The Bastard Takes a Wife (5 page)

“Sam, you young bugger. Get over here and
give your dad a hug.” Kent stepped forward and grasped his son
around the shoulders, almost tackling him to the ground in some
sort of ritualistic family bear hug. The hug turned into a
masculine cheek kiss ~ familial and loving.

Sam pulled back and straightened.

“Hey Dad, Mum. Amanda.” He reached over and
pecked his mother, giving her a softer version of the hug and
followed up with a delicate kiss to his sister’s cheek. “Everyone,
this is my fiancée, Millie. Millie McIntyre.”

Sam’s arm snaked around my waist
affectionately and though I felt as if I was going to swallow my
tongue with nerves, it was nice to hear him say those words. I
don’t think he’d ever called me his fiancée before.

“Hi,” I said.

“So you’re the young filly that captured our
Sam, eh?” Kent’s handshake was so strong he almost pulled my arm
out. Whisking me away from Sam and spinning me around in a circle
before giving my rump a quick slap, he looked me over like I was a
prize horse.

“Um. Yes.”

“See why he chose you. You’re a cute young
thing.”

“Dad.” Sam’s tone was serious.

“Well, she is, Son.”

Kent turned back to me. “He’s not giving you
any grief is he? Sam’s always been a bit of a handful. Especially
when it came to girls. We didn’t think he’d ever get married.”

I smiled. “No. He doesn’t give me any grief,
Mr. Brockton.”

Not recently anyway.

“Super. You let me know if he does and I’ll
give him a swift boot up the bum. Sort him out fast.”

I pressed my lips together and tried not to
smirk. It’d be worth telling a few tales to see it happen. “Thanks.
I’ll remember that.”

“Millicent, we meet at last.” Patricia
Brockton moved forward. Her steel grey eyes gave me the once over.
I hoped my new dress was alright. Angus had been keen for me to
pick another but I’d felt comfortable in the Boho style chiffon.
And I had worn heels.

“Hello, Mrs. Brockton. Did you have a good
flight?”

Patricia snorted. “This is Australia, dear.
The flights are never good. Or on time. I keep telling Kent we
should have our own jet. With the amount of travelling we do, it’s
almost a sin not to.”

“I suppose.”

“Sam tells us you were the nanny for Adele’s
children.”

I swallowed hard and stood as tall as I
could. This woman was looking down her nose at me because I used to
be a nanny. “I was. Until recently. Now, I own a Bed and Breakfast
retreat in Lombok.”

Patricia was silent for a moment. “Yes. We
heard about that.”

“It’s lovely. You should come and visit.
We’re staying on after the honeymoon to see how everything is
running. I have a few event ideas I want to implement with the
staff.”

“I don’t do Bali, dear. It’s so 1985. And the
last time we went Kent got such a dreadful case of Bali Belly we
had to get the doctor to give him a shot. People shouldn’t be
allowed to live where there’s no proper water.”

“My B&B is five star, Mrs. Brockton. The
staff would be mortified to think of anything like that happening.
They take great pride in their work and the way they look after our
guests.”

“I’m sure they do.”

I could feel the tension creeping down my
neck and into my shoulders. What exactly was that supposed to mean?
Snobby cow. I looked up at Sam but he was silent, seemingly as
shocked by his mother’s words as I was.

“After all, it’s Sam’s money that pays for
everything you have.”

My eyes bulged at Amanda, who stood
protectively close to her mother. Like the rest of the family, she
was tall but her height was accentuated by the twig like nature of
her body. In fact, she would have made a twig look fat.

“He would only have the best,” she continued.
“That’s the way we were brought up.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, there’s no need,” Amanda replied. “We
all know Sam paid for your little project. Just like we know why
you’re marrying him.”

My mouth fell to the floor. Amanda’s lustrous
hair may have been cut to frame a heart shaped face that held eyes
exactly like Sam’s, her body may have been a perfect clotheshorse,
outfitted in the latest fashion straight from the Fall/Winter
Collections of Milan, she may have cast a close resemblance to her
twin in looks but she was a total bitch.

My cheeks reddened. “That’s not true. I paid
for the B & B with my own money. I’ve been saving for three
years.”

