Cometh the Hour (The Clifton Chronicles 6)
“How very sensible, my dear.”
“I thought the ceremony went rather well,” said Virginia, wanting to change the subject.
“I agree, but I do wish Cyrus had married Ellie May twenty years ago. It was what both families had always planned.”
“Then why didn’t he?”
“Cyrus was always shy. He didn’t even ask Ellie May to be his date for the school prom, so he lost out to Wayne Halliday. Wayne was the school’s star quarterback and, frankly, he could have had any girl he wanted, and probably did. But she let him sweep her off her feet and, let’s face it, it can’t have been her looks that first attracted him to Ellie May.”
“Where’s Wayne now?”
“I have no idea, but with the settlement he ended up with, he’s probably lounging on a South Sea island drinking piña coladas, surrounded by skimpily clad maidens.”
Virginia didn’t need to ask who Wayne Halliday’s lawyer was. She had followed the case in the State-Times with great interest and been impressed with the size of the settlement Mr. Trend had pulled off on behalf of his client.
The bus swung off the road and drove through a vast set of wrought-iron gates before proceeding down a long drive lined with tall pine trees that led to a massive colonial mansion surrounded by hundreds of acres of manicured lawns.
“What’s Cyrus’s ranch like?” asked Virginia.
“About the same size, I would guess,” said Winifred. “So he didn’t have to bother with a prenup. A marriage made not in heaven, but on the New York Stock Exchange,” she added with a smile.
The bus came to a halt outside a vast Palladian mansion. Virginia climbed off and joined the long line of guests who were having their invitations carefully checked. When she reached the front of the queue, she was handed a small white envelope by a woman who seemed to know exactly who she was.
“You’re on table six,” she whispered. “No one there for you to worry about.”
Virginia nodded and followed the other guests into the house. A row of white-jacketed waiters holding trays of champagne created a path all the way to the ballroom where a lunch for four hundred was waiting to be served. Virginia studied the layout of the room like a Grand National jockey considering which fences might bring him down.
A long table, clearly reserved for the family and their most important guests, ran down one side of the room. In front of it was a dance floor and, beyond that, forty circular tables filled the rest of the room. Virginia was still taking all this in when a gong sounded and a toastmaster dressed in a red tailcoat announced, “Please take your places so we can all welcome the family and their distinguished guests.”
Virginia went in search of table six, which she found on the edge of the dance floor, right in front of the top table. She introduced herself to the two middle-aged men seated on either side of her. It turned out that like her, they were cousins, but of the Grants, not the Campbells. Buck Trend clearly wasn’t taking any chances.
No sooner was everyone seated than they were on their feet again to applaud the bride and groom, who were accompanied by their parents, brothers and sisters, the best man, the bridesmaids and several distinguished guests.
“That’s our governor,” said the man on Virginia’s right, “Hayden Rankin. Mighty fine fellow, much admired by the folks of Louisiana.” But Virginia was more interested in the seating at the top table. Although she had a clear view of Cyrus, she doubted he would spot her on the other side of the dance floor. How was she going to attract his attention without it being too obvious?
“I’m a cousin of Ellie May,” she eventually replied as they sat back down. “And you?”
“My name’s Nathan Grant. I’m a cousin of Cyrus, so I guess we’re now kith and kin.” Virginia couldn’t think of a suitable response. “Is your husband with you?” Nathan asked politely.
Another question Virginia hadn’t anticipated. “No, I’m afraid he’s attending a business conference he couldn’t get out of, so I came with Great-aunt Winifred instead.” She waved, and Winifred returned the compliment.
“So what line of business is he in?” Virginia looked puzzled. “Your husband?”
“He’s an insurance broker.”
“And what’s his specialty?”
“Horses,” Virginia said, looking out of the window.
“How interesting. I’d like to meet him. Perhaps he could give me a better deal than the guy who’s currently robbing me.”
Virginia didn’t respond, but turned to the man sitting on her left. By switching her attention from one to the other at regular intervals, she avoided having to answer too many awkward questions. She received an occasional wave from Great-aunt Winifred, but Cyrus never once glanced in her direction. How was she going to make him aware she was there? And then the question was answered for her.
She was chatting to Nathan about her other child, her first-born, giving him a name—Rufus, aged eight—and even the school he was attending—Summerfields—when an attractive young woman from another table strolled past. Virginia noticed that several pairs of male eyes followed her progress. By the time she’d reached the other side of the dance floor, Virginia had worked out how to be sure that Cyrus couldn’t miss her. However, her timing needed to be perfect, because she didn’t want any rivals on the catwalk at the same time. Especially one who was younger and had longer legs.
After the third course had been cleared away, the toastmaster banged his gavel and silence prevailed once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Larry Campbell, the father of the bride.”
Mr. Campbell rose from his place at the center of the top table. He began by welcoming his guests on behalf of his wife and …