I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d been dressed as a maid in New York. But at least those outfits were black and designed not to draw attention. This is going to cause a stir. Elliot and Alex’s costumes have a similar historical theme, but they’ll look downright cool in their kilts, naturally. I can already imagine the guests pointing and whispering, wanting to take selfies with us.
And I’m not allowed to bring my camera. Jane has hired a world-famous wedding photographer (and videographer) for her big day, and he’s coming with two assistants, so I’m not needed. Plus, my Canon won’t exactly look authentic with my costume.
It’s for Mum, for Mum, for Mum, I keep thinking, over and over.
“You’ll look adorable,” says Elliot, following my gaze and my grimace. “But your mum said you might need some help with the corset, so that’s why I’m here!”
“Ugh!” I say, groaning at the thought of wearing a corset all day.
“Now, now. I do have something else to cheer you up.” He brings out an exquisite gold filigree mask with two red velvet ribbons, one on each side, for ties. I’m stunned and I actually gasp at how beautiful it is. “Since you told me last night you’d be going to the masquerade, I thought you’d better have a proper mask to wear.”
I take it out of his hands, holding it delicately as if it may disintegrate in my fingers at any moment. “It’s gorgeous . . . Where did you get it?”
“Oh, you know me. I always keep something up my sleeve.”
I throw my arms round him. “Thank you!”
“No problem. Now, let’s get this dress on!”
It takes us a good half-hour to put my dress on and tie every lace, ribbon and bow. By the time we’ve finished, I look like a genuine seventeenth-century Scottish lass.
Elliot hurries away as he and Alex have to get ready too, and suddenly Mum’s calling up the stairs, “Penny? Are you ready to go to the castle?” I can tell she’s keyed up as her voice sounds edgy and brisk.
“Coming!” I shout, and I run down the stairs as fast as my cloth slippers allow.
“Oh, Penny, you look amazing!” Mum says. She isn’t in costume. It’s a stunning dove-grey suit for Mum, her wedding-planner finest—suitable for a wedding guest but also comfortable enough for running around solving problems all day.
Andrea, Mum’s assistant, is dressed in character like me. We’re going to be mingling with the guests, adding to the setting as we role-play our historical counterparts, but also solving any problems that come to light—in short, being Mum’s eyes and ears on the floor.
• • •
When we get to the chapel, Andrea’s and my first task is to go round lighting every single candle—and trying not to set fire to our purple velvet skirts in the process. Then it’s not long before the guests start arriving, but we’re too busy helping Mum with last-minute checks to spend long watching them and, as always, the day starts to disappear fast.
As soon as the bride arrives at the door, it’s non-stop for all of us and, before I know it, she’s walking down the aisle, they’re making their vows, the minister is declaring them husband and wife, and they’re walking back outside for the photographs . . .
Somehow, I manage fairly successfully to stay out of Callum’s sight, though he does find me once—and I swear I spot him covering his mouth to suppress a giggle. I consider sticking my tongue out at him, but that wouldn’t be very lady-like.
It’s only after everyone has sat down for the wedding breakfast that Mum and her team of helpers are allowed our first few moments of rest.
Mum’s looking more relaxed now, pleased that the day seems to be going so well. “Go on, Penny,” she says, “you can go off to get changed,” and she scoffs down one of Sadie Lee’s leftover canapés.
“Really?” I ask. “You don’t need any help with the changeover?”
“I think I’ve got it covered. Thank you for all your help today,” and she gives me two big kisses on the cheek. “Now go and have fun. I don’t need you to think about anything else for me, OK?”
I nod, and give her a tight squeeze-hug back. “Thank you, Mum.”
As I slip out of the castle there’s a definite chill in the air. I make my way across the bridge and back to the little cottage and for the first time all day feel thankful for the layers of petticoats under my dress. I pull my tartan shawl closer round my shoulders for warmth.
