‘What? Sheets?’
‘There’s a reasonable variety ofdresses, hopefully you’ll find one you can endure just long enough for some photos.’
‘Photos?’
‘For the baby’s album.’ He grinned at her. ‘You can indulge your inner fire-starter and light a bonfire immediately after.’
‘You’re not worried I’ll burn down your entire estate?’
‘You’re the office fire warden, far too responsible to make such a catastrophic error.’
‘Fire warden?’ She shook her head. ‘First aid certificate.’
‘Same thing.’ He shrugged. ‘Can you cope with a wedding band? You can melt that down later too, remake it into something you prefer.’
Oh, she needed to take him down. But before she could even try to answer she heard heavy wheels out in the courtyard.
‘That will be your dress delivery. Do you want help choosing?’
She stood. ‘I can manage.’
‘Naturally,’ he muttered acerbically.
Her refusal wasn’t about independence, if Elodie or Bethan were here she’d fall over them in desperation for help. But she didnotwant Edo alongside her in this moment.
By the time she made it upstairs, Isabella was hanging several garment covers in the walk-in wardrobe of Phoebe’s room. The housekeeper’s eyes sparkled and Phoebe swallowed all pride. ‘Do you want to look at them with me?’
There were several options but it didn’t take them long to find a favourite. It was the colour of the crème in a crème caramel, long, with a delicate lace layer. Phoebe liked the long sleeves and the way it flowed about her body—masking her belly. She still couldn’t believe that she—supposedly so practical—had an unplanned pregnancy. Worse, that she’d not realised for solong.
Isabella fussed about her gently, smoothing parts and adjusting the hang of it. Then she met Phoebe’s eye and smiled. Phoebe didn’t go back downstairs but asked Isabella if she could have her dinner brought to her. No problem, of course. Edo didn’t disturb her and she tried to relax enough to sleep. The pregnancy hormones helped—she was asleep in seconds.
* * *
Isabella woke her with a breakfast tray. Without Phoebe having to ask again, she stayed to help—drawing her a bath and providing beautiful toiletries. Moved and grateful, Phoebe sat still as Isabella swept her hair into a half up, half down style. She took deep breaths and reminded herself this would only be temporary. She wasn’t going to lose herself. This was different, she could keep it onherterms. She just needed not to let her lust for him get the better of her.
In the early afternoon a bodyguard drove Isabella and her down the hill to the chapel. Phoebe gazed at the small stone building with its circular window. Phoebe walked in slowly. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light inside. Edo was already there, unbearably handsome in his dark suit.
Ceremony. Vows. Rings.
It passed in a complete haze because she could hardly hear above her heartbeat. She could hardly look at him either. He was too gorgeous. Too serious. And she was all thumbs, putting the wedding band on his cool finger. She’d not had to do that before. Ryan had refused to wear one.
Isabella and the bodyguard witnessed, taking time to sign the paperwork. As Edo talked with the official, Phoebe took the chance to walk about the chapel, trying to clear her fuzzy head. The floral array smelled gorgeous. Someone had put time and effort into making this tiny, already beautiful building even more stunning. She moved slowly, studying the old memorial plaques, reminders of the family who’d once owned this property. There were generations of them. A glint in the further back corner caught her eye. Half-hidden by flowers, the bronze plaque was incongruous because of its shine. It was newer. She brushed the petals to the side to read the inscription and froze.
Dante Benedetti
Was this hisbrother’smemorial stone? Phoebe’s breathing became choppier. She frowned and moved closer to read the dates, confused. Edo had said they’d got Dante back. He’d shown her that awful photo of him when he’d been freed. He’d said that Dante had never been the same but he’d never told her more. According to these dates, Dante had been nineteen when he’d passed. Five years after the abduction. What had happened? Why had he died so young?
Worried, she glanced back at her husband—serious and focused as he and the official talked. He’d lost both parents. She still didn’t know how. Now she knew he’d not been wholly truthful about his brother. She’d joked about him being a closed book, but he truly was. Of course he didn’thaveto tell her anything personal—certainly not anything deeply painful as this clearly was. But she worried for him—and now wondered whatelsehe’d kept from her. This had all happened so fast because she’d been swept along by his intense insistence onsecurity…
Was there worse that had happened? Whathadhappened to his parents? And what was the impact of all this on Edo himself? He must be so very hurt. It made her heart ache. Badly. Had she just made a massive mistake? Because she’d thought he might come round to the reality of their baby, to choosing to be more involved than he’d said he intended to…
Far too late she realised that she knew almost nothing about the man she’d just married.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘PHOEBE?’ EDO STRODEtowards his wife, his blood chilling. ‘What’s happened?’
The stunning woman who’d walked up the aisle towards him looking like something out of a dream only twenty minutes ago now looked atrocious. Her skin was the colour of chalk and there was a stressed sheen in her eyes. He wound one arm around her waist and pressed the backs of his fingers against her forehead. ‘Are you unwell?’
