A Convenient Wedding. Lucy Gordon

A Convenient Wedding - Lucy Gordon


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blue?’

      ‘I know this—nobody is expecting you.’

      ‘Oh, yes, they are—well, in a sort of way—maybe not today exactly—hell! Why am I telling you? I am going to Larne Castle.’

      ‘How? Swim?’

      ‘Over the bridge.’

      The grinding of his teeth was audible even above the storm. ‘Will you listen to me? There is no—’

      ‘I’ll show you. The map’s just over here in my—why are there two Alsatians sitting in my car?’

      ‘Out!’ the man yelled and the two vast animals obediently jumped out.

      ‘That’s it!’ Meryl seethed. ‘I’m getting out of here before I start seeing things—if I’m not seeing them already.’

      ‘Fine. Turn back.’

      ‘Don’t give me orders. I’m continuing my journey, and if you stand in front of me again I shall drive over you.’

      She thought she heard him mutter, ‘On your own head be it,’ but she couldn’t be certain because she was already speeding on her way.

      CHAPTER TWO

      MERYL put her foot down. This was one journey she wanted to get finished, fast.

      The man had seemed strangely familiar with the castle and its concerns, and it briefly crossed her mind that he might be Lord Larne himself, but she dismissed the thought. That ill-tempered curmudgeon had never written the letter that had charmed her. Probably a family retainer.

      She could see where she was going now, the shore lights, and far beyond them the lights of some huge building that must surely be Larne Castle. Straight ahead for the bridge. She squinted, trying to detect the start of the railings. With her attention thus occupied she didn’t realise how far she’d driven until she found herself surrounded by water.

      ‘I’m in the sea,’ she said, aghast. ‘Where’s the bridge?’

      But there was no bridge, only a causeway, fast vanishing under the incoming tide. With horror she saw that the shore was fifty yards behind her. The waves were swelling strongly, and a sickening lurch warned her that her little car wasn’t built for this.

      She couldn’t go back. It would have meant trying to turn the vehicle and she didn’t know if the causeway was wide enough. Besides, retreat wasn’t in her nature. She must get ahead as fast as possible. The water had covered the road by only a few inches, and she could just about discern it.

      But it grew harder and harder to hold her course. She slammed her foot down, trying to force her way through, but the next moment a huge wave lifted her off the ground, sweeping her sideways, and suddenly she was right off the causeway and sinking.

      She tore at her seat belt and just managed to get it open as the car went down. Then she was free, dog paddling like crazy, with no idea where she was.

      ‘Here! Over here!’

      The voice came from behind her, and she struggled around to see the man who’d stopped her back on the road. He was waving the torch to attract her attention.

      ‘It’s not too deep,’ he yelled. ‘You should be able to touch down, a beanpole like you.’

      She managed to feel the ground with the tips of her toes, but then another wave tore at her, pulling her out to deeper water. She went down, struggling madly, came up gasping and tried to cry out. But water filled her mouth as she went down again. The man had vanished from the causeway. Rage filled her. He’d left her to drown.

      ‘Where are you?’ His voice came from nearby.

      ‘Here!’ she screamed as the current yanked her further out to sea.

      But then—oh, the relief as something that felt like a steel hawser went around her waist, holding her steady against the worst the water could do!

      ‘It’s all right. I’ve got you,’ said a voice she recognised.

      Now she could make out details of him. Before diving in he’d yanked off his heavy overcoat and sweater. Through the thin, sodden shirt she could feel shoulders like cliffs, the swell of taut muscles beneath her hands, the hardness of a heavy torso against her body.

      ‘Just keep hold of me,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not releasing you until we’re on land.’

      ‘Suits me,’ she gasped.

      ‘But if you’d listened to me in the first place—’

      ‘Must we talk about that now?’

      ‘No,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Later will be better, and I have plenty to say.’

      They’d reached the causeway, where he put her hands firmly onto the stones and told her not to move. She couldn’t have moved in any case. She was half frozen. When he’d climbed up he leaned down, reaching out his hand to grasp hers. She seized it with relief and he hauled her up. She achieved a toehold but slipped back almost at once, and felt a powerful arm shoot out and around her waist.

      ‘Grab me around the neck,’ he yelled.

      She did so and felt herself once more drawn against his body, tense with effort. He lifted her until her feet were clear, and then set her down. Her heart was pounding with fear, excitement and sheer annoyance at being rescued by this man of all people. She could never account for the first words that came out of her mouth.

      ‘Who are you calling a beanpole?’

      ‘Quit yakking and get in.’ He indicated his own vehicle. It was old and shabby but very heavy, and it was holding its ground against the surging water.

      ‘I’ve got papers on the front seat,’ he said. ‘You get in the back.’

      ‘With them?’ She indicated the two Alsatians occupying the rear.

      ‘They won’t mind.’

      She climbed gingerly in and sat squashed up against the two dogs, who welcomed her with delighted yelps and licks.

      ‘Thank you for rescuing me,’ she said through gritted teeth.

      ‘Wouldn’t have been necessary if you had any sense,’ he observed.

      ‘You might have told me there was no bridge.’

      ‘I tried, but you wouldn’t listen. There’s just the causeway and it’s only above water at low tide. Luckily I was coming this way in any case, so I knew I’d be there to rescue you from your own foolishness.’

      ‘You’re going to the castle?’

      ‘Right.’

      ‘You know Jarvis Larne?’

      He gave a brief flickering glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the road. ‘Is it him you’ve come to see?’

      ‘Yes, and I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t mean to turn up like this.’

      ‘You sound as if you’ve come a long way.’

      ‘I’m American,’ she said, answering the implied question. ‘From New York.’

      ‘That’s quite a distance to see a man who isn’t expecting you. What’s your business with him?’

      His familiarity irked her enough to make her snap, ‘I’m thinking of marrying him, actually.’

      The stunned quality of his silence was very satisfying. It was nice to have found something that would shut him up.

      ‘Would you mind saying that again?’ he said at last.

      ‘It’s a long story,’ she said, wishing she’d held her tongue. It wouldn’t do for this tale to reach Jarvis Larne before she did. ‘What I’ve just told you is in confidence.’


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