Back in the cottage, I suddenly realize I don’t know what I’m going to wear to the masquerade ball. I survey my options: I haven’t really brought anything suitable for a ball and only have a simple black dress with me. It’s pretty, with little lacy sleeves in the pattern of roses, but it isn’t grand. Still, it’s the only thing I have.
Then I remember the mask Elliot gave me this morning. I take it out of its tissue-paper wrapping and put it on. It’s a surprise how light it is on my face; the velvet ribbons are soft against my skin and I love the way the gold of the mask offsets the auburn in my hair. I look in the mirror and admire how the mask elevates my dress into a gown worthy of a ball.
You are Autumn Girl, I think. I shake the thought from my head. I don’t want to be Autumn Girl. I don’t want to be just a lyric in a song. I want to be loved for who I am, in a relationship that’s equal.
Maybe Callum will be that person. Maybe not. But does it really matter? I want to be able to make mistakes. I want to throw myself in at the deep end, without worrying about the consequences. I want to make a fool of myself and not be self-conscious.
I smooth down the front of my dress.
“You look so pretty,” says a small voice by the door.
I smile at Bella. “I thought you were supposed to be in bed, little lady,” I say. She’s in her nightie and her feet are bare. Then I sweep her up into my arms.
“I don’t like my room; it’s scary,” she mumbles.
“Well, don’t worry—I’ll be back to protect you before you know it.”
“OK,” she says, leaning her head against my shoulder. “I miss No-no.”
I give a start and my chest tightens, as if a hand is suddenly gripping my heart. Noah. I stroke her hair with my free hand. “I know, Bels. Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Before very long, Bella is snoring gently on my shoulder and her breathing evens out. I carry her back to her room, lay her gently down on her bed and kiss her forehead. As I tiptoe through the living room, I wave at Gemma, Bella’s babysitter for the evening, and put my finger to my lips to signal that she’s asleep. Gemma gives me a thumbs up, and then a double thumbs up for my dress.
I grin back, smoothing the front of the pretty lace.
There’s no more time to lose. I wrap myself up in my coat and scarf, then slip back across the bridge.
Now that night has fallen, the atmosphere of the castle is completely different. Mum has replaced the white candles with the black ones, and red fabric drapes the walls where there had been white before. Jane’s gothic-themed evening is coming to life. I half expect to see a ghost or two drifting through the halls or the suits of armour stretching their metal-clad limbs. I’m glad that Bella, who wouldn’t like this at all, is safely asleep in bed.
I can hear the string quartet playing somewhere and head towards the music. Later there will be a disco, but for now the ambiance is more refined. The laughter of the guests mixes with the haunting music, and I’m glad everyone is having a good time. Mum will be so pleased and relieved.
I step into the dining hall and gasp. It’s been absolutely transformed for the evening. Thousands of candles are set at different heights round the walls and project flickering shadows towards the ceiling. Many of the guests are dancing, waltzing round the dance floor, and those who aren’t are helping themselves to the wonderful buffet laid out by Sadie Lee, admiring the gorgeous half-white, half-black wedding cake. The bride and groom will cut the cake together later in the evening.
“Penny,” a voice says, “there you are.” And Callum steps out from the shadows, hi
s face hidden behind an emerald-green mask. The combination of the mask and his tuxedo makes him so dashing tonight.
“Hi, Callum,” I say with a genuine smile.
“Your mum has really done an amazing job. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jane so happy.”
“Oh, I’m really glad. I’ll tell her.” It’s obvious Callum wants to dance—he’s already swaying slightly to the music—but it’s too slow. I don’t want to dance to something so . . . romantic. I scan the room until I spot Elliot and Alex in a corner. “Hey, do you want to meet my friends?” I ask.
He hesitates, but then shrugs his shoulders. “Sure thing.”
“Great,” I say, taking his hand and leading him over to Alexiot. They’re deep in conversation, lost to the crowd around them, until I manage to catch Alex’s eye. The surprise on his face makes Elliot spin round.
