Rich (Benson Security 5)

“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.

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nbsp; “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.