“My. That must have been an effort.”

“That’s enough, Amanda,” Sam said, pulling me
to him. “You need to apologise. Now.”

“But it’s true, Sam. Everyone’s talking about
it.” She looked at him as if daring him to argue.

“And who would everyone be? Kelly
Heath-Vandermere? Chloe St. George?”

“And the rest.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Amanda. I never had any
intention of hooking up with any of your friends and nothing has
changed. Or will. I’m marrying Millie whether you like it or not.
And despite what you and your cronies believe, she did not chase
after me or get pregnant to trick me into asking her. In fact, she
never even knew I had money and I practically had to beg her to
marry me.”

So there, I thought. Stick that in your pipe
and smoke it. I wanted to jump and down and sing ‘nah, nah, nah-nah
nah’ in the bitch’s face.

“But Sam… I was only… she’s so common.”

A feeling that the siblings had forgotten I
was even there seeped through me. It wasn’t a nice one.

“No. I don’t want to hear it.”

“She’s a gold digger.”

Sam took my hand and we walked up the stairs
and over to the space that had been set aside for the speeches and
cake cutting. I put on a brave face as he squeezed my hand and told
me not to worry about his sister ~ her reaction had been what he’d
expected and he’d explain it later. I sniffed back a tear as he
took me in his arms and we did the spotlight dance, knowing how
much he hated dancing but was willing to suck it up for me for one
night. Then I saw Amanda’s face in the darkness at the side of the
dance floor. She had a scowl on that could crack glass. And I knew,
that for every inch of love Sam felt for me, his family hated me
times ten. Well, with the exception of his Dad. Kent looked like
the type of bloke who accepted everyone as they were. But for his
mother and sister, I would never be good enough.

I left lunch with Sam the following Monday
and went to the house for a meeting with Angus, Adele and the
Brockton women. We were to decide on invitations that afternoon.
The printers were waiting and it could take up to three weeks
depending on the style chosen. Personally, I didn’t see the need
for a full on deputation to choose the invites, I would’ve been
just as happy with something generic but it seemed that I’d been
outvoted in my sleep. Sam and I were to have some swanky custom
things befitting our place in society or some such. Whatever. I’d
go along with it to keep the peace. No matter how perfect I wanted
our wedding to be, there were more important things in life than a
few bits of paper. And if me backing down brought me a bit closer
to being liked by Sam’s mother and sister, I’d do it; within
reason, of course. I wasn’t willing to agree to any old thing but I
was willing to compromise. I just prayed they were.

I pulled the car into the driveway of Adele
and Brian’s and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the
automatic gate to open. Normally, Adele left it open when the
children were at school but after discovering a photographer
dangling from a tree outside the window the previous day, she’d
decided it was time to crack down on security, hence the shut
gates. My fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel as I
waited. If only this were over. It was bad enough having people
think I was Australia’s new Princess Mary but now I had the hatred
of the in-laws to deal with too and I wasn’t looking forward to an
afternoon of daggered looks across the dining table. My emotions
were raw enough from the events of the party.

Sam had assured me he’d spoken to his mother
and there’d be no more mean words. He’d said his mother and Amanda
were feeling threatened because I was ‘taking him away’ from them
and that it wasn’t that they disliked me ~ how could they when they
didn’t know me ~ but rather that they didn’t trust me because of
the previous girls Sam had been involved with. I wasn’t upset. I
didn’t like the look of Amanda either.

“I wish Amanda would’ve got to know me before
she started spreading rumours about the town,” I’d told him. “It’s
not nice to have people looking at me like I’m only after your
money.”

Indeed, that morning, a reporter had asked me
to comment on that very thing as I went to get in the car.

“You can see her point of view, though, can’t
you? I’ve been in two failed relationships that, in the end, were
about money. Amanda’s only acting the overprotective twin. It’s no
more than I’d do for her.”

“Or she thinks I’m not good enough for you. I
saw the disdain, Sam. It was written all over her face.”

There, I’d said it. Sam’s sister didn’t like
me and we both knew why.

“She’s not like that.”

“Oh, come on.”

