Dream Trilogy (3 page)

She lifted her chin and seared him with a look. “I’m going to be rich, and famous, and happy. And I’m going to make it on my own. Mommy and Daddy won’t be paying for my life. I won’t have a cozy trust fund to bounce on.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t get bitchy with me, Margo. You don’t know what it is to work, to take responsibility, to follow through.”

“Oh, and you do? You’ve never had to worry about anything but snapping your fingers so a servant can buff up the silver platter you’re served on.”

As hurt as he was insulted, he crossed to her. “You’ve eaten off the same damn platter most of your life.”

Her color rose at that, shaming her. “That may be true, but from now on I’m buying my own platters.”

“With what?” He cupped her face in tensed fingers. “Your looks? Duchess, beautiful women clog the streets in L.A. They’ll gobble you up and spit you out before you know what hit you.”

“The hell they will.” She jerked her head free. “I’m going to do the gobbling, Joshua Conway Templeton. And no one’s going to stop me.”

“Why don’t you do us all a favor and think for once in your life before you jump into something we’ll have to pull you out of? This is a hell of a time to start acting up like this.” He set his glass down so he could push his hands into his pockets. “Laura’s wedding day, my parents half crazy because they’re worried she’s too young. Your own mother running around with her eyes all red from crying.”

“I’m not going to spoil Laura’s wedding day. I’m waiting until after she’s left on her honeymoon.”

“Oh, that’s damn considerate of you.” Fuming, he spun around. “Have you thought how Annie’s going to feel about this?”

Margo bit hard on her bottom lip. “I can’t be what she wants. Why can’t anyone understand that?”

“How do you think my parents are going to feel, thinking about you alone in L.A.?”

“You won’t make me feel guilty,” she murmured, feeling exactly that. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Goddamn it, Margo.” He grabbed her arms, throwing her off-balance so that she toppled against him. In her heels she was eye to eye with him.

Her heart thudded hurtfully against her ribs. She thought—she felt—something was going to happen. Right here. Right
now. “Josh.” She said it quietly, her voice shaky and hoarse. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and everything churned inside her, yearning.

The rude clatter on the stairs had them both springing back. When she managed to draw a breath, he was glaring at her. Kate clomped into the room.

“I can’t believe I have to wear something like this. I feel like an idiot. Stupid long skirts are impractical and just get in the way.” Kate stopped plucking at the elegant silk dress and frowned at Margo and Josh. She thought they looked like two sleek cats about to spring. “Do you two have to fight now? I’m having a crisis. Margo, is this dress supposed to look like this, and if so, why? Is that champagne? Can I have some?”

Josh’s gaze remained on Margo’s for another humming moment. “I’m taking it up to Laura.”

“I just want a sip before— Jeez!” Pouting now, Kate stared as Josh strode out of the room. “What’s with him?”

“The same as always. He’s an arrogant know-it-all. I just hate him,” Margo said between gritted teeth.

“Oh, well, if that’s all, let’s talk about me. Help.” She spread her arms.

“Kate.” Margo pressed her fingers to her temples, then sighed. “Kate, you look fabulous. Except for the incredibly bad haircut.”

“What are you talking about?” Kate ran her hair through the ruthlessly short black cap. “The hair’s the best thing. I barely have to comb it.”

“Obviously. Well, we’ll cover it up with the hat anyway.”

“I wanted to talk about the hat—”

“You’re wearing it.” Instinctively, Margo held out her champagne to share. “It makes you look very chic, Audrey Hepburnish.”

“I’ll do it for Laura,” Kate muttered, then dropped with little grace onto a chair and swung her silk-draped legs over
the arm. “I gotta tell you, Margo, Peter Ridgeway gives me a pain.”

“Join the club.”

Her thoughts revolved back to Josh. Had he actually been about to kiss her? No, that was ridiculous. More likely he’d been about to shake her like a frustrated boy whose toy wasn’t working to his liking. “Kate, don’t sit like that, you’ll wrinkle the dress.”

“Hell.” She rose reluctantly, a pretty, coltish girl with oversized eyes. “I know Uncle Tommy and Aunt Susie aren’t happy about all this. They’re trying to be because Laura’s so happy she’s practically sending off radiation. I want to be happy for her, Margo.”

“Then we will be.” She shook off worries of Josh, of later, of L.A. Now was for Laura. “We have to stand by the people we love, right?”

