Free The Youngest Bridesmaid by Sara Seale Page A

arrangements. The Merrick wealth and Merrick legend would smooth the roughest paths.
    “ Can you remember a time when you hadn ’ t all this, Piers? ” she asked, observing with surprise that whereas all her expensive toilet accessories were new and clearly meant to impress, his brushes and other masculine requirements were well-worn and unpretentious.
    “ Oh, yes. We were comfortable, I suppose, but not well off until my father inherited from that forgotten black sheep of the family who took himself off to the wilds of Australia or somewhere and made a fortune no one believed in till he died. I must have been about twelve or so. The principal difference it made to me then was the fact that my father altered his original plans for my education and sent me to a famous public school he could never have afforded otherwise—a fact, I may say, not at all appreciated by me at the time. ”
    He was talking easily and with patience, for he thought, watching her changing expression as her gaze wandered round the room, that she was just beginning to realize that she was irrevocably committed, that their intimate possessions cheek by jowl together bore mute testimony that the pretence was over, that reality must be faced, and that for her reality might be frightening.
    She was still wearing her coat and he slipped it gently off her shoulders, letting it fall in a rich, supple heap on the floor as he turned her round to face him.
    “ Lou— ” he said, “ —are you scared? ”
    He could have shaken her as her eyes met his rather blankly. Couldn ’ t she understand that he was trying to make things easy, for her? Then she confounded him with one of those calm flashes of maturity he had not yet come to expect from her.
    “ Yes, ” she replied quite simply. “ I ’ m scared. Not for the—the conventional reasons, but because you ’ re a stranger, and someone quite out of my world. I may not measure up. ”
    He should, he knew, have felt compassion, even been touched by a humility he had not met with in other women, but his head was beginning to throb unmercifully and he was merely irritated.
    “ Don ’ t be humble, Cinderella, ” he said a little harshly. “ I wouldn ’ t care for a sacrificial doormat, however pleasing to one ’ s ego for a time. ”
    Her eyes flew open in sudden shock, or perhaps it was simply hurt surprise, but she said nothing and he observed more gently:
    “ I suppose we should be thinking about dinner. No doubt our rather fulsome manager would be delighted to serve us something in our rooms, but I think we ’ ll grace the public dining room just the same. ”
    “ Should I change? ” she asked like a child unsure of correct procedure.
    “ If you like, ” he replied indifferently, and reflected that she was again like a child, stripping off her suit without embarrassment, wandering about in her slip, apparently unconscious of the fact that he stood and watched her. She was most delicately made, he thought, observing the small bones, which, like those of a young cat, lent grace to movement, even though not fully matured, and he began to regret his decision to dine in public.
    III
    When she was ready she slowly turned herself about for his approval, and looked disappointed when he said briefly: “ Not your color. ” No, she thought, it was Melissa ’ s color, it was part of Melissa ’ s trousseau; the very brushes she had used, the scent from the jewelled-topped flask, were all part of the extravagant luxuries meant for another bride. If, thought Lou unhappily, I had just something of my own that wasn ’ t bought for someone else ... then she remembered her shabby slippers and was comforted.
    “ I believe you ’ re vain, Cinderella, ” Piers teased, trying to guess from her changing expressions what she was thinking. “ Are you hurt because I don ’ t care for your dress? ”
    “ Why should I be? It was made for Melissa, ” she replied, and as the amusement left his face, wished she