Galahad in Jeans (Louisiana Knights Book 2) (28 page)

Her smile was wobbly and tears crowded behind her lashes. “Because Eloise said so?”

“Because I love you, Carla Nicholson, and want you with me at Windwood all the rest of my days. That is, if everybody is right, if what you said about me in the magazine is how you really feel, and you think you can be happy there.”

“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, you have to know that.” She looked down at their clasped hands, unconsciously tightening her grip. “But I’d written this terrible profile before I really knew you, back when I thought—well, the worst. Trevor was going to run it instead of the one I wrote later, and I couldn’t stand the thought of that, or of what you might think.”

“I know,” he said simply. “He sent me a copy.”

“He didn’t!”

“As soon as he got the other one.”

“You knew!”

“I also know you, and had sense enough to look at the date it was written.”

“Oh, Beau, I do love you, really I do. But I was so afraid everyone would hate me, including you, unless I stopped Trevor from using that old profile to make you seem a fraud. I’d never have left you that last morning except I had to make things right.”

“They were always right, love,” he said quietly as he lifted her hand to place it on his shoulder before drawing her into his arms. “Always.”

The white carriage, decorated with knots of ribbon in palest pink, wheeled down the long alley of venerable oaks at a slow and steady pace. The coachman on his box was dressed in gray, and the two white horses that pulled it arched their necks as if in bashful pride at the knowledge they were the focus of all eyes.

Up ahead, the rows of white chairs set out before the front steps of Windwood were filled to capacity. Chamelot had turned out
en masse
for this event of the year. Granny Chauvin was there, in a new purple suit and a hat that would not have looked out of place on the Queen of England. Merry Lou sat beside her, though she was about to leave town on a Caribbean cruise. Eloise, splendid in gray linen, held pride of place on a front row. Zeni, Trey’s manager at the Watering Hole, had dyed her hair rose-pink for the occasion. And more, so many more, were accounted for, all of whom had become dear friends in the past year.

Carla’s mother was also on hand, looking svelte and put-together in burgundy silk as she sat beside her husband, Carla’s stepfather. And if there was a mist of tears in her eyes, no one seemed to think it the least unusual.

Beyond the seating, tables were placed under the spreading oak tree shade, while a long center one held pride of place. Upon this latter rested a mountainous cake in pink and white, ranks of silver chaffing dishes, and great silver tubs filled with champagne in crushed ice. Music played, that classic and dreamily romantic wedding piece, Pachelbel’s Canon in D for piano and strings.

The great front portico of the house was banked with flowers on either side of the door, literally hundreds of pots on tiered racks, each filled with that multi-award-winning blossom, the pride of Windwood Daylily Farm known as
Carla’s Ball Gown
. Not a single bloom had been cut from the plants, however; every stem would give full, fragrant life to the flowers promised by its green buds.

A white arch decorated with more ribbon spanned the top of the wide steps. Beneath it, a preacher and Sheriff Lance Benedict waited, while Trey was on the step just below them.  As was entirely fitting, both of Beau’s cousin’s wore gray morning coats in their roles as best man and groomsman. The sheriff’s gaze was not on the approaching carriage, however; it was on his small son, barely three months old, that chortled up at Eloise as he lay kicking and stretching on the housekeeper’s broad lap.

The carriage slowed as it neared the house. Carla, seated in state in her gown of pale pink with flounces edged in gold lace, searched the porch up ahead for Beau. She didn’t see him, no matter how hard she looked. He wasn’t there waiting for her.

Lizzie, dressed in rose silk as a junior bridesmaid, didn’t bother to hide her curiosity and anxiety. “Where is Beau?” she whispered, her small face puckered with worry.

“Shh.” Mandy, seated beside the girl with her back to the horses, gave Carla a quick glance before putting a hand on the young girl’s arm. “Don’t worry. He’ll be here.”

Don’t worry…

That was easy enough to say for a woman perfectly happy with her husband, her new son, a figure as svelte as it had ever been before giving birth, and role as mere matron of honor. It was considerably harder to believe when every eye was upon her, the bride. Yes, and when
South of Normal Magazine’s
editor-in-chief was among the guests, photographer in tow to immortalize the event for her magazine’s readers.

What could be more fitting, after all, than a follow up for the wedding between the Perfect Southern Gentleman and the woman who had made him famous with her magazine profile?

Beau said she’d made him infamous. It wasn’t entirely a joke.

Yet the sun was shining, the leaves of the oaks overhead gleamed like green glass, and the air was scented with the mellow, citrus sweetness of magnolias in bloom. Windwood had on its best face as pageant time approached once more. The voices of the wedding guests competed with the buzzing of bees and soft rustling of a breeze. On such a glorious day for a wedding, how could anything go wrong?