“Even when they’re screwing up.” Kate sighed and handed Margo the champagne flute. “I guess we should go up and stand by her then.”

They started up the stairs. At the door to Laura’s room, they paused, joined hands. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Kate murmured. “My stomach’s jumping.”

“Because we’re in this together.” Margo gave her hand a squeeze. “Just like always.”

She opened the door. Laura sat at the vanity, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. In the long white robe she already looked the perfect bride. Her golden hair was swept up, curls falling flirtily around her face. Susan stood behind her, already dressed for the ceremony in a deep-rose gown touched with lace.

“The pearls are old,” she said, her voice raw. In the shining mirror framed in carved rosewood, her eyes met her daughter’s. “Your Grandmother Templeton’s.” She handed Laura
the lovely eardrops. “She gave them to me on my wedding day. Now they’re yours.”

“Oh, Mom, I’ll start crying again.”

“None of that now.” Ann Sullivan stepped forward. She looked lovely and restrained in her best navy dress, her deep-blond hair in short, quiet waves. “No swollen eyes on our bride today. You need something borrowed, so I thought . . . you could wear my locket under your gown.”

“Oh, Annie.” Laura sprang up to hug her. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so happy.”

“May you stay half so happy for the rest of your life.” Feeling her eyes well, Ann cleared her throat, smoothed the already smooth floral coverlet on Laura’s four-poster bed. “I’d best go down and see if Mrs. Williamson is dealing with the caterers.”

“Mrs. Williamson is fine.” Susan took Ann’s hand, knowing their longtime cook could handle the most fussy of caterers. “Ah, here are the ladies-in-waiting now, just in time to dress the bride. And how lovely they look.”

“That they do.” Ann turned to run a critical eye over her daughter and Kate. “Miss Kate, you could use more lipstick, and Margo, you less.”

“We’ll have a drink first.” Susan picked up the champagne. “Since Josh was thoughtful enough to bring up a bottle.”

“We brought along a glass,” Kate said, shrewdly omitting they’d already had some. “Just in case.”

“Well, I suppose it’s an occasion. Just half a glass,” Ann warned. “They’ll be tippling at the reception if I know these girls.”

“I already feel drunk.” Laura watched the bubbles rise in her glass. “I want to make the toast, please. To the women in my life. My mother, who’s shown me that love makes a marriage bloom. My friend,” she said, turning to Ann, “who
always, always listened. And my sisters, who gave me the best of families. I love you all so much.”

“That’s done it.” Susan sniffed into her wine. “My mascara’s shot again.”

“Mrs. Templeton, ma’am.” A maid came to the door, all eyes as she peeked in at Laura. Later, she would tell the downstairs staff that it had been like a vision, all those lovely women standing in a room with the sun streaming patterns through fluttering lace curtains. “Old Joe the gardener is arguing with the man who’s come to set up the tables and chairs in the garden.”

“I’ll see to it,” Ann began.

“We’ll both see to it.” Susan touched Laura’s cheek. “It’ll keep me too busy to blubber. Margo and Kate will help you dress, baby. That’s how it should be.”

“Don’t wrinkle those gowns,” Ann ordered, then slipped an arm around Susan’s shoulders and murmured something quietly as they left the room.

“I don’t believe it.” Margo’s smile spread. “Mum was so distracted she left the bottle. Drink up, ladies.”

“Maybe one more,” Kate decided. “My stomach’s so jittery I’m afraid I’ll throw up.”

“You do, and I’ll kill you.” Margo recklessly tossed back the champagne. She liked the exotic sensation of it tickling her throat, bubbling through her brain. She wanted to feel just like this for the rest of her life. “Okay, Laura, let’s get you into that incredible dress.”

“It’s really happening,” Laura murmured.

“Right. But if you want to change your mind—”

“Change my mind?” She laughed at Kate as Margo reverently slipped the full-skirted ivory silk gown out of its protective bag. “Are you crazy? This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. My wedding day, the beginning of my life with the man I love.” Eyes misty, she circled as she slipped off
the robe. “He’s so sweet, so handsome, so kind and patient.”

“She means he didn’t pressure her to do the big deed,” Margo commented.

“He respected the fact that I wanted to wait until our wedding night.” Laura’s prim expression collapsed into wild glee. “I can’t wait.”

“I told you it’s not that big a deal.”

