Pulling her car to a stop, she took out her phone and began to record. ‘Well, here we are at Glentoberon,’ she said, zooming in on the gates. ‘It’s the final bridesmaid fittingbefore the big event. I imagine tensions will be running high inside. Wish me luck.’
Her followers had gone nuts over the wedding updates she’d been posting lately. It was amazing how many likes the content she posted on her hometown and daily life often garnered. People were clearly interested in how country folk lived.
‘Finally!’ Bel’s aunt called out in lieu of a proper greeting, taking her arm and leading her towards the drawing room, where a group of women were already gathered. ‘You’re next. Quickly, now.’
Yes, so nice to see you too, Aunt Lois.
‘Right. Undress,’ Gisele said as Bel entered, clapping her hands briskly. Apparently wedding planners extraordinaire even oversaw the final dress fitting before the wedding.
‘Here?’ Bel asked, looking around for a private corner.
‘Yes, yes. Don’t be shy, it’s only us girls here,’ the snippety wedding planner added.
Across the room, Kelly, another bridesmaid, was stepping out of her dress with the help of the seamstress, Leslie, the same woman Bel had met at the last dress fitting in Sydney. Bel noticed Kelly’s pretty matching bra and underwear set in cream lace and felt her cheeks getting warm. After the first dress fitting, when she’d realised she would be semi-naked as she stepped in and out of her dress, Bel had purchased a few new sets, but they were just the department store ones, not the designer lingerie kind the other girls favoured. Andwhen she’d gotten dressed earlier, the only matching set she’d had left in the drawers were her hot pink ones, probably not the ideal selection for a dress fitting.
The drawing room was a massive area that could easily fit a hundred people or more, as it had often done for the various charity events her aunt and uncle had hosted over the years. Light streamed in from the huge windows overlooking the front driveway and gardens, which was obviously why they were using the room. It felt incredibly … open. Anyone could look in through the windows or walk in.
Bel was feeling more than a little uncomfortable at this thought as she hesitantly unzipped her jeans and dropped them to the ground.
‘It’s okay, Bel,’ Larkin said, coming up behind her. ‘All the men have gone to play golf—a bonding session of sorts.’ Bel glanced across at Lisa, the other bridesmaid who was there, lounging comfortably in a light robe which barely covered her undergarments. She and Kelly, the matching blondes, laughed and drank champagne without a hint of self-consciousness.
‘That pink is great on you,’ Larkin added, holding out a wheat-coloured robe for her.
Taking off her top, Bel accepted the wrap and quickly slipped into it as she was bundled over to the impatiently waiting Leslie.
The dressmaker was an odd-looking woman, tall and thin and always dressed impeccably in a pencil skirt and button-up blouse. The style had been the same each time Bel had seenher, but the colour changed. Today, she wore navy blue. Her dark eyes were almost black, but it was hard to tell their exact shade as she was always squinting or sizing something up. Bel had to concentrate to not keep staring at Leslie’s beak-like nose, which was incredibly hard since the more she tried to ignore it, the more she found herself focused on it.
Today, Leslie’s emotions seemed to be running high. Never exactly warm or welcoming, the bird-like woman was even more abrupt than usual. Bel wasn’t one to be easily offended and put it down to being under enormous pressure to have all the dresses, including Larkin’s, perfect for the big day. There was a lot riding on this wedding. For Leslie, her reputation—and the business that would come her way from the social elites if everyone was gobsmacked by her designs—was on the line.
Bel kept her mouth shut as she was turned this way and that, and did what she was told. She was greatly relieved when the zipper at the side did up without resistance and hoped Larkin appreciated the month-long ice cream ban she’d imposed on herself.
‘You may take it off now,’ Leslie snapped. Bel had been trying to figure out the woman’s slight accent for months. Sometimes, when she listened extra hard, it didn’t sound like there was one at all, and other times there was the faintest hint of something … Russian maybe? She wasn’t sure and, judging from the woman’s tightly pursed lips, today was probably not the day to ask.
Her aunt stopped to ask Leslie something and Bel carefully undid the zip and began to pull her arms out of the sleeves to step out, the same way she’d stepped into it earlier. Only Leslie had made a few alterations and now it was too tight to free herself. She reached down and gathered up the long skirt to try taking it off over her head but found out halfway through the process that she wasn’t quite tall enough to pull it all the way off. Now, dress pulled over her head, Bel realised she was effectively stuck.
‘No! Wait!’ Leslie exclaimed, giving an irritated click of her tongue as she attempted to carefully pull the dress the rest of the way over Bel’s head.
A sharp pain tugged at Bel’s scalp and she yelped. ‘My hair’s caught,’ she said, trying not to give in to the rising panic of being smothered alive in a sea of pink baronet satin.
‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’ a deep voice boomed.
Bel stiffened and heard Larkin shriek, ‘Get out!’ followed by more high-pitched, coy feminine protests. ‘You’re supposed to be away all day, Tristan. What are you doing back so early?’
‘We got sick of golf,’ Bel heard him explain.
A low wolf-whistle floated through the room followed by a chorus of male chuckling. Bel heard Larkin raise her voice again. ‘Out! Now. All of you!’
All of you?The cool air against her scantily clad body reminded Bel how much of her was on show, even if her headwas still bured in satin, and she instinctively began to struggle against the restrictive fabric, desperate to cover herself.
‘Stop squirming,’ Leslie grunted, then gave a triumphant, ‘There!’
Bel heard an irritated mutter of, ‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ from her aunt and realised she had yet again lived up to her reputation as a disappointment. The dress fell to her feet in a puddle of harmless glistening satin. Bel grabbed for the wrap she’d worn earlier, shoving her arms into the sleeves and securing it across her tightly. When she dared to look up, she caught the briefest glimpse of one very tall, extremely good-looking romance hero lookalike as he disappeared through the door. Bel squeezed her eyes shut, completely mortified. It was bad enough that Tristan had barged in and had seen her in her underwear, half-swallowed by a bridesmaid’s dress, but for Tate to have also witnessed it? She wouldn’t be able to face him. She couldn’t.
Bel grabbed her clothes from the chair across the room and pulled them on. She sat down and tugged on her work boots, feeling her face burn with delayed embarrassment.
‘We’re going to have drinks out by the pool now,’ Larkin said, coming to stand by her side.
‘I’m going home.’