“Penny!” Elliot has a huge grin on his face. “Love the dress.” He gives me two kisses on the cheek and squeezes my arm. “And who’s this?”
Callum stretches out his hand before I can answer. “Callum McCrae.”
“Wonderful to meet you.” Elliot blatantly looks Callum up and down. When Callum turns to shake Alex’s hand Elliot gives me a thumbs up of approval behind his back.
Unfortunately, however, my diversion technique doesn’t last very long, because Callum’s ears suddenly perk up on hearing a change of song. Still a slow one. I suppress my sigh.
“Ready for a dance?” he asks.
“OK,” I say.
“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
He kisses my hand and guides me into the middle of the dance floor.
The music is quite slow, and because I don’t know how to waltz and feel awkward, we end up doing an odd sort of shuffle.
“I really enjoyed our walk yesterday,” he’s saying close to my ear.
“Me too.”
“I hope you don’t mind me telling you, Penny, but I really like you,” he continues, and he laces his fingers through mine. “I . . . I was wondering if you felt the same way.”
I can feel myself blushing beneath my mask and I’m lost for words. His eyes are searching mine, hoping to find his own feelings reflected back . . . but the truth is, I just don’t feel the same way.
“Callum, I . . . I—”
But before I can say another word a hand taps him on the shoulder. He tenses with annoyance and stops dancing, but his hand stays firmly attached to mine.
“Mind if I cut in?” says the voice. An American voice.
My heart flutters then starts beating wildly. It isn’t . . . It can’t be . . .
But it is.
It’s Noah Flynn.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Mind if I cut in?”
Noah’s words ring in my ears.
“Uh, OK,” says Callum. He’s too polite to refuse. His eyebrows join together in a frown beneath his mask. The mask! I whip my head round to look at Noah. He’s wearing a mask too, a black one that covers the top half of his face. Callum doesn’t recognize him. At least, I don’t think he does.
Before I can regain the ability to speak again, Callum has stepped back and Noah’s hand is in mine and his other hand is round my waist. He pulls me away into a spin, but with every turn I can see realization dawning on Callum’s face . . .
“Hi, Pen,” Noah says in almost a whisper, his soft American accent lingering on my ear.
I put my cheek on his shoulder, leaning into his warm embrace and closing my eyes. I feel a wave of goosebumps prickling my skin from top to bottom like an electric current and the crowds of people dancing round us are blurry and out of focus. I’m struck by an eerie sense of calm, of immense relief: he’s OK, nothing bad has happened to him.
“I’ve missed you,” he continues.
I’d forgotten how much I’ve missed him.
Not just as a boyfriend; as my friend too, having him around, the smell of his hair, the touch of his skin . . . OK, so maybe mostly as a boyfriend. I forgot how neatly my head tucks into the crook of his neck, and how comforting his hand is round mine; his fingers, with their tiny calluses from playing guitar, rubbing against my own. The way his smile, with those gorgeous dimples, shows off his perfectly straight teeth; how his big brown eyes crease slightly when his face lights up. I forgot how he smells like rain and leather and a hint of musk.
“I’m back now,” he says.
Then it all comes crashing down on me, like a bucket of ice water tipped over my head. Noah left, with just a single, short note, ignoring all my other messages and texts. He selfishly left me to stew while he swanned off for a break, with no thought for his family or for me . . .
And he shows up now? Just when I was thinking about moving on?
He squeezes my fingers. “Are you going to say something?” he asks.
That’s what breaks me. I stop dancing and step back out of his embrace. I frown, looking up into his warm eyes, but I have to look away again or else I risk losing all my nerve.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
His hands are outstretched towards me, like he wants to bring me back into his embrace, but I don’t step towards him. I fold my arms over my chest. “I wanted to see you,” he says.
It sounds pretty feeble to me. Somewhere behind Noah I sense Callum staring, and the room isn’t a blur anymore. Everything has been pulled back into focus and the music is loud.
“After all this time? You just show up out of the blue and expect everything to be how it was?”
