Now thats my kind of thanks. Catch you girls later.
Not if I catch you first, Cora grumbled, handing me the trench coat. Sorry about that.
You defended my honor. Thanks, Cora, I said, stil feeling the flush in my face and neck from Patrick finding me sans clothing, wishing he would have found me in my usual underwear, for he would have pierced his eyes out with hot pokers if he walked in on me in those. Cotton on women was Patricks kryptonite.
Cora helped me into the trench coat; again, a fit so perfect the cuffs even hit in the right spot of my freakishly long arms. How are you doing? she asked, her inability to look me in the eyes leaving nothing to interpretation as to what she was referring to.
Im doing my best not to think about it, I answered, cinching the belt tight. Because it doesnt matter if I think about being Betrothed to Wil iam or Patrick tonight. Both scenarios drudge up emotions that are so extreme, they handicap me.
Cora gave my hands a squeeze, a sad smile on her face. Do you think he suspects anything? I mean, I know hes been gone since the day after you guys were al but promised by Charles, but talk gets around faster than you can say shameless gossip.
I shook my head. Hes so deliriously happy he couldnt have a clue. I looked up at her. Do you think I should tel him before tonight? The thought of informing Wil iam that I could be promised a forever to Patrick was something on my list of things I never wanted to ever think, let alone speak.
What do you think . . . she stopped, shaking her head. She laid her hand over my heart. What do you feel you should do?
Knowing what I felt was always easier to gauge than what I thought. Too many things could get in the way when you thought something out, things like morals and social responsibility, your prior experiences and others perceptions. Feelings were easier, at least for me, because Wil iam was the center of my universe, what kept the pieces of me in orbit. When I went on my feelings, he was at the core of my consideration, making my decisions easy. A certain part of me wants to tel him so he can be prepared for what could happen. I was tired of saying Patricks and my name in the same breath. I couldnt do it any more. But then another part tel s me theres nothing he could do to prepare himself for that, so why ruin his night?
Cora shot me a look of disbelief.
Its not like we know for sure were not going to be Betrothed tonight, I said, trying to convince her as much as I was myself. Everything might happen just the way he expects.
I know that, Cora replied in her calm voice. I want that just as much as you do. I was only inquiring so I knew what kind of reaction to expect from Wil iam tonight. She grinned, pul ing at the sleeve of my coat. Our ten minute waiting period must be done. So I wont need the few dozen extra security guards until immediately after the Betrothals are cal ed out.
You might not need them at al , I said, feigning offense as she led me out the barn doors. Besides, in case you havent noticed, Wil iams already got his own security duty on his heels twenty-four-seven. Why would you need even more?
We stepped out into the early morning mist, the crispness of the air a welcome relief from the stifling conversation.
Theyre not for Wil iam, Cora said, linking her arm through mine. Theyre for Patrick.
I laughed, even though I knew I should have been crying for letting my mind wander down the Patrick and Bryn Hayward path. Coras own loud, choppy laugh joined mine and I was grateful she was with me. Cora had a gift for infusing laughter into any situation.
Hey-a, Bryn? Patrick said, stepping out from behind the prehistorical y large tree in Charles backyard.
Cora and I skidded to a stop in our surprise, but she recovered faster than I did. Lifting her chin, she ignored him, pul ing me away from his tortured looking face and his disheveled looking clothing.
That got my attention more than anything, Patrick had a strict no wrinkles al owed policy when it came to his designer clothes and the only time Id seen his shirt tails sticking out of his slacks had been . . . wel , never. If I hadnt been so flustered from being caught near-naked by him, I would have noticed then, but he looked drained, like he hadnt slept in days.
Can I have a second? he asked, staring at me. A second alone? His eyes darted to Coras before settling back on me.
What do you need, Patrick? I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
I need to say something to you. He swal owed, sweeping his hand through his hair. Its important.
Ha! Cora grunted. Youve said more than enough already this morning. Holy boobs? she quoted. Real y, Patrick? Real y? She tugged on my arm again, trying to break me from the torture coming from Patricks eyes, keeping me rooted where I was.
Bryn? he whispered, sounding defeated. I wasnt sure which scared me more, Patricks demeanor or his tone.
Not now, Patrick, I said, closing my eyes for a few heartbeats to break his gaze. This time when Cora pul ed at me, I was able to break free of my statue-like state. Later, okay?
What if laters too late? he said, more to himself than to me, but it caused my already considerable resignations for tonights outcome to increase.
Id let too much ruin tonight already, I wasnt going to let anything else. Thats just too damn bad, I cal ed back, feeling more awful than empowered.
Patricks only response was driving his fist into the trees wide trunk.
CHAPTER FIVE
DRESS EVASION
Do you think Pervert, I mean Patrick,”Cora shot me an evil grin as we started up her and Josephs walkway”has heard the rumors?
Patrick and rumors? Dont those two go hand in hand like Patrick and conceit? I said, rol ing my eyes to the gray sky. Hes probably the one that started them.
That would be something hed do, Cora said, coming to a stop. What are you going to do if it is Patrick?