The Youngest Bridesmaid (2 page)

“
Then why worry?
”
Lou asked cheerfully
,
well aware of Melissa
’
s attractions and only wishing to be helpful, but she became conscious at once of the dislike in her cousin
’
s regard and wished she had not spoken. There was, she realized, suddenly, still some
nagging worry at the back of Cousin Blanche
’
s mind, despite the fact that her debts were paid and this lavish wedding would cost her nothing.

“
Why should I worry?
”
Blanche said with a hard little edge to her voice.
“
Really, Lou, for a little girl who has been fortunate enough to participate in a world outside her own, you take rather much upon yourself, don
’
t you think? Now, there are plenty of chores still to be done, so stop mooning over Melissa
’
s wedding dress and come and make yourself useful. By the same token, don
’
t, please, inflict Piers with if your half-fledged views on the situation.
”

“
I wouldn
’
t,
”
Lou replied, with a last, yearning look at the bridal gown which had become ghostly and mysterious in the failing daylight,
“
dream of discussing anything so personal with Piers—neither would he listen if I did.
”

“
Naturally. Well, I
’
m glad that you
’
re sensible enough to realize that for him you would scarcely count, even if you have rather fallen for him. Now, my dear, let
’
s go downstairs and you can get on with listing the wedding presents. You
’
d better write out a few letters of thanks too—Melissa can just sign any but the most important.
”
Blanche went out of the room and Lou followed her tall, graceful figure down the stairs, thinking how well the house
’
s elegance suited her. It was a house
h
ired for a few weeks, she knew, and the decor had been designed for someone else, but Cousin Blanche and her daughter, and their many acquaintances, would blend with the background of any fashionable London mansion and not care that none of them was a home.

As they crossed the hall, Melissa slid in at the front door and stood for a moment against it with the air of a truant who had been caught.

“
Where have you been?
”
her mother demanded sharply, and to Lou there was an unwarranted anxiety in the question, just as there was a needless touch of defiance in Melissa
’
s reply.

“
Shopping, naturally,
”
she retorted.
“
There are still a hundred and one things to remember. I
returned the mink stole, incidentally, and exchanged it for a little bolero—chinchilla
’
s in again, did you know?
”

“
Yes, I know. Rather double the cost of the stole, though, I imagine.
”

“
Of course, but the sky
’
s the limit, isn
’
t it?
”

“
If you say so. Does Piers know he
’
s to be responsible for, your trousseau as well as our debts?
”

“
I haven
’
t asked him. Still, darling, you
’
re arranging all the sordid details of this business, aren
’
t you?
”

“
Within reason. You haven
’
t told me where you
’
ve been.
”

“
Shopping
,
precious,
”
Melissa said, her blue eyes wide and disingenuous.
“
We
’
re shocking poor Lou, you know, with all this blatant talk of money. She
’
s been brought up to believe that the trousseau and the wedding breakfast are matters for the bride
’
s family, haven
’
t you, Lou?
”

Her cousin, Lou suspected, was deliberately proffering a red herring for her mother
’
s distraction, but all the same she was aware that Melissa could never resist her little dig at what she termed
bourgeois
standards.

“
I
’
ve never thought about it, not having been a prospective bride,
”
Lou replied, and her cousin pulled a small grimace.

“
Put in my place, you see,
”
she said to her mother,
“
or could it be that my youngest bridesmaid is a tiny mite envious? Blanche darling, I
’
m dead to the world. Is Piers really coming tonight? Could I go to bed with a headache, do you suppose?
”

Mother and daughter wandered together across the hall, tall and slim and coldly beautiful, their golden heads identical, thanks to an excellent but unimaginative hairdresser, their clothes differing hardly at all in design and elegance. Lou watched them, feeling gauche and alien. If they thought of her at all, they labelled her dull and ingenuous, she knew, the little cousin to whom one threw careless crumbs when she might prove useful, but whose feelings and opinions mattered nothing at all. Well,
thought Lou, as the drawing-room door closed behind them, shutting her out,
w
hy should she care?