His lips part, but no words come out. I don’t care. I can feel white-hot rage racing through my veins, making my cheeks tingle. How dare he? I can tell Noah’s never seen me like this. He looks . . . stricken.
A comforting hand grips my shoulder. Elliot. “Are you OK, Penny?”
I just shake my head. He turns to look at Noah. “You shouldn’t be here,” Elliot says, much more gently than I would have been able to manage.
“I’m sorry, Penny, I didn’t mean to hurt you . . .” Noah mumbles. I realize I’ve never seen him this way: so apologetic, so afraid of how I’m going to react . . .
I want to tell him to just go away. That I’ll deal with it when we get back home, not in the middle of someone’s wedding. That’s when I look up to see Jane over by her wedding cake, pointing at us, her face crinkled in anger. Callum is next to her. My face drains of colour. “We’re causing a scene,” I say to Noah through gritted teeth.
“Is there somewhere we can go talk?” he asks.
Reluctantly, I nod.
“Are you sure, Penny?” Elliot asks.
“I’m OK, honestly,” I tell him, and force a small smile across my lips.
“Well if you need anything, message me. I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks,” I say.
But we’ve taken too long already. One of the wedding’s security team comes striding over, Callum only a couple of steps behind. The security officer taps Noah on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, but do you have an invitation?”
Noah turns with a start, then straightens his back. “My grandmother is doing the catering.”
“Are you on the official staff list then?”
Noah shuffles his feet. “No . . .”
“Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Now.”
“We were just going,” I say. I lift my eyes to Noah’s briefly. “Come on.”
“You don’t have to go, Penny,” blurts out Callum. “It’s only the gatecrasher who has to leave.”
“I know. But it’s fine. Actually, I’m not feeling that well anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say. Before he can say anything else to try to change my mind, I storm off towards the wide double doors that will lead back out to the entrance of the castle. I don’t even look to see if Noah is following, but I can hear his footsteps echoing along the flagstones behind me as I get farther away from the ballroom.
I push through the heavy wooden doors of the main entrance and stride out onto the bri
dge that leads across to the mainland. It’s raining—typical—and windy, but there wasn’t a chance to grab my jacket before I left the party. I wrap my arms round my body, aware suddenly of the cold. The rain slicks my hair to my cheeks and the wind covers the sound of Noah’s steps behind me.
I jump with a start as he wraps something warm round me. “Here, take my jacket,” he says.
But I shrug it off. “No!” I half shout into the wind. I spin round and stare at him, looking into his eyes as boldly as I can. “You don’t just get to come back here and pretend like everything is OK! You left—and only one stupid note.”
“I know . . .”
“You ignored my messages.”
“I know . . .”
“You even told your grandmother not to contact you. I mean, I know I’m not your girlfriend anymore, but you could’ve at least made sure the people who love you knew you were safe.”
“Penny . . .”
“Why are you even here?” I ask again. I start to shiver, slowly at first, but the water is gathering in the soles of my shoes, and even Noah’s jacket wouldn’t have kept out the bitter coastal wind.
“Give me a chance to explain,” Noah says, “and I’ll tell you everything.”
We stare at each other, and the moment stretches until it seems like it could last a lifetime.
I break eye contact first. “Fine,” I say. “Let’s go inside.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I let us into the house, ushering him towards the living room. “It’s all right, Gemma,” I say, as she looks up from her paperback. “We can look after Bella now. You can take off early if you want.”
“Sure thing.” She looks curiously at Noah, but doesn’t say anything. I know she’s heard a lot about Sadie Lee’s infamous grandson, but she’s too good an assistant to mention anything. “See you tomorrow,” she says, throwing on her coat and heading out into the rain.
There’s a low fire in the hearth, and Noah kneels down in front of it, adding more logs and coaxing it back to life. I sit on the sofa, shivering uncontrollably. I pull the faux-fur throw draped over the back of the sofa round me, sighing as I loosen up into its warmth.