“That’s not true,” Rachel drawled. “He’s just being nosey. He doesn’t need to be here.”
“Oh, there’s a need,” Harvard said. “I’m here to make sure you actually buy a damn dress.”
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Samantha gushed as she ran her fingers over a rack of dresses. “All the best people are using this shop right now. The designer’s dresses are in dreadfully high demand. It was a complete nightmare getting you this appointment.” She lowered her voice and continued, “She’s fitted three Hollywood actresses, an Indian princess, and European royalty within the past month alone.”
“I’m sure you went to a lot of trouble,” Rachel said as the sales assistant handed them flutes of champagne. At least there was something decent to drink. “But was it really necessary? We haven’t even set a date for the wedding. There’s absolutely no hurry to find a dress. Perhaps we could do this another day.”
“Harvard darling,” her mother said, raising her voice, obviously deciding to include Harvard in the conversation after all. “When are you getting married?”
“Soon as possible,” came the deep reply.
Her mother gave her a smug smile.
“That means at least a year or two from now,” Rachel said.
“Don’t be silly.” Samantha pulled out a dress. “It means as soon as we can organize the event. And I think we could easily do that for you within a few months.”
“And who’s being an idiot now?” Rachel demanded before finishing her champagne. “It takes at least a year to plan a wedding.”
“Not if you already have the venue,” her mother chimed in with an irritatingly sweet smile and a wicked sparkle in her eye.
Rachel reached over, took her mother’s champagne from her hand, and drained that too before handing back the glass. Her mother rolled her eyes and set it on the delicate table beside her. “Was that necessary?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Rachel replied. She was beginning to think there wasn’t enough alcohol in London to get her through this shopping trip.
“Of course, you’ll be married at Talbot House,” Samantha said. “Which means we already have in-house caterers and a wedding planner we can use. Music shouldn’t be a problem. You can always get Jonathan’s wife to play her cello, or I’m sure she’d bring her quartet. Although we have enough connections between us to attract someone with more celebrity appeal if that’s what you want. And flowers can be sourced locally or from the estate gardens.” Her eyebrows went up. “What else is there?”
“Uh, a license? Someone to officiate? Rings? Harvard’s family? A reception?” And how about some time to get used to the idea? Only last week, the wedding had been fake, and that had only changed a few days earlier. Surely, she could be afforded a minute to let that sink in.
“We can use the ballroom at the house for the reception.” Her mother looked over at Samantha, who held a dress in front of her while posing in the mirrors. “I wouldn’t mind having something other than cello music though. Isn’t Elton free?”
“He’s on tour, Aunt Fran.”
“Elton who?” Harvard’s voice came through the curtain. “Elton John?”
“Of course, Elton John,” Samantha said with a laugh. “Your fiancé’s so delightfully…ordinary, isn’t he? You are so lucky.”
“I know.” Rachel narrowed her eyes at her cousin. “And he’s taken. We talked about this, remember?”
Samantha grinned widely. “What happened to that pinky promise we made as children? Didn’t we agree to share everything?”
“That was only because you wanted to get your grubby little hands on my pony, and I was too young to see through you.” She’d been ten, and Samantha a far wiser twelve. The pony ended up living at Sam’s family home, and Rachel learned the hard way never to make pinky promises with her cousin.
“How about this one?” Samantha held up a dress that had more lace than a curtain in a council flat.
“It looks like something Scarlett O’Hara would wear while running into the firing guns of the Confederate Army.”
There was a loud male groan. “Scarlett was on the side of the Confederacy. She would have run into the guns of the Union soldiers. Our kids are gonna grow up ignorant.”
Rachel’s mother giggled like a teenager. “I do like your fiancé. He’ll make a very entertaining addition to the family.”
“Speaking of children.” Samantha held up an equally awful dress, making Rachel shake her head. “Are you planning to stay on at TayFor once you start a family?”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “We only just got engaged.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to say engaged?” her mother said. “Say betrothed, or promised in marriage, or anything other than engaged. Engaged is what happens to a toilet cubicle when it’s occupied.”
A chuckle rumbled through the room from Harvard. Great, at least one of them was having fun.
“This one,” Samantha said as she held up a mermaid-style dress.
Rachel shook her head. “That’s more you than me.”
“Do you think?” She studied it, then beamed at them. “I’m trying it on.” She disappeared into the changing area.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” her mother said with a smile.
No, it hadn’t. Rachel lowered her voice and frowned at her mother. “Why are you torturing me like this? We only just told you this morning that the engagement was real. Did we have to jump into planning today?”
Her mother’s hand covered hers. “Yes. We did. Sam had set up the appointment, and we needed some light relief. Face it, darling, you never seem to have enough fun in your life.” Her eyes turned sad.
And Rachel hated seeing that look in her mother’s eyes. “Fine, I suppose I can try on one dress.”
“That’s my girl.” Her mother patted her hand.
As Rachel made her way across the thick white carpet to the dress rack, Samantha stepped from the changing area. The dress fit like a glove and was perfect on her.
“You look stunning.” Her mother was awestruck.
Samantha twirled. “Isn’t it glorious?”
“You should buy it.” Rachel was completely serious. “I doubt you’ll find another dress that needs so few alterations and suits you as well as that one does.”
Sam brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and gave Rachel a wide-eyed, innocent look that instantly aroused her suspicions. “Do you know what would set it off beautifully? The Talbot locket.”
Rachel’s hand went to the place on her throat where the locket should have been. The locket Sam had been trying to get her grubby little hands on since they were children. The one Rachel hadn’t seen since she’d scratched it from her throat. “You never know, Sam, one of these days, I might cave and give it to you.” But then she’d just have to look at it around Sam’s neck instead of her own, and the memories it evoked would still be the same. No, it was better off in Benson Security’s safe. One day, she’d deal with it, but not today.