Suddenly a Bride / A Bride After All: Suddenly a Bride. Кейси Майклс

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СКАЧАТЬ and out at some mildly impressive other places. The material was beautiful, the lace exquisite, the skirt that flared out just at her knees a marvel of engineering. And she felt like a complete fraud.

      “It certainly is all you. What do you think?”

      “I think I should probably leave the glamour to someone who feels more confident in pulling it off.”

      “Agreed. Yet you’d be surprised at how many brides feel strapless and mermaid are the only way to go these days. Have you thought about T-ball?”

      Elizabeth half shimmied out of the unsuitable gown, then rested a hand on Chessie’s shoulder as she carefully stepped clear of it. “Excuse me?”

      “For your boys,” Chessie told her as she hung up the gown once more, zipping the bag as if to say “well, that didn’t work.” “Baseball, you know? This entire area is very big on youth baseball. The younger kids, like your Danny and Mikey, often hit from a sort of rubber tee. T-ball, get it? Or maybe they’re old enough to have real pitchers. You’d have to check.”

      Elizabeth crossed her arms against her bare stomach, hugging tight her insecurities, as well as memories she still had trouble facing when they slammed into her unexpectedly. “Oh. Baseball. I don’t know a thing about sports. Jamie bought the twins baseball gloves and these cute little footballs while they were still in the hospital nursery. He was so excited to think about teaching his boys how to play ….”

      She could feel Chessie’s eyes on her for a moment, but then the other woman tactfully turned back to the clear plastic bags and unzipped another one. “I think this one will be more your speed.”

      “Somewhere between slow and stop, huh?”

      “Oh, I like you,” Chessie said with a grin. “Just scrunch down for this one and lift up your arms. I’ll guide you to the armholes.”

      Once more Elizabeth found herself almost mindlessly obeying, standing up again as she emerged from the yards and yards of tea-stained material to look at her reflection in the mirror.

      “Oh, yes. I thought so,” Chessie said with some satisfaction. “It’s a perfect fit except for being just a little bit long. Step up on the podium so you get the full effect of the hemline.”

      Elizabeth did as she was told. The gown felt comfortable, like something she’d owned for years and didn’t even have to think about when she was wearing it. But the way it looked, the way she looked …

      She ran her fingertips along the modestly scooped neckline, the lovely cap sleeves that followed the cut of the scoop. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat as her eyes traveled down the front of the gown to the simple Empire waistline, the soft A-line skirt. She turned sideways to see there was a small sweep train on the gown that was all clean lines, no frills in the cut of it. Which made the clever use of lace elegant and not fussy.

      “What … what is it made of?” she asked when she could find her voice.

      “Silk crepe. Comfy, isn’t it? And that’s alençon lace on the bodice and in those sort of appliqués on the skirt and hem. Louis the Fourteenth, I think it was, called it the queen of laces. I love it because it’s so rich yet not showy. I mean, you don’t need sparkles when you’ve got alençon—just those few pearls stitched here and there. Oh, right, pearls. Wait here a second.”

      Elizabeth nodded rather numbly as Chessie sped out of the room, obviously a woman on a mission, and lifted the skirt slightly at either side as she turned this way, that way, attempting to find something wrong with the gown.

      But there was nothing. It was perfect. The gown had been made for her. It was her gown.

      Her bottom lip began to tremble and she bit down on it, trying to hold on to her shredding composure.

      “I remember seeing something like this in the photograph of the gown. Bend down so I can get this over your head,” Chessie said as she reentered the room. The next thing Elizabeth knew she was wearing a long rope of beautiful ivory pearls Chessie had wrapped once high around her neck before the length of the rope fell over her bodice and extended an inch or two past her waist. “Perfect! Nothing on your head—as if you’d need anything with that gorgeous blond hair of yours. No gloves, no bracelets. I’d say carry two or three long-stemmed calla lilies, their stems wrapped in simple ivory silk ribbon, but that’s it. Utter simplicity, complete elegance, a perfect second wedding.”

      Elizabeth’s eyes were stinging now and she blinked quickly, doing her best to hold back the tears.

      “We could try the third gown. We could try another ten gowns, twenty. But this is it, Elizabeth. You can’t deny it. This is your gown. I knew it the minute I saw you standing on the pavement. Am I good, or what? No, don’t answer that. I’ve got a big enough head as it is. Now let’s talk about the groom.”

      And Elizabeth, who made it a point never to show her emotions in public, burst into tears.

      Ten minutes later, with Eve and her bride now tucked away in the large dressing room, Chessie and Elizabeth were upstairs in Chessie’s living quarters, facing each other from a matched set of chintz love seats divided by a glass-topped coffee table.

      “Better now?” Chessie asked, tucking her legs up under her on the cushions.

      Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes with the last of the several tissues she’d employed after Chessie had shoved a box of them in her face. “Better enough to feel really, really embarrassed, you mean? Then, yes, I’m fine. I don’t know what happened down there.”

      Chessie pulled a face. “I do. I opened my big mouth and inserted my size-nine foot. You told me right off the top that you weren’t sure you were going to say yes to the guy. Richard was it?”

      “Yes, Richard. And he’s the dearest man,” she added quickly, hastening to defend him. “He’s kind and generous and gentle and …”

      “Boring?”

      “No! Richard is anything but boring. The boys and I live with him, you know.”

      Chessie took a drink from her glass. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But, hon, your reaction downstairs? Maybe living with and marrying are two different things? I mean, fun’s fun and all of that, but marriage is a pretty big commitment.”

      Elizabeth hastily raised her hands and waved them in front of her, as if to wipe away the last few moments of conversation. “Let me start over. I work for Richard. I work for him, and the boys and I live in his guesthouse. Better?”

      “Definitely clearer,” her new friend said, smiling. “So what sort of work do you do for the guy?”

      Elizabeth was feeling more confident now, with the subject of marriage at least temporarily shelved. “Richard’s a writer. He’s never married, lives alone and would probably starve to death without realizing it if someone didn’t take care of him. That’s how it began, with me answering his ad for part-time employment. He didn’t ask for skills, and since I really don’t have any outside of taking care of a house and making a fairly memorable pot roast, I seemed to fit the bill. But it was clear from the outset that Richard needed more than just someone to pick up after him and prepare a few meals.”

      “I think I’m getting the picture. The creative genius who forgets to eat and walks around for hours with СКАЧАТЬ