Mother of the Bride. Caroline Anderson

      MOTHER OF THE

      BRIDE

      Caroline Anderson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘MAISIE.’

      Just the one word, but it curled around her, invading every part of her, swamping her with its gruff warmth. Her heart went into overdrive, her breath stalling at the unaccustomed and yet, oh, so familiar sound of his voice. And then fear kicked in.

      ‘Rob, what is it? What’s happened?’

      ‘Nothing’s happened—yet,’ he said quietly. ‘I just wanted to warn you, Alec’s going to ask Jenni to marry him this evening, and he wanted my blessing. I thought you should know.’

      So the time had come. Maisie’s heart sank. For the last three years, ever since her baby had started dating the gentle, humorous Alec Cooper with his smouldering eyes and teasing sense of fun, she’d been waiting for this moment, and now it was here. Her legs felt like jelly, her heart was pounding, her mouth was dry, and she wanted to scream, ‘No! She’s too young! Don’t let her, she’s not ready …’

      ‘Maisie?’

      ‘I’m OK,’ she said, sitting down abruptly on the edge of the bed. The bed in which she’d given Rob her virginity over twenty-one years ago.

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Sort of. Thank you for warning me, although it would have been nice if Alec had done it,’ she said.

      ‘I know,’ he said, his voice sympathetic. ‘I suggested he should, but he was afraid you’d try and warn Jenni off.’

      ‘Rob, I’m her mother!’

      ‘Exactly. And you have … ‘

      ‘Issues?’ she offered into the silence, and he gave a quiet huff of laughter that clawed at her insides.

      ‘You could put it that way. I told him you’d be upset, but he was very reluctant in case you tried to speak to Jenni, to talk her out of it, because he’s been planning it for ages, apparently, and he was desperate for it to be a surprise.’

      ‘Rob, he should have spoken to me, too. I’m the one who’s brought her up. Or doesn’t my blessing count?’

      His sigh was soft. ‘Maisie, don’t be like that. I asked him to talk to you, he said he’d think about it, but obviously he didn’t feel he could, or he hasn’t been able to get you. He asked me not to tell you until he had time to ask Jenni, and he’s doing that now, as we speak, so I couldn’t tell you any sooner. I gave him my word. You have to respect that.’

      Of course she did. She just felt out of the loop, as usual, at the bottom of the heap when it came to knowing anything, and it hurt. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she lied, but he cut in gently.

      ‘It does—and I’m really sorry. If it helps, he only asked me about four hours ago. And my mother doesn’t know.’

      A small crumb of comfort, but surprisingly perceptive of him to know she’d needed it.

      She closed her eyes and gave a tiny, shaky little laugh. ‘Rob, they’re so young.’

      ‘They’ll be fine. I’m sure Jenni’ll ring you the moment they’re back. It might be nice if you act surprised.’

      She swallowed. ‘Sure—and, Rob … Thank you for warning me.’

      ‘It’s a pleasure,’ he said, his voice low and gruff, and she felt the familiar shiver down her spine.

      How could he still do that to her, after all these years? She should have got over him by now. She said goodbye and replaced the phone in the cradle, and sat staring at the wall blankly. It really was going to happen. Jenni and Alec were getting married, and even though she’d known it was coming, she was still reeling with shock.

      ‘You’re being ridiculous,’ she told herself, and, getting up, she went back over to her wardrobe and carried on the weeding process she’d been engaged in when Rob had called.

      She pulled out a hanger and stared at it blankly. Good grief, how ever long had she had these trousers? Far too long, she hadn’t worn them for years. She dumped them on the growing pile, found a few other things and then realised she’d put her favourite dress on the pile by accident.

      She wasn’t with it at all, she was miles away, in Scotland, with Jenni, praying that common sense would prevail and she’d tell Alec they should wait. Hoping it would work for them. Worried that it wouldn’t, that like their marriage, Jenni’s would prove too frail to stand the test of time.

       They’ll be fine.

      Would they? She didn’t know, but Rob’s deep, warm voice echoed in her ears, and if she let herself, she could almost believe it. But not quite, because he’d said the same thing to her over twenty-one years ago, when he’d asked her to marry him.

      ‘We’ll be fine, Maisie. You’ll see. It’ll be all right.’

      But it hadn’t been. It hadn’t been all right at all, in the end, even though the beginning had been blissful. Stormy, sometimes, but they’d always, always made up after a row, and sometimes she wondered if they’d had fights just for the hell of it, so they could make up afterwards. She laughed at the memory, but her smile faded and she felt her eyes fill.

      She’d married him not only because she loved him, but also because she’d been eighteen, scared, pregnant, and her family wanted nothing to do with her. Her options had been severely restricted, and she’d thought he loved her as much as she’d loved him, but she’d been wrong. She must have been. If he’d loved her, he’d have come after her, but he hadn’t, so she’d concluded sadly that he’d only married her out of duty, when they’d hardly known each other— certainly not well enough to weather the birth of Jenni while he was away at sea and she was alone in Scotland with his less-than-enthralled parents.

      It wasn’t really surprising that it hadn’t worked, under the circumstances. They’d been children, out of their depth in the welter of emotions they’d encountered, coping with a situation that would have challenged anyone. And when she couldn’t bear it any more up there without him, when she’d left Scotland and come back down here to Cambridge, he’d done nothing about it, to her horror and distress. There had just been a terrible, deafening silence.

      He hadn’t come to her when he’d had his next shore leave, as she’d expected, hadn’t tried to find out what was wrong, but had said nothing, done nothing for six whole months except send money to her account. She’d taken it because she’d had no choice, and she’d written to him begging him to come to her, to talk to her—anything, but there’d been no reply, and then at last there had been a letter asking for access to Jenni in their divorce settlement—a divorce that hadn’t even been on her agenda until he’d broached the subject. Shocked, devastated, she’d agreed to everything he’d asked,