You defended my honor. Thanks, Cora, I said, stil feeling the flush in my face and neck from Patrick finding me sans clothing, wishing he would have found me in my usual underwear, for he would have pierced his eyes out with hot pokers if he walked in on me in those. Cotton on women was Patricks kryptonite.
Cora helped me into the trench coat; again, a fit so perfect the cuffs even hit in the right spot of my freakishly long arms. How are you doing? she asked, her inability to look me in the eyes leaving nothing to interpretation as to what she was referring to.
Im doing my best not to think about it, I answered, cinching the belt tight. Because it doesnt matter if I think about being Betrothed to Wil iam or Patrick tonight. Both scenarios drudge up emotions that are so extreme, they handicap me.
Cora gave my hands a squeeze, a sad smile on her face. Do you think he suspects anything? I mean, I know hes been gone since the day after you guys were al but promised by Charles, but talk gets around faster than you can say shameless gossip.
I shook my head. Hes so deliriously happy he couldnt have a clue. I looked up at her. Do you think I should tel him before tonight? The thought of informing Wil iam that I could be promised a forever to Patrick was something on my list of things I never wanted to ever think, let alone speak.
What do you think . . . she stopped, shaking her head. She laid her hand over my heart. What do you feel you should do?
Knowing what I felt was always easier to gauge than what I thought. Too many things could get in the way when you thought something out, things like morals and social responsibility, your prior experiences and others perceptions. Feelings were easier, at least for me, because Wil iam was the center of my universe, what kept the pieces of me in orbit. When I went on my feelings, he was at the core of my consideration, making my decisions easy. A certain part of me wants to tel him so he can be prepared for what could happen. I was tired of saying Patricks and my name in the same breath. I couldnt do it any more. But then another part tel s me theres nothing he could do to prepare himself for that, so why ruin his night?
Cora shot me a look of disbelief.
Its not like we know for sure were not going to be Betrothed tonight, I said, trying to convince her as much as I was myself. Everything might happen just the way he expects.
I know that, Cora replied in her calm voice. I want that just as much as you do. I was only inquiring so I knew what kind of reaction to expect from Wil iam tonight. She grinned, pul ing at the sleeve of my coat. Our ten minute waiting period must be done. So I wont need the few dozen extra security guards until immediately after the Betrothals are cal ed out.
You might not need them at al , I said, feigning offense as she led me out the barn doors. Besides, in case you havent noticed, Wil iams already got his own security duty on his heels twenty-four-seven. Why would you need even more?
We stepped out into the early morning mist, the crispness of the air a welcome relief from the stifling conversation.
Theyre not for Wil iam, Cora said, linking her arm through mine. Theyre for Patrick.
I laughed, even though I knew I should have been crying for letting my mind wander down the Patrick and Bryn Hayward path. Coras own loud, choppy laugh joined mine and I was grateful she was with me. Cora had a gift for infusing laughter into any situation.
Hey-a, Bryn? Patrick said, stepping out from behind the prehistorical y large tree in Charles backyard.
Cora and I skidded to a stop in our surprise, but she recovered faster than I did. Lifting her chin, she ignored him, pul ing me away from his tortured looking face and his disheveled looking clothing.
That got my attention more than anything, Patrick had a strict no wrinkles al owed policy when it came to his designer clothes and the only time Id seen his shirt tails sticking out of his slacks had been . . . wel , never. If I hadnt been so flustered from being caught near-naked by him, I would have noticed then, but he looked drained, like he hadnt slept in days.
Can I have a second? he asked, staring at me. A second alone? His eyes darted to Coras before settling back on me.
What do you need, Patrick? I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
I need to say something to you. He swal owed, sweeping his hand through his hair. Its important.
Ha! Cora grunted. Youve said more than enough already this morning. Holy boobs? she quoted. Real y, Patrick? Real y? She tugged on my arm again, trying to break me from the torture coming from Patricks eyes, keeping me rooted where I was.
Bryn? he whispered, sounding defeated. I wasnt sure which scared me more, Patricks demeanor or his tone.
Not now, Patrick, I said, closing my eyes for a few heartbeats to break his gaze. This time when Cora pul ed at me, I was able to break free of my statue-like state. Later, okay?
What if laters too late? he said, more to himself than to me, but it caused my already considerable resignations for tonights outcome to increase.
Id let too much ruin tonight already, I wasnt going to let anything else. Thats just too damn bad, I cal ed back, feeling more awful than empowered.
Patricks only response was driving his fist into the trees wide trunk.
CHAPTER FIVE
DRESS EVASION
Do you think Pervert, I mean Patrick,”Cora shot me an evil grin as we started up her and Josephs walkway”has heard the rumors?
Patrick and rumors? Dont those two go hand in hand like Patrick and conceit? I said, rol ing my eyes to the gray sky. Hes probably the one that started them.
That would be something hed do, Cora said, coming to a stop. What are you going to do if it is Patrick?
Her question stopped me. I inhaled, visualizing drawing in the positive and emptying out the negative. Inhale Wil iam, exhale Patrick. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.