“She wants me to be happy.”

“And being with me won’t make you happy?”

Sam pulled me in for a cuddle. His lips came
down to kiss the nape of my neck. He knew how to make me quiver.
“Of course, it will. I’d never have proposed if I thought you
weren’t the one. You know that. Money isn’t an issue, so let’s not
fight over it.”

“Hmm.”

“Will you try to be nice to her?”

I’d looked up into his face; unsure as to how
I’d gone from being the victim to the one who had to back down. “In
case you’ve forgotten I didn’t do anything. She was the one who
attacked me.”

“And she assures me it won’t happen again.
I’ve told her how wonderful you are. She just needs to see it.
She’ll be on her best behaviour from now.”

It was a sweet gesture and while I trusted
Sam had done his best I was under no illusions that Amanda would
behave so I’d enlisted help of my own in the form of Mel, who I
noticed had arrived and was getting out of her car in front of me.
There was no way that Amanda cow could be mean to me again with Mel
around. Not if she wanted to leave the house with her hair
extensions in tact.

Everyone was waiting at the table in the
family room when Mel and I walked in. Angus had taken the head and
was fussing over a rather pretty woman who sat next to him wearing
a floaty, printed dress. Her fair hair hung over her shoulder in a
messy ponytail that was held in place with pink ribbon. She had a
glow about her cheeks that was so radiant I wanted to ask her where
she got her blusher. Adele sat between them, Amanda and Patricia,
who looked stonier than the headstones in Karrakatta Cemetery.

Determined not to let them get to me, I gave
my voice a particularly upbeat tone. “Hi everyone, we’re not late,
are we?”

Adele smiled. “Of course not, darling. Patty
and I had lunch. It seemed easier for her to come straight here
afterwards. And you’ve brought …”

Mel pulled out two chairs on the other side
of the table and we sat down.

“Bridesmaid number two ~ Melanie,” she said,
a naughty twinkle in her eye. She pressed her knee reassuringly
against mine under the table. “Now, can we get a wriggle on? I’ve
only got an hour before I have to be back at the office. If I want
to make partner by the age of thirty I have to keep my billable
hours up or old man Harris blows a fucking gasket.”

Patricia gasped.

Amanda almost fell off her chair.

This was what they needed. A good dose of
Mel.

“Mel’s a junior partner at Freeman and
Freeman. She specialises in divorces, pre-nups and stuff.”

Patricia sat forward, alert. “That reminds
me, Millie, you’ll need to make an appointment to see the family
solicitors with Sam. They have some documents drawn up for
you.”

“You want me to sign a pre-nup?” It was
confirmed. They hated me.

“It’s a formality.”

“As a member of Millie’s legal team, I should
inform you she won’t be signing anything until I’ve looked it over
first. Though why she should even have to is beyond me. Its not
like she’s going to skip the fucking country with Sam’s cash. She
doesn’t even like money. And quite frankly, you should be happy
she’s marrying your son. No one else in their right mind would.
He’s an absolute arse at times.” Hands locked on the table in front
of her, Mel glared across the expanse of table at Patricia who
looked as if she were going to have a minor coronary.

I tried to dispel the disbelief echoing in my
head. Team of lawyers? I never knew I had one lawyer, let alone a
team. All I’d wanted was someone on my side of the table so I
didn’t end up with some heinous looking wedding invitations. Mel
was right though. I wasn’t overly fussed about the material things
~ well, apart from my Pandora bracelet and glitter sandals. And
with the exception of my wedding day, I was quite happy wearing
whatever. Sam’s engagement ring was the most expensive thing I
owned.

“Are you insinuating my son has some sort of
personality flaw?”

“I’m not insinuating anything. Sam, bless his
hot little heart, is a Class A bastard. Thank God for Millie. She’s
the only one able to keep him in line. We used to have dreadful
trouble with him at the club before she came along.”

Patricia’s face went a funny shade of
puce.

Adele looked at the table.

The invitation lady examined a few
samples.

“Do we have to listen to this, Mum?” Amanda
demanded. “I mean, seriously. I think this ridiculousness has gone
on long enough. There’s no way she can marry Sam.”