”

Faye shook her head, fighting to draw oxygen into her lungs; all at once she couldn’t quite remember how to breathe. “Don’t say that.”

In one stride he closed the space between them, capturing both of her hands in his. “Tell me whether you feel the same, Faye.”

“Why? What good would it do?” Looking into his eyes, she was startled by the sudden passion glowing in their depths. “This is your wedding day.”

“Tell me. I need to know.”

She felt both hopeless and furious—at Simon, herself, and the situation they found themselves in. She resented him for torturing her this way, but she could not pull away from him; she had yearned so long for his touch that the sensation of his strong, warm fingers curled around her trembling hands quenched the need in her heart like a rainstorm in the desert.

“Yes, I love you so much I’m dying inside,” she admitted at last, struggling to speak as her throat tightened with emotion. “I wish I was marrying you today. But I’m not. I never will be yours, and it tears me apart.” Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, as a deep ache settled in her chest.

“Faye, I’m so sorry.” His lips brushed her face, placing feather-soft kisses next to her eyes and mouth. “It’s killing me, too, loving you so deeply when I can’t have you.”

Letting her eyes fall closed, Faye released a gentle sigh of pleasure and longing, as warm desire danced down her spine and spread through her limbs like lightning.

Needing no further encouragement, Simon gathered her close, his arms sliding around her waist as his mouth settled onto hers. Faye let her hands drift over his shoulders to hold him tightly against her. Submitting to the intoxicating rapture of his kisses, she delighted in the clean, spicy scent of him, and the silky fabric of her dress shifting against her skin as his hands caressed her back. She lost all sense of time and place, forgetting for a moment that the dress she wore was lavender, not white—and the man she held in her arms was about to become another woman’s husband. But the moment was fleeting, and gradually a sickening awareness of their betrayal stole over her.

Breaking this kiss, she eased herself away from him. “Simon, we can’t do this. Not now, and not ever again.”

He held fast to her, his blue eyes dark with hunger. “I just needed to hold you once more before—”

“Before you marry my best friend. You made your choice,” Faye reminded him, queasy at the thought that she was no better than her father’s mistress, wedging herself into the center of a family with the inevitable result of destroying it. “You have to be sure you can stick to this commitment. Not just for Hannah’s sake, but for yours and Jenna’s. And if you’re going to go through with it, don’t you dare hurt Jenna. She’s determined to make this work, and I won’t be the one to tear you away from them.”

Breaking free of his grasp, she grabbed up her skirt in both fists and dashed away from him, rounding the corner into his office.

She stopped abruptly, gasping in surprise. Jenna stood on the landing, holding tight to the banister. She regarded Faye with a sober expression, her gray eyes stony.

Chapter Fifteen

Realizing her cheeks were wet with tears, Faye wiped the moisture away briskly with her fingertips, forcing a smile to her lips. “What are you doing up here? We’re been looking all over for you.”

“Your mascara is smudged,” Jenna said mutedly, staring at Faye’s face. Her own face looked pale and drawn, but maybe only from the effort of climbing the stairs.

“I’ll fix it. Don’t worry,” Faye said, alarm welling inside her. With no door between the office and the loft, Jenna could have easily heard what took place between Faye and Simon ... depending on how long she’d been standing there. “Come on, let’s get you into your dress.”

Jenna didn’t budge. “I can see you’re upset, Faye.”

Faye pulled in a few deep breaths, desperate to gain control of herself. “I’m just a bit emotional. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure about that?” There was an odd tone to her voice, and she eyed Faye with careful scrutiny.

“Of course.”

Jenna’s thin brows lifted. “Really? Even though you’re in love with the man I’m about to marry?”

Faye felt her jaw slacken. Shaking her head vigorously, she could bring nothing but a strangled sound from her throat. Her heart hammered in her ears; she grabbed the chair by the computer for support as a wave of vertigo threatened to engulf her.