The Final Falcon Says I Do. Lucy Gordon

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      She turned furious eyes on Jackson.

      ‘You’ve got a nerve. Who are you to tell me what to do?’

      ‘I’m your stepbrother who’s concerned about you,’ he said firmly.

      ‘And who thinks he can dictate to me. Give me that phone. I must talk to Dan.’

      ‘Wait. Let me try.’

      He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve by speaking to Dan first. The situation was already a car wreck. But he took out his own cell phone and dialled the number. There was only silence.

      Freya lost patience, seizing the phone from him and dialling again. Still there was no response. She closed her eyes, feeling as though she was surrounded by an infinity in which there was neither light nor sound. Only nothingness. At last she gave up. Her shoulders sagged.

      ‘He’s turned his phone off,’ she said bleakly. ‘He really is running away from me. I’ve got to get out of here. How can I find a way out through the back? I can’t go back down the aisle with everyone watching.’

      ‘Come on,’ Jackson said, taking her arm before anyone else in the family could do so and leading her out.

      To his relief an exit soon appeared. But his relief was short-lived. His arrival without Dan had been seen and the word had already gone round, both in the congregation and the waiting press. People were gathering at the back of the church, alive with curiosity. When Freya appeared a cry went up.

      ‘There she is! What happened? Where’s the groom?’

      ‘Get away!’ Jackson yelled. ‘Leave her alone.’

      He got in front of her, waving his hands to force them back.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he said, turning back to her. ‘Freya—Freya?’

      She had gone, running away down the street in a way that ironically echoed Dan’s escape. For the second time that day Jackson gave chase, this time catching up easily.

      ‘Go away,’ she cried. ‘Leave me alone.’

      She turned and would have run again but he seized her shoulders.

      ‘Let me go.’

      ‘Freya, I can’t do that. Heaven knows what would happen to you. I’m not taking that risk.’

      ‘It’s my risk, nobody else’s,’ she cried. ‘Do you think I care?’

      ‘No, but I care.’

      ‘Let me go!’

      ‘No! I’ve said no and I mean no, so stop arguing. Taxi!’

      By great good luck one had appeared. He hustled her inside, gave the driver the address of the hotel where the family was staying, then got into the back and took her into his arms.

      ‘Let it out,’ he said. ‘Cry if you want to.’

      ‘I’m not going to cry,’ she declared. ‘I’m all right.’

      But as he held her he knew she was far from all right, perhaps not weeping but shaking violently. He drew her close to him, patting her shoulder but saying nothing. Words would not help now. He could only offer friendship, knowing that even that was feeble against the blow that had struck her.

      At last she looked up and he saw her face, pale and devastated.

      ‘I’m here,’ he said. ‘Hold onto me.’

      Even as he said it he felt foolish. Yes, he was there, the person whose clumsiness had helped to bring about this disaster. But there was nothing else to say.

      At last the hotel came in sight, and at once he knew he had another calamity on his hands. The front was crowded with people watching the street for interesting arrivals.

      ‘Oh, no!’ he groaned. ‘The word’s got out already.’

      ‘And they’re waiting for me to come crawling back,’ she said. ‘Look, someone’s got a camera.’

      ‘Then they’re going to be disappointed,’ Jackson said grimly. ‘Driver, there’s been a change of plan.’ He gave his own address and the car swerved away.

      ‘They’ll never find us at my place,’ he said. ‘You can stay until you’re safe.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘But will I ever be safe again?’

      ‘You will be. I’ll see to it. Just hold me. Everything’s going to be all right.’

      If only he could believe it.

      CHAPTER TWO

      AT LAST THEY reached the apartment block where Jackson lived, and managed to slip inside unseen. It took a few moments to go up in the elevator, and there was his front door.

      ‘Now we’re safe,’ he said, closing it behind them. ‘Forget them. They can’t get at you here.’

      Freya looked around her as though confused, but suddenly she stopped, staring at a mirror on the wall. She was still wearing her veil and the pearl tiara that held it in place. With a gasp of fury she seized them, ripping them off and hurling them to the floor. Then she seized at her hair, tearing down the elaborate coiffure until it hung untidily about her face.

      ‘I’ve got to get out of this dress,’ she cried.

      ‘Come in here,’ Jackson said, leading her into his bedroom and opening the wardrobe. ‘Put something of mine on. My clothes will be too big for you, but they’ll do for a while. I’ll leave you.’

      ‘Wait.’ She turned so that her back was towards him. ‘I can’t undo it alone.’

      There seemed to be a thousand tiny buttons to be released, and Jackson went to work. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped a woman undress, but those experiences were no use to him now. Inch by inch her figure came into view, and inwardly he cursed Dan again for abandoning such delicate beauty.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said at last. ‘I can manage the rest for myself.’

      ‘I’ll be outside if you want me,’ he said, and hurried away.

      Left alone, Freya freed herself from the dress and the slip beneath. In the wardrobe she found a pair of jeans and a shirt, which she slipped on, and then she looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

      It was only a short time ago that she’d stared at herself in the glamorous dress, hardly daring to believe that the beauty gazing back was actually herself.

      ‘And I shouldn’t have believed it,’ she murmured. ‘This is the real me—the one I always knew I was. Dull, ordinary. Not too bad on a good day, but pretty dreary on a bad one. I guess all the days are going to be bad from now on, and if I’m wise I’ll stick to working clothes.’

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