His Very Convenient Bride. Sophie Pembroke

eased the ring down to her knuckle, where it promptly got stuck. His gaze flashed to hers and she gave him what she hoped was an imperceptible shake of the head.

      He understood, thank goodness. His fingers moved down to the base of her finger, but the ring stayed jammed where it was. With a sunny smile, Helena withdrew her hand and hid it in the folds of her dress. She’d ease it further on later, if she could. Otherwise she’d sneak up to her room and find some other ring to serve for the time being.

      Flynn’s ring slipped on with no problems, of course, since he was actually supposed to be there getting married today. And suddenly the priest was pronouncing them husband and wife and it was all over. Helena blinked out at the applauding crowd and felt grateful that the line ‘You may now kiss the bride’ seemed to appear more often in movies than at actual weddings.

      She was married now. And she did realise that the chances were she’d have to kiss her husband, sooner or later.

      It was just that she was voting for later. When her emotions and thoughts weren’t spinning like a tornado. When she could sit quietly for a moment and figure all this out, and think about what would happen next.

      When she’d had time to prepare herself.

      With her hand tucked into the crook of Flynn’s elbow, hiding the ill-fitting wedding ring, Helena walked back up the aisle she’d walked down as a single woman. As Helena Morrison.

      Now she was Helena Ashton.

      She was pretty sure she would never get used to that.

      Helena fought to keep her expression bright and happy, tilting her head to brush against Flynn’s shoulder as they walked.

      ‘Nearly there,’ he murmured as they approached the back of the church. ‘Almost over.’

      Except it wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

      The Tuscan sunlight stung her eyes and her skin as they emerged from the cool shade of the chapel. They only had a few moments before everyone else followed, so Helena ripped her hand from Flynn’s arm and began to twist Thea’s wedding ring over her knuckle. If only she had some hand cream in her bag. Or even her bag.

      Brides travelled light, it seemed.

      With a pop, the ring slid past the knuckle and into place, and Helena exhaled with relief. One problem down, who knew how many more to go.

      As the guests emerged, Helena plastered her best social smile back on to her face. Which, as the first person out was Ezekiel Ashton, was a bit of a waste.

      ‘What, exactly—?’ the old man started, only to be cut off by his wife.

      ‘Not here,’ Isabella said, her voice quiet but sharp. Helena had no doubt that there would be long discussions about what had occurred that day, but Isabella wouldn’t have them happening in front of the guests. ‘We have the photos to get through.’

      ‘Forget the photos,’ Ezekiel said. ‘What do we need photos for?’

      ‘The papers, apart from anything else,’ Isabella answered promptly. ‘This is still the wedding of the season, regardless of who actually got married.’ Her voice dropped low for the last half of the sentence and Helena winced.

      Photos. Helena’s smile slipped at the thought until Isabella glared at her and she forced it back into place. Where apparently it would stay for the next hour or more, while the semi-famous photographer Isabella had flown over from the States took endless shots of her and Flynn looking happy and slightly shell-shocked.

      Oh, well. Wasn’t that how all brides and grooms looked on their wedding day?

      * * *

      An hour of endless fake smiles later, Helena’s face ached. Still, photos over and done with, she kissed the cheek of the next guest in the reception line, wishing she’d made everyone wear name tags for the occasion. She might know the guest list backwards after helping to put it together, but putting faces to those memorised names was another matter entirely.

      Thea would have known them, though. Thea would have wined and dined them as clients in the past, would already have asked them questions about their kids or their pets. No wonder they were all looking at Helena with such confusion and curiosity. She wasn’t what they’d expected, or wanted.

      She was kind of used to that.

      Beside her, Flynn seemed totally at ease, chatting happily with every person who came past. He, at least, seemed pleased with how the day had turned out.

      ‘Such a beautiful day,’ a woman in a green hat said, fake smile making it clear that she might well be talking about the weather rather than the wedding.

      ‘Wasn’t it?’ Isabella said, ignoring the false undertone. ‘We’re all just so delighted to be one happy family at last.’

      ‘I’m sure,’ Mrs Green Hat replied. ‘Although you do seem to be missing a couple of members right now!’

      Isabella’s tinkling laugh gave away nothing. ‘Oh, well, we have everyone who really matters right here, don’t we?’

      ‘I suppose so. Except you do seem to be missing a best man, at least.’ Good grief, the woman was relentless! ‘I heard Zeke was home for the wedding, and I was so looking forward to seeing him. Such a bright young man.’

      Isabella’s expression froze at that, her grin nudging towards a rictus. Leaning between them, Helena plastered on what she hoped was an apologetic smile. ‘I’m so sorry to hurry you along, but I’m afraid the line is already out of the door and people are more than ready for the wedding breakfast, I’m sure. Perhaps you and Isabella can catch up a little later?’

      Mrs Green Hat looked a little sour at the interruption, as if too much lemon had been squeezed in her gin and tonic, but she nodded politely anyway. No one argued with the bride on her wedding day, did they?

      ‘Of course. Isabella, I look forward to talking with you and both your sons later.’ She stalked off towards the dining room, not even bothering to acknowledge Thomas at the end of the line, which Helena thought was just plain rude, thank you very much. Although, quite honestly, Thomas probably deserved it today. But Mrs Green Hat didn’t know that.

      Now, if she’d avoided Ezekiel, who continued to glower at every single person he spoke to, she could understand it.

      It took forever, but eventually the last of the guests paraded past them and into the dining room. Ezekiel immediately disappeared in the direction of his study without so much as a by-your-leave, but Helena wasn’t complaining.

      In fact, she let out a sigh of relief and slipped her feet out of her heels for a moment, letting the cool stone floor soothe her toes.

      ‘I don’t understand why Thea couldn’t at least leave her shoes and veil if she had to run out on us at the last moment.’ Isabella peered critically at the bright pink shoes lying on the floor. Thomas must have filled her in on the events of the day, Helena supposed. ‘It would be common courtesy, really.’

      Rather than not actually running out on her wedding in the first place, Helena supposed. Isabella always did obsess about the details. It wasn’t the first time she’d missed the big picture because of it.

      ‘I like the pink ones,’ she said, partly just to annoy her new mother-in-law.

      ‘So do I, actually,’ Flynn said, standing beside her, and she flashed him a huge smile. Maybe this was why people got married—to have someone on their side when they had to deal with their parents. She’d heard of worse reasons.

      Thomas, with a weary sigh, lowered himself into an armchair at the edge of the hallway. ‘I suppose we should have known. It’s not like she didn’t have form. I wonder where they are now.’ He stared out of the open front door as he spoke and Helena couldn’t help but follow his gaze.

      ‘Zeke and Thea?’ Isabella asked. ‘God only knows. Probably off somewhere trying to find new ways to destroy our