Now the carriage was stopping. The coachman got down and came to hand Lizzie down. The girl threw Carla a look full of doubt before she took her daylily stem with its ribbon streamers in both hands and started slowly up the path toward the porch.

Mandy followed, her expression serene, her footsteps steady and sure.

The two attendants reached the porch. They took their places on the steps, opposite Lance and Trey. The music stopped, then began again with the traditional wedding march for the bride.

Carla had no one to give her away, and wanted no one as she was giving herself to Robert Galahad Beauregard Benedict. Her groom was supposed to come to meet her, and the two of them walk to meet their fate.

Carla looked at the coachman, but he was stepping aside, turning to wait with his back to the carriage. A murmur like a soft wind drifted among the guests. For the briefest of instants, she thought it held compassion for her, the deserted bride.

Oh, but there Beau was, his smile calm yet transfigured with happiness as he walked from the house and down the steps. The sun turned his hair to molten gold, shaded the planes of his face with bronze, and lay like silver across the shoulders of his gray morning coat. He was the most glorious man she’d ever seen, and he was hers.

How foolish of her to doubt him for a second. He would never have deserted her, not ever. He was far too much of a gentleman.

He offered his hand to help her from the carriage. When she stood to take it, however, he caught her waist and lifted her down, holding her there for an instant with an expression on his face so intense it was like pain. Seeing it, Carla knew she would never mistrust him again.

“What kept you?” she asked in the quietest of whispers.

“A sudden inspiration,” he answered close to her ear. “I needed to cross
Carla’s Ball Gown
with
Tillie’s Dream
.”

“You were missing your great aunt, wishing she was here today.”

“And thinking how much she would have loved you, loved the wedding here at Windwood, loved the prospect of seeing our children.” He turned with her, put her hand on his arm and covered it with his warm fingers as they walked together toward the wedding party that waited.

She honored him for that sentiment, but especially for the fact that he didn’t mind expressing it. He was special in so many ways, not the least of them being how deeply he loved. She looked up at him, her eyes moist and smile more than a little tremulous.

“What is it? What are you thinking about now, when I can’t do a blessed thing about it?”

Her smile widened as she plumbed the dark blue depths of his eyes. The word soft and not quite even, she answered, “Pollination?”

His laugh held joyous promise. She joined him in it. Together, leaning on each other for support, they mounted the steps of Windwood.

THE LOUISIANA KNIGHTS SERIES

(TRISTAN AVAILABLE SUMMER 2016)

National and international bestselling author Jennifer Blake is a charter member of Romance Writers of America and recipient of the RWA Lifetime Achievement Award. She hold numerous other honors, including the “Maggie”, the Holt Medallion, Reviewer’s Choice, Pioneer and Career Achievement Awards from
RT Book Reviews Magazine
, and the Frank Waters Award for literary excellence. She has written 73 books with translations in 22 languages and more than 35 million copies in print worldwide.

After three decades in traditional publishing, Jennifer established Steel Magnolia Press LLC with Phoenix Sullivan in 2011. This independent publishing company now publishes her work.

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Find Jennifer’s Books On Amazon

Louisiana Knights Series

Lancelot of the Pines

Galahad in Jeans

Tristan on a Harley
(Summer 2016)

Box Sets

Contemporary Collection Part 1

Contemporary Collection Part 2

Classic Gothics Collection

Italian Billionaire’s TwinPack

Louisiana History Collection Part 1

Louisiana History Collection Part 2

Love and Adventure Collection Part 1

Love and Adventure Collection Part

Louisiana Plantation Collection

No Ordinary Lovers

Royal Princes of Ruthenia

Sweetly Contemporary Collection Part 1

Sweetly Contemporary Collection Part 2

Contemporary Romance

The Tuscan’s Revenge Wedding

The Venetian’s Daring Seduction

The Amalfitano’s Bold Abduction

Holding the Tigress

Shameless

Wildest Dreams

Joy and Anger

Love and Smoke

Historical Romance

Silver-Tongued Devil

Arrow to the Heart

Spanish Serenade

Perfume of Paradise

Southern Rapture

Louisiana Dawn

Prisoner of Desire

Royal Passion

Fierce Eden

Midnight Waltz

Surrender In Moonlight

Royal Seduction

Embrace and Conquer

Golden Fancy

The Storm and the Splendor

Tender Betrayal

Notorious Angel

Love’s Wild Desire

Sweet Piracy

Romantic Suspense

Night of the Candles

Bride of a Stranger

Dark Masquerade

Court of the Thorn Tree

The Bewitching Grace

Stranger at Plantation Inn

Secret of Mirror House

Sweet Contemporary Romance