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Authors: Margaret Tanner

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BOOK: Make Love Not War
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Bryce had organized a car for them, but by the time it arrived ten minutes late, Caroline’s stomach churned with anxiety.

“We’re going to be late,” Andy remarked.

“Too bad, it’s not our fault,” Kerry said. “Let Harrington sweat it out a bit. He probably messed up the arrangements.”

Bryce never messed up anything, except for getting her pregnant. He certainly wouldn’t have planned that little episode. Caroline would stake her life on it. She grabbed Andy’s hand and clung to it.

 

***

 

Bryce waited in the front of the chapel with his parents. He wore a dark suit and a white shirt. He glanced around the empty chapel. He could just about kill for a cigarette. Where was Caroline? They were late. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was tardiness. What if she jilted him at the altar? His gut clenched.

His mother looked regal in a floating chiffon dress in a pale peach color with a cream hat and matching accessories.

 

***

 

Iris Harrington sat in the front pew. She had come to the church under sufferance and made sure Bryce knew it. She pursed her lips as she waited for the bride to arrive. How her own flesh and blood, could let a thing like this happen to him was beyond comprehension. Hadn’t she presented him with the most socially eligible girls in Melbourne? He continually thumbed his nose at them, only to be trapped into marriage by some insignificant little typist.

How would she face her friends over their morning cocktails? The humiliation! This chit had even dared to cast aspersions on Bryce’s suitability as a husband. Any slight against her flesh and blood she took as a personal insult. As for this degrading hole-in-the-corner wedding. Didn’t Bryce once describe Caroline Dennison as a prim little mouse?
He was p
robably having this quiet, secretive little ceremony because he felt ashamed of her. This thought gave her a grim satisfaction.

Of course, the marriage could be dissolved after the child’s birth. Maybe that’s what he planned, unlike Bryce to let anyone force his hand. Yes that must be it. She breathed a sigh of relief that the Harringtons were in complete control of the situation. Just as it should be.

 

***

 

Alexander Harrington sat next to his wife in the front row of the church.

He glanced at her several times but couldn’t read what was going on in her mind. Plenty of conflicting thoughts, if the changing expression on her face was any indication. He wore a lightweight gray suit with a blue shirt and his favorite tie. This should have been a happy occasion, but Bryce looked positively savage as he balanced on the edge of the pew.

He glanced around the chapel. Yes, the old place brought back a lot of memories. He had been married here himself, and he hoped the child would be a boy so it could attend here, too. He rather fancied the idea of seeing the principal and enrolling his grandson.

He smiled at the pleasant thoughts swirling around in his head. If it was a girl, she could attend the girls’ college. Iris had gone there, as had the daughters of most of his friends. Would any of them know Caroline?

He could picture himself walking into his club with his grandson trotting beside him. He had become heartily sick of his business friends boasting about their grandchildren, ramming their various exploits down his throat all the time. In a while it would be his turn. He savored the thought like vintage wine.

 

***

 

Bryce sat staring straight ahead.

If they didn’t hurry, he would get up and walk out and damn the lot of them. He clenched his fist in his coat pocket. Why couldn’t people smoke in church? It wasn’t as if he intended to drop ash on the carpet or anything.

He glanced at Russell, who had been one of his closest friends at school. Imagine old Russ becoming a minister, married with a couple of kids, too. Damn Caroline! This waiting was driving him crazy.

His gaze settled on the Honor Rolls along one wall. He perused the names under 1914-18 and spotted Dennison three times. Probably Caroline’s relations. Two had been killed in action apparently, as they had gold stars beside their names.

On the 1939-45 roll, Dennison appeared twice, with stars against both names. Andrew Dennison had won a bravery award. What a tragedy! Two generations of the family virtually wiped out by war. Pride surged through him when he spotted the name Alexander Harrington.

He had never given much thought to the war, but he remembered his father saying he’d fought in the Middle East and the Pacific. Not that he ever spoke much about the war. He was in fact quite reticent about it, although his mother said the old man was an officer. Damn it, where the hell was Caroline?

The Harringtons had donated an honor board for ex-students serving in Vietnam, and already there were a few names on it. Only one had a star against his name, though.

Captain Simon Alford. Poor old Fatty. They hadn’t been close friends, but their lockers were next to each other in the last two years at school. Everyone called Simon “Fatty” not because he was fat but because he was so thin. Even in the fourth form he stood over six feet tall.

He stared at the door. Still no sign of them. He’d give them a piece of his mind when they arrived. That young Andy probably thought it amusing to have him cooling his heels. He wasn’t a patient man, he would be the first to admit it, but this would try the patience of a saint.

He was debating the legal ramifications if he got up and walked out, when Russell said quietly, “They’re here.”

He stood up on Russell’s signal. Chancing a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw Kerry. What was she doing here? If ever a female got his back up, it was her. Bad enough getting married, but having her here, he quite honestly didn’t know how her boyfriend put up with such a shrew.

He watched as the two of them took a seat on the opposite side of the church from him. Where the hell was Caroline? No wonder she was late. Kerry probably instigated the delay on purpose. He didn’t much care what Caroline did after their marriage, but Kerry was one female he didn’t want her associating with.

“She’s arrived,” Russell said.

“About time,” he snapped, before he could stop himself. He chanced a glance over his shoulder, watching his mother crane her neck.

Young Dennison certainly looked well in his uniform. What a fine-looking boy. A shaft of sunlight bouncing off one of the stained-glass windows momentarily enveloped him in a ghostly aura.

A cold rush of dread chilled his body. This boy would soon be heading off to the jungles of Vietnam. Was his name destined to appear on the honor board with a star against it, like poor Fatty? Get a grip on yourself, man. He forced his emotions under control again.

