The thought took him to their nights together, to the fire that came to life within her when they touched. He had to brace both palms against the wall of the shower until the sharp stab of desire passed.
As soon as he came out of the shower, the music reached him again.“‘Scuse me, but you see, back in old Napoli, that’s amore.”Christ, this music wasn’t helping.
He dried himself vigorously, rubbing the towel all over his body. Was he trying only to wipe away the water from is skin or the mistakes he’d made? The unpardonable delay in telling her the truth.
He would go downstairs and try to catch her at breakfast; she was usually an early riser. What could he say? Hopefully by the time he saw her, the right words would come to him.
He ignored the formal suit hanging in his wardrobe, plenty of time to get into that. He pulled on jeans and a jumper and went out to find some breakfast.
The music was much louder in the kitchen, and the frenetic activity didn’t make it any quieter. Where had all these people come from?
“Out.” Cook waved him away. “I’ve a kitchen full of temporary caterers. Breakfast is served in the dining room. Off you go.” And she rushed back to the counter where two assistants he’d never seen before were busy with a mountain of asparagus.
On his way out, he ran into Pierre wearing a towel wrapped around her head turban-style. “We’re not allowed into the kitchen,” he told her. “Cook says breakfast is in the dining room.”
She shook her head. “Only the men. Women are in the conservatory.”
He changed direction but Pierre stopped him. “No men allowed there.” She winked. “Can’t see the bride until the ceremony. The second floor is out of bounds for the men too.” She hurried past him.
“Pierre?” He followed her.
“What?”
“I wanted to ask you…”
What?
“The wedding dress, is it fixed?” Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would ask such a question. But the pain, the utter devastation in Laura’s face the other day was something he could never forget.
“Better than fixed.” Pierre beamed. “You’ll see it in the church.”
“And…” He needed to ask, needed to make sure nothing else would go wrong for Laura today. “No one is going to damage it?”
Pierre came back to stand close to him. “It’s being well guarded. Besides, look, you didn’t hear this from me…” She glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Laura didn’t want her sacked, but George had a talk with Nicole last night, and when she left his office, she looked like someone had hung her upside down. I don’t think she’ll dare do anything.”
He chewed the question he wanted to ask, then decided against it. He couldn’t involve other people in his personal life, today of all days. So instead he asked something else. “What’s going on with the old music?” He glanced at the speaker mounted on the wall. It was currently playingOn Days Like These.
The young woman grinned. “Lord M’s favourite songs.”
Ah, that explained it.
“You’d think this was his own wedding. He’s been up since before dawn getting shaved, hair trimmed and dolled up like a prince, and smiling all the time.”
“Smiling?”
“Smiling.” She nodded. “With his own lips and everything. Smiling at everyone in sight.”
“Have you slipped him a couple of happy M&Ms?”
“If I had those, I’d have used them on him long before now.”
Du Montfort had fretted for so long and hidden severe pain just to get to this day. At least he could enjoy it properly, now.
He turned to go in search of breakfast.
“Adam?” Pierre called more gently.
He glanced back at her.