And then, Wil iam was there, as real in my mind as if he was standing inches in front of me, grinning like only he could. Its not going to be Patrick, I said, confident. So I dont need to worry about Patrick now or ever. Closed book. I looked back at her and an expression of surprise and pride met me. Can we not talk about it anymore?
My lips are sealed. She drew an imaginary zipper across his mouth. So lets go get you ready for your man. Weve transformed Nathanial and Abigails whole second floor into a swanky day spa so we can indulge in some pampering and primping.
Sounds very . . . girly, I settled on.
And that sounds like a very Bryn way of saying no, thank you, Cora said, propping a hand on her hip. Are you seriously bailing on us? We wanted to make today extra special for you. She stuck out her lower lip.
Today will be extra special, I said, feeling my confidence growing. And thank you so, so much for putting al that together and thank you for this morning and looking out for Wil iam and me . . . It was always hard saying no to Cora, but this one was especial y hard. But I real y need to be alone for a few hours to col ect my wits.
Cora sighed, resigned. Fine, wel get an extra massage in your honor. She gave me a quick hug, topped off by a reassuring smile before turning. If you need a distraction from your wit col ection, you know where to find us.
Wil do, and thanks again, I cal ed after her.
She stopped so abruptly you would have thought shed run into an invisible wal . Oh, dear me, I cant believe I almost forgot.
Forgot what?
She looked at me over her shoulder. Please, Bryn, if you love me like a sister, please tel me you have a formal dress picked out, purchased, and sized appropriately for you.
What I wouldnt give to have such trivial worries instead of the life and death ones that had plagued me my entire life. Have a little faith, I answered, keeping my voice level.
She studied my face, looking for some fissure of deceit. Final y convinced, she said, I have a little bit of faith, so alright,”she nodded her head once”I cant wait to see it. Give me a cal if you need any help getting it zipped or picking a pair of shoes to match or walking once you get into al of it. She winked at the scowl stretching across my face before she did the best run-skip combo Id seen yet. Only Cora could pul off a couple of side braids while skipping through a field without looking ridiculous. Good luck, Bryn! she shouted as she disappeared in the trees.
I make my own luck, I grumbled to the air, turning to prepare myself for a Betrothal to Wil iam Hayward.
So I didnt exactly pass the day in a way that would have pleased Cora. Instead of plucking, waxing, and polishing my way to seven oclock when the Bal official y got underway, I snoozed my way to six forty-five.
The dream that had run on replay the entire eight hours Id been racked out made spending the same amount of time with Cora and her merciless beauty regiment seem like a day at summer camp.
The dream had started out good; great, actual y. I was moving towards a tuxedoed Wil iam, facing away from me in an endless sea of blowing wheat. There was an unfamiliar face smiling at me as I marched towards them, hands clasped between a smal book. I looked down; I was wearing an elaborate dress that looked more like a cupcake frosted with glitter. Cora had obviously had a very prominent position in dress selection.
However, there was no room for me to feel anything but elation that the moment had come at last. Wil iam and I were minutes away from being tied to one another in the most eternal kind of way.
I gave up on walking, breaking into a run over the remaining distance keeping us apart”I wasnt about to let my pastry of a dress stop me. Id no more come to a stop at the absent alter as Wil iam turned to me. He was smiling, like it was the happiest day of his existence . . . but it wasnt his mouth or his nose or his eyes”those eyes Id memorized so long ago they were more familiar than my own. Wil iams dark hair faded to a pale blond, fal ing straighter and longer until the man standing before me held nothing left of the man I loved.
Forever, Patrick said, drawing my hands into his.
And thats where the nightmare stopped, rewinding back to me walking clueless down the organic aisle towards the wrong man. This was exactly the thing I didnt need right now. Whatever confidence Id mustered up this morning had vanished, leaving me behind with more uncertainty and near panic than Id felt yet.
I couldnt jump out of bed fast enough, not sure Id ever return to it, just in case it was infected with bad dreams. Thankful Id showered earlier, perhaps knowing it was likely Id sleep late, I rushed to the closet, flinging open the door. I went straight for the shelving unit where my surplus of jeans hid. My hands fel on empty space. My jaw dropped when I saw not a single pair of jeans was left and I didnt have the typical excuse of not doing laundry to blame. Cora. I growled it like a curse word, just as I found a folded note in place of where my beloved jeans had once always been there for me.
Nice try, Bryn. Put on the dress. Now. Or else youll never see your denim friends again.
Love Ya!
Cora
Dont you grumble at me. Its for your own good. I have to save you from your own fashionflawista tendencies.
I grumbled anyways, col apsing down to the ground in my aggravation. I couldnt handle the gown Cora had hanging from its garment bag in the dead center of my closet. I doubted my ability to make it through the night without having a breakdown of epic proportions. I certainly didnt need the added complication of keeping my breathing minimal thanks to the confines of a too-tiny dress. Wil iam loved me, dress or no dress. I didnt care about what anyone else thought.
The scattered lingerie bags in the back of my closet caught my eye, not because I needed to unwil ingly model any more of it, but because the day Id purchased the mass of it, Id also picked out a new pair of jeans. Cora had been in the kitchen gadget/machinery/weaponry store when I got them, so she couldnt know they were there . . .