He didn’t know why, but he wanted to watch his bride walking down the aisle. What was wrong with him? Why should he care what she looked like? He argued with himself. He was only marrying her because he had no choice
, d
oing the honorable thing, as men of his father’s generation would say.

When Caroline was nearly up to him, he glanced over his shoulder again and caught his breath. She looked exquisite. Her hair had bleached silver blonde, thanks to the sun. Her huge eyes were over-bright, her skin white and smooth as porcelain. She started trembling. He should smile, give her some kind of encouragement, but he couldn’t. Damn it all, she had kept him waiting, hadn’t she?

She suddenly baulked and Andy almost pushed her to his side. Russell started the service. It was brief, just the bare necessities. He had warned Russ to cut out all the usual sentimental mumbo-jumbo.

He fumbled in his pocket for the ring and laid it on the Bible to be blessed. When it came time to slip the ring on Caroline’s finger, her hand shook. He was shocked to notice a fine tremor to his own hand, also.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Thank goodness. It was all over. A couple of signatures, and that would be the end of it. It suddenly registered that Russell stared at him with a weird expression on his face.

“You may now kiss the bride.” He repeated the words slowly, distinctly.

“What? Of course.”  Bryce put his hands on Caroline’s shoulders and brushed her lips with his own. Russell gave him another strange look. What was wrong with him? Did Russell expect him to take Caroline in his arms and really kiss her? He had to be kidding. A few chaste kisses on the mouth wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him once he tasted her soft sweetness.

They trouped out to the vestry to sign the register. His parents, Andy, Kerry and the boyfriend came, too, and he introduced everyone. His mother scrutinized Caroline, desperate to find some flaw in her appearance. He grinned to himself. He didn’t know why, but Caroline’s appearance pleased him. She’d picked her outfit well. Not showy or outrageous, just understated good taste.

“Well, my dear.” Bryce watched his father come up to Caroline. “You’ll have to call me Dad from now on.” He kissed her cheek. “I always wanted a daughter, and now I’ve got one.” He was definitely the happiest person in the vestry, no question about it.

“How are you, Caroline?” His mother spoke in aristocratic tones. She used different voices for different occasions. “You can call me Iris. Now, you’re Andrew, aren’t you?”  She turned towards the young captain.

“Yes, my friends call me Andy, but you can call me Andrew.”

Bryce winced, but his mother didn’t pick up the snub.

“Well, my boy, you’ve done it.” His father came up and slapped him on the back, completely overdoing the jocularity bit. “I’ve booked a table for us at Sebastian’s.”

“You what?” His mother took the words right out of his mouth.

“We have to celebrate. You’ll come won’t you, Kerry, Trevor?”

“No, thanks, Mr. Harrington we can’t stay. We have to go out. We only wanted to give Caro some moral support.” Kerry answered, shooting Bryce a triumphant look.

“What a shame you’ve got a prior engagement,” he drawled, lying through his teeth. He caught Kerry’s eye, and she knew damn well he was glad they weren’t coming.

He watched them kiss Caroline goodbye, shake hands with everyone else and prepare to leave.

“May I kiss the groom?” Kerry smirked up at him. Bryce ground his teeth. Because his father and everyone else seemed to expect it, he touched her lips briefly with his own.

“I expect to be Godmother,” she said, firing one last parting shot.

He nearly choked with rage. She would have to be the most infuriating female God ever put breath into.

They trouped outside to the car. The Jaguar was roomy enough for the five of them to fit in comfortably. Bryce drove to the restaurant and parked in the car park. This exclusive basement restaurant was one of his father’s favorites.

Caroline’s hand felt icy cold when he touched it. He stared into her face and her pallor worried him. “You okay?” He didn’t mean to sound abrupt, but it came out that way.

“Yes.”

“If you want to be sick, just say so.”

“I won’t disgrace you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She sounded weary, somehow sad.

“I wasn’t worrying about that. I’m worried about you.”  It was true. He did feel anxious about her welfare. “If you’re not well, we can give this farcical wedding feast a miss.”

“You okay, Sis? You look crook.”

Bryce watched his mother wince.

“Don’t they teach you to speak correctly at the Military Academy, Andrew?” She didn’t even try to hide her disdain.

They were walking down the steps by this time. Would his father be all right? Hadn’t he read somewhere about st
airs
being bad for heart victims, but his father didn’t look like he had a worry in the world. He was enjoying himself, only person who was.

They arrived inside the foyer of the restaurant and the Maitre de hurried over to greet them. 

“My son has just got married and this is his pretty bride,” his father announced and Bryce could have sunk through the floor. Every head in the restaurant swiveled towards them.

They were escorted to a table set with a white lacy tablecloth. Red candles in carved silver holders gave out a subdued flickering glow. He held the chair out for Caroline, suppressing a smirk as Andy did the same for his mother.

“Just a little something we learned at the Academy.”

“Andy, stop it,” Caroline admonished him. “He’s only teasing Mrs., um, I mean, Iris.”

They had seafood crepes for an appetizer and pork fillets with sour cream as their main course. Two bottles of champagne rested in silver, ice-filled buckets. There was also a dish of chicken fillets, floured and grilled, and fresh garden salad. Thank goodness Caroline ate all of her meal. He didn’t know why, but it pleased him. Of course, he didn’t want her being sick. Pregnant women needed to eat to stay healthy. Now that the formalities were over, he felt quite hungry himself. The food tasted superb, as always.

Dessert consisted of brandy-snap baskets filled with glazed wild berries.

Bryce, mellowed by the food, smilingly encouraged Caroline to eat the delicious fare.

“Caro.” Andy tapped her on the hand. “I don’t want to spoil the evening, but this time next week I’ll probably be in Vietnam.”

BOOK: Make Love Not War
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