English Girl in New York (18 page)

‘You go on to the church,' he said. ‘Explain why I'm not with you. Make them realise I had no choice.'

‘What?
Don't be daft. You've got to go through with it now.'

‘I can't. You've just made me understand that.'

‘Dan! Don't you dare— Come back.'

But Dan had slammed the door and begun to run.

‘Wait here,' Jackson told the chauffeur, scrambling out of the car. ‘Dan! Come back.
Come back.
'

But Dan was running fast, darting in and out of the traffic which had started to move again. He reached the other side of the road and vanished down an alley. Jackson raced after him as fast as he could, nearly being hit by a car. But when he reached the street it was empty.

‘Dan!' he yelled. ‘You can't do this.
Please!
'

There was no answer.

‘Where are you?' he cried. ‘Don't hide from me. Let's talk.'

He tore along the road, searching everywhere but without result.

‘I didn't mean it!' he shouted. ‘Not the way it came out. I spoke without thinking but I never meant— Don't do this.'

He ran up and down for a few more minutes before facing facts.

‘Oh, no!' he groaned. ‘This can't be happening. But it is, and I'm to blame. It'll be my fault if— Oh, what have I done?
What have I done?
'

Windows were opening above him. He made a hasty exit, returning to the car and throwing himself into the back seat. ‘Go on to the church,' he growled.

At last the building came in sight, and he groaned again as he saw the excited crowds and the cameras.

‘Not here,' he said hastily. ‘Go around the back.'

He slid down low, hoping not to be seen, and didn't sit up again until they reached the back of the church. He paid the chauffeur, adding a generous tip and putting his finger over his lips. Then he hurried through a rear door as fast as he could.

In seven years of making documentaries Jackson had many times had to screw up his courage. He'd faced lions, swum in dangerously deep water, and talked into cameras from great heights. But none of those things had made his stomach churn as much as the thought of the next few minutes.

He tried to tell himself that Freya would cope well. She was a trained nurse and a strong, efficient, determined young woman, not a wilting violet. But a voice in his mind wouldn't let him get away with that.

You're just telling yourself what you want to believe. This is going to devastate her, and it's your fault, so stop trying to make it easy on yourself.

As he slipped quietly into the main body of the church he saw the family gathered in the front pews. Travis looked up and gestured for him to approach.

‘What's up?' he asked as Jackson neared. ‘Where's the groom?'

‘He's not coming. He changed his mind at the last minute and dashed out of the car. I tried to follow but I lost sight of him.'

‘What do you mean?' demanded Janine. ‘He can't just dump my daughter with the wedding about to start.'

‘I'm afraid that's what he's done. It seems he's always had doubts and suddenly they crushed him.'

Before anyone could say more the organ burst into the melody of ‘Here Comes The Bride.'

‘Oh, no!' Jackson groaned.

‘There they are,' said Darius. ‘Oh, heavens. What a disaster!'

Everyone stared to the end of the aisle, where Amos could clearly be seen with Freya on his arm. Jackson cursed himself for his clumsiness. He should have waited outside for the car and told them the truth there. Then Freya could have returned home at once, without having to make the humiliating trip down the aisle.

He thought of hurrying forward, approaching her now before she came any closer, but she was already in the spotlight. Or at least Amos was. People recognised him. Some waved to him. Some slipped into the aisle to greet him. Jackson had no choice but to wait, suffering agonies of impatience, his eyes fixed on Freya.

For a moment he almost believed that this was somebody else. The strong, sensible young woman who lived in his mind had vanished, replaced by a girl in a glamorous white satin dress. Her fair hair, normally straight, had been curled into an exotic creation and covered by a lace veil that trailed down almost to the floor.

There was a glow about her that he'd never seen before. She was smiling as though fate had brought her to a blissful destination. It made her look exactly as a happy bride ought to look, and Jackson closed his eyes, sickened by what was about to happen.

As they neared him and saw that Jackson was alone, Amos began to frown.

‘Where's the groom?' he rasped. ‘Why isn't he with you?'

‘Shh!' Freya silenced him with a finger over her lips. ‘He must have slipped away to the Gents. He'll be here in a moment.' She gave Jackson a teasing smile. ‘I expect he had a bit too much to drink last night, didn't he?'

Her good nature was almost too much for him to bear. How could Dan not have wanted to marry this sweet creature?

‘I'm afraid there's been a problem,' he said in a low voice. ‘Dan isn't here. He's—he's not coming.'

‘What do you mean?' Freya asked. ‘Is he ill? Oh, heavens, I must go to him.'

‘No, he's not ill,' Jackson said. ‘I'm sorry, Freya, but he changed his mind at the last minute. He got out of the car and ran. I don't even know where he is now.'

‘He ran?' Freya whispered. ‘To get away from me? Oh, no!' She withdrew her hand from Amos's arm and faced Jackson. ‘But why?'

‘He lost his nerve,' Jackson said uneasily.

The words seemed to swirl in Freya's head, meaningless yet full of monstrous meaning.

‘What—what do you mean—lost his nerve?' she stammered. ‘It doesn't take nerve to—to—'

To marry someone you love
. The words were on the tip of her tongue, yet some power stopped her from saying them.

Jackson understood and struggled for an answer.

‘It's a big occasion,' he managed. ‘Some men can't cope.'

But Dan was used to big occasions, and they both knew it. Freya's look of disbelief told Jackson he'd have to do better than that.

‘Why?' she said fiercely. ‘What really happened?'

‘He just—couldn't cope suddenly.'

