Welcome to Mills & Boon. Jennifer Rae

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       CHAPTER THREE

      IT WAS HARD not to be a little bitter. Helena had spent weeks choosing the perfect menu for this dinner, along with Isabella and the wedding planner and even Thea when she’d had time. They’d tasted and sampled all kinds of dishes, weighed up the pros and cons of a fish course against a sorbet between courses, and debated the merits of local versus imported cheeses for hours. And now, here she was, sitting right in the middle of the top table—and she’d barely tasted a mouthful of any of the plates put in front of her.

      It wasn’t that she didn’t want to eat. She was starving, as it happened. But the very efficiently tied corset laces were starting to make breathing a bit more of an issue than she’d like, and she didn’t want to strain them any more than she had to.

      She stared longingly at the dessert in front of her and resigned herself to just a small taste. And to staying away from the champagne. Bubbles always went straight to her head, and on an empty stomach they’d be disastrous. Especially today. Today, she needed all of her faculties about her.

      ‘Are you okay? You’re looking kind of...pink,’ Flynn asked, leaning in. Helena supposed to the crowds of guests it looked as if he was murmuring sweet nothings in his bride’s ear. Not asking her why her complexion had coloured to match her shoes.

      ‘It’s the corset. It was okay standing up but now it’s kind of...binding.’ Which it was supposed to be, really. It was just that Helena was so very fond of oxygen. And dessert.

      Flynn didn’t answer immediately. Helena glanced up to see his cheeks approaching shoe colour, too. ‘I’m sorry. Do you want me to...?’ He trailed off, waving a hand behind her back.

      Helena shook her head. ‘Too late now. It’ll be fine. I just need to make it through the speeches then I’ll escape and find a maid or someone to adjust it.’

      ‘Just don’t let any of the guests see you.’ Flynn flashed her a quick grin. ‘You’ll have the rumour mill announcing you’re pregnant in no time.’

      Pregnant. Of course. Because she was married now. And that was what married women did, wasn’t it? Gave their husbands babies.

      Isabella probably wouldn’t even cry and send her away this time.

      This time, it wouldn’t be a scandal, a shameful thing. It would be wanted, loved. Kept.

      And the fact it might break her heart again still wouldn’t matter.

      A waiter reached in to clear her barely touched plate and Helena murmured a thank you, more grateful for the interruption to her thoughts than the service.

      ‘Time for the speeches next,’ she said, visualising the timetable for the day as she’d seen it on the wedding planner’s clipboard.

      ‘And your dad’s up first. At least he always makes a good speech.’

      Helena stared at him in disbelief, but Flynn appeared utterly unaware of what he’d said. ‘A good speech?’

      ‘Well, yeah.’ Flynn shrugged. ‘Doesn’t he? I mean, he does all those charity event speaker things, and he always talks well to the board. And I thought he did pretty well last night, at the rehearsal dinner.’

      Helena shook her head. ‘No wonder Thea slept with Zeke,’ she muttered. After listening to their father’s speech about her the night before—including, amongst other things, a line about how glad he was that, by agreeing to marry Flynn, Thea had finally made a decision in her personal life as good as the ones she made in business—even Helena had been ready to flee the room. And Flynn hadn’t even noticed that his fiancée might have been a bit upset.

      She wondered what little gems Dad would have in store for her. Assuming that he’d taken the time to rewrite it from his original speech, as planned for Thea. He might not. They seemed fairly interchangeable to him today—neither one of his daughters living up to what he wanted or expected from them.

      She didn’t have to wait long to find out. The moment the last of the plates were cleared, Thomas Morrison was on his feet, carefully clinking the silverware against a champagne flute.

      ‘Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, welcome—welcome to you all!’ Thomas smiled broadly around at the assembled company, and Helena wondered exactly how much of the champagne he’d had that afternoon.

      ‘On this very special day, I’d like to thank you all for travelling to be with us, not just on my own behalf, but on behalf of my dear old friends, Ezekiel and Isabella, too. I know that they feel, as I do, that this day would not have been so magical without all of you here to share it.’

      Pause for applause. Flynn did have a point, although she’d never admit as much. Her father knew how to play a crowd.

      It was just a shame he didn’t know how to make his own daughters feel as special.

      ‘This day, this joining of our two families, has been long coming, and long desired. Not just for the obvious reasons of business—although I know several of you very pleased to see your stocks and shares safe for another generation!’ Laughter, mostly from a table of middle-aged men in pinstriped suits with much younger wives towards the back of the room. ‘No, I have far greater reasons for wanting to see our families irrevocably linked.’

      Helena swallowed at the word irrevocably, and felt Flynn flinch beside her. Was he thinking about how to get out of this marriage, like she was? Or was he plotting how to keep her in it?

      ‘Helena, my Helena, has always been my golden child. My baby girl. And to see her safe and secure with a man such as Flynn, a man I already trusted with my company, is quite frankly a joy!’

      If her cheeks had been pink from oxygen deprivation before, then they had to be bright red and clashing with her shoes by now. As she stared at her full champagne glass, watching the bubbles rise and pop, Flynn sneaked his hand into hers and she squeezed gratefully.

      ‘Flynn—’ Thomas turned to address his new son-in-law directly ‘—you have been given a precious gift today. I expect you to take very good care of it.’

      ‘I will, sir.’ Flynn’s voice was sure and certain, and the whole room burst into applause again at the sound of it.

      ‘Okay, maybe he’s not dreadful at speeches,’ Helena murmured to Flynn but, even as she said it, Thomas launched into a long, overdone thank you speech to Isabella for all she’d done in helping to raise her and organise the day. ‘Sometimes.’