“It will be when you’re in love.” She stepped carefully into the dress as Margo held it for her. “You weren’t in love with Biff.”

“No, but I was wildly in lust, which counts for something. I’m not saying it wasn’t nice, it was. But I think it takes practice.”

“I’ll get lots of practice.” Laura’s bride’s heart fluttered at the thought. “As a married woman. Oh, look at me.” Stunned, Laura stared at herself in the chevel glass. Yards of ivory silk were sparkling with tiny seed pearls. Romantic sleeves puffed at the shoulders, then tapered to snugness. When Kate and Margo finished attaching the train, Kate arranged it in an artful spill of embroidered silk.

“The veil.” Margo blinked back tears. With her advantage of height, she slid the pearl circlet smoothly around the neat bun, then fluffed the yards of tulle. Her oldest friend, she thought as a tear snuck through. The sister of her heart. At a turning point. “Oh, Laura, you look like a princess in a fairy tale. You really do.”

“I feel beautiful. I feel absolutely beautiful.”

“I know I kept saying it was too fussy.” Kate managed a watery smile. “I was wrong. It’s perfect. I’m going to get my camera.”

“As if there aren’t going to be half a million pictures by the time it’s over,” Margo said when Kate dashed from the room. “I’ll go get Mr. T. Then I guess I’ll see you in church.”

“Yes. Margo, one day I know you and Kate are going to
be as happy as I am now. I can’t wait to be a part of that.”

“Let’s get done with you first.” She stopped at the door, turned again, just to look. She was afraid that nothing and no one would ever make her feel whatever it was that put that soft light in Laura’s eyes. So, she thought as she quietly closed the door, she would settle for fame and fortune.

She found Mr. T. in his bedroom, muttering curses and fumbling with his formal tie. He looked so dashing in the dove gray morning coat that matched the Templeton eyes. He had broad shoulders a woman could lean on, she thought, and that wonderfully masculine height, which Josh had inherited. He was frowning now as he mumbled to himself, but his face was so perfect, the straight nose and tough chin, the crinkles around his mouth.

A perfect face, she thought as she stepped in. A father’s face.

“Mr. T., when are you going to learn how to deal with those ties?”

His frown turned to a grin. “Never, as long as there’s a pretty woman around to fuss with it for me.”

Obligingly, she moved over to tidy the mess he’d made of it. “You look so handsome.”

“Nobody’s going to give me or any other man a second glance with my girls around. You look more beautiful than a wish, Margo.”

“Wait until you see Laura.” She saw the worry flicker into his eyes and kissed his smoothly shaven cheek. “Don’t fret, Mr. T.”

“My baby’s grown up on me. It’s hard to let him take her away from me.”

“He could never do that. No one could. But I know. It’s hard for me, too. I’ve been feeling sorry for myself all day, when I should be happy for her.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall, rushing. Kate with her
camera, Margo thought, or a servant hurrying to take care of some last-minute detail. There were always people in Templeton House, she mused, filling it with sound and light and movement. You never felt alone there.

Her heart hitched again at the thought of leaving, of being alone. Yet mixed with the fears was such dizzy anticipation. Like a first sip of champagne, when the rich fizz of it exploded on the tongue. A first kiss, that soft, sultry meeting of lips.

There were so many firsts she yearned to experience.

“Everything’s changing, isn’t it, Mr. T.?”

“Nothing stays the same forever, however much you’d like it to. In a few weeks you and Kate will be off to college, Josh will be back at law school. Laura will be a wife. Susie and I will be rattling around this house like a bunch of old bones.” Which was one of the reasons he and his wife were thinking of relocating to Europe. “The house won’t be the same without you.”

“The house will always be the same. That’s what’s so wonderful about it.” How could she tell him she was leaving that very night? Running toward something she could see as clearly as her own face in the mirror. “Old Joe will keep on guarding his rosebushes, and Mrs. Williamson will be lording it over everyone in the kitchen. Mum will go on polishing the silver because she doesn’t think anyone else can do it properly. Mrs. T. will drag you out to the tennis court every morning and trounce you. You’ll be on the phone scheduling meetings or barking orders.”

“I never bark,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

“You always bark, that’s part of your charm.” She wanted to weep, for the childhood that had gone so fast though she had thought it would never end. For the part of her life that was behind her now, though she had strained so hard to pull away. For the coward that lived inside her that shrank from telling him she was leaving. “I love you, Mr. T.”