Freya swung away from him, trying to cope with the feelings that stormed through her. Pain, disbelief, disillusion, humiliation all fought for supremacy. Humiliation won.

Dan had charmed her, filled her grey world with light and made her feel special—the kind of woman that other women envied. Now he was knocking her down in the eyes of the world. She clenched her hands into fists, holding them up against her eyes and emitting a soft groan.

Behind her Jackson said, ‘Freya—' reaching out to touch her, but she pulled away.

‘I'm all right,' she said, dropping her hands.

He didn't believe it for a moment, but he respected her determination to appear strong.

Amos was in a stew, growling, ‘Just let me get my hands on him.'

It was on the tip of Jackson's tongue to hurl a bitter accusation at his father, telling him how his actions had been the trigger. With a huge effort at control he fought back the words for Freya's sake.

A murmur was rising from the congregation as they sensed trouble. The vicar drew close and spoke quietly.

‘Perhaps you'd like to come into the back and talk privately?'

Amos reached out to take Freya's hand but Jackson was there first, slipping his arm around her and leading her away to where there were no curious eyes. The family followed them.

When they were safely in the back room Jackson repeated the story, keeping hold of Freya's hand, feeling the terrible stillness that had settled over her.

‘Why did he do it?' she whispered. ‘What did he say?'

‘Only that when he came to the point—he just couldn't,' Jackson prevaricated, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

‘I'll kill him,' Amos muttered.

‘Join the queue,' Travis said. ‘We'll all enjoy doing that.'

‘No,' Freya said. ‘This is for me to take care of. I must speak to him. I need a phone.'

‘Not now,' Jackson said quickly.

‘Yes, now,' she said.

Darius produced a cell phone. Freya reached for it but Jackson got there first, seizing her wrist and shaking his head to make his brother back off.

‘Let go of me,' she said. ‘Darius—'

But Darius had read the dark message in Jackson's eyes.

‘He's right, Freya,' he admitted. ‘Not just now. Give yourself a moment first.'

She turned furious eyes on Jackson.

‘You've got a nerve. Who are you to tell me what to do?'

‘I'm your stepbrother who's concerned about you,' he said firmly.

‘And who thinks he can dictate to me. Give me that phone. I must talk to Dan.'

‘Wait. Let me try.'

He didn't know what he was trying to achieve by speaking to Dan first. The situation was already a car wreck. But he took out his own cell phone and dialled the number. There was only silence.

Freya lost patience, seizing the phone from him and dialling again. Still there was no response. She closed her eyes, feeling as though she was surrounded by an infinity in which there was neither light nor sound. Only nothingness. At last she gave up. Her shoulders sagged.

‘He's turned his phone off,' she said bleakly. ‘He really is running away from me. I've got to get out of here. How can I find a way out through the back? I can't go back down the aisle with everyone watching.'

‘Come on,' Jackson said, taking her arm before anyone else in the family could do so and leading her out.

To his relief an exit soon appeared. But his relief was short-lived. His arrival without Dan had been seen and the word had already gone round, both in the congregation and the waiting press. People were gathering at the back of the church, alive with curiosity. When Freya appeared a cry went up.

‘There she is! What happened? Where's the groom?'

‘Get away!' Jackson yelled. ‘Leave her alone.'

He got in front of her, waving his hands to force them back.

‘It's all right,' he said, turning back to her. ‘Freya—Freya?'

She had gone, running away down the street in a way that ironically echoed Dan's escape. For the second time that day Jackson gave chase, this time catching up easily.

‘Go away,' she cried. ‘Leave me alone.'

She turned and would have run again but he seized her shoulders.

‘Let me go.'

‘Freya, I can't do that. Heaven knows what would happen to you. I'm not taking that risk.'

‘It's my risk, nobody else's,' she cried. ‘Do you think I care?'

‘No, but I care.'

‘Let me go!'

‘
No!
I've said no and I mean no, so stop arguing.
Taxi!
'

By great good luck one had appeared. He hustled her inside, gave the driver the address of the hotel where the family was staying, then got into the back and took her into his arms.

‘Let it out,' he said. ‘Cry if you want to.'

‘I'm not going to cry,' she declared.
‘I'm all right.'

But as he held her he knew she was far from all right, perhaps not weeping but shaking violently. He drew her close to him, patting her shoulder but saying nothing. Words would not help now. He could only offer friendship, knowing that even that was feeble against the blow that had struck her.

At last she looked up and he saw her face, pale and devastated.

‘I'm here,' he said. ‘Hold onto me.'

Even as he said it he felt foolish. Yes, he was there, the person whose clumsiness had helped to bring about this disaster. But there was nothing else to say.

At last the hotel came in sight, and at once he knew he had another calamity on his hands. The front was crowded with people watching the street for interesting arrivals.

‘Oh, no!' he groaned. ‘The word's got out already.'

‘And they're waiting for me to come crawling back,' she said. ‘Look, someone's got a camera.'

‘Then they're going to be disappointed,' Jackson said grimly. ‘Driver, there's been a change of plan.' He gave his own address and the car swerved away.

‘They'll never find us at my place,' he said. ‘You can stay until you're safe.'

‘Thank you,' she whispered. ‘But will I ever be safe again?'

‘You will be. I'll see to it. Just hold me. Everything's going to be all right.'

If only he could believe it.

Copyright © 2014 by Lucy Gordon

ISBN: 9781472047588

ENGLISH GIRL IN NEW YORK

© Scarlet Wilson 2014

First Published in Great Britain in 2014
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

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