She had been snatched up into a kind of fairy tale, thanks to the bridesmaid who had developed mumps, and if she did not altogether like what she found in this utterly foreign way of life, she could marvel and admire and store up the color and the
strangeness
against the drab monotony of the office to which she would eventually return.

II

Each day Lou awakened to the small luxury of early morning tea, curtains drawn back by a maid, and all the unfamiliar attentions which she herself had never known but which for the Chaileys were presumably commonplace. Sometimes Melissa would come and share the tea, sitting on the bed while she smoked her endless cigarettes, lovely even in the cold early light, with her hair still fastened up in pin
-
curls and her young face shining from last night
’
s cream.

There had never been any opportunity for the two girls to become intimate, neither, thought Lou, would Melissa have shown much interest in the rather dull little cousin who could not be expected to share in her own conception of what constituted a good time, but Lou had admired and been humble at so much careless perfection. Watching Melissa now, and listening to accounts of parties, admirers, and the latest fashions, Lou sometimes wondered if her cousin merely wanted to impress or whether there was something on her mind which she wished to unload on to someone who was outside her usual run of intimates. If this last were true, Melissa certainly never got around to unburdening herself, and indeed, thought Lou, what could possibly be amiss in such an advantageous marriage to a man who, for so long, had been a prize just out of reach? She said as much on one occasion and was abashed by her cousin
’
s rather cynical response.

“
Oh, yes, he
’
s a catch all right,
”
she replied.
“
Blanche played her cards very well—all the same, she would find herself in the soup if I ratted, wouldn
’
t she?
”

“
Ratted? You mean if you found you didn
’
t want to marry him, after all? But surely—
”

“
Surely my happiness would come first with my mother, you were going to say, weren
’
t you? Well, darling, the financial angle might be a bit tricky, mightn
’
t it?
”

“
I wasn
’
t going to say that, as it happens,
”
Lou replied.
“
I
’
d meant
—
surely you couldn
’
t have any doubts now.
”

“
Oh, I see. You think rather well of Piers, don
’
t you? Blanche said you
’
d fallen for him.
”

“
Cousin Blanche sees a lot in her imagination,
”
Lou retorted sharply, and Melissa raised her eyebrows.

“
Blanche doesn
’
t imagine the obvious,
”
she said with faint malice.
“
You wouldn
’
t be the first to
c
herish an unrequited crush for our very eligible Mr. Merrick. He
’
s been a hard enough fish to land in all conscience.
”

“
That
’
s horrid, coming from you,
”
Lou said, frowning with distaste, and her cousin regarded her with amusement. Unsophisticated little Lou might cherish old-fashioned notions about romance, but she was, for all her mousiness, unafraid to speak her mind.

“
In bad taste, you think?
”
Melissa countered with a slight drawl.
“
You
’
re probably right; still and all—
”

“
Melissa—
”
Lou said tentatively as her cousin broke off,
“
if you
have
doubts
—
well, what did you mean when yo
u
said Cousin Blanche would find herself in the soup if you ratted?
”

Melissa lit another cigarette and inhaled too quickly, making her cough.

“
You must know the financial set-up by now, my dear. The other bridesmaids will scarcely have been very reticent,
”
she observed coolly, and Lou moved
uneasily in the bed. The bridesmaids, and Cousin
Blanche herself, as far as that went, had been devastatingly frank; all the same—

“
But Piers—
”
she began stubbornly.
“
He must be—he must be very much in love with you to—bargain, if that
’
s what it comes to.
”

“
You put it very tactfully, darling Lou, but Piers
’
emotions have remained undisturbed for years,
I should imagine. Having sown his wild oats, as the saying is, he feels the need for settling down, and what better choice could he have than the daughter of the woman who should have been his stepmother?
”

“
Righting an old wrong, you mean?
”

“
Hardly that corny old chestnut! Getting his own back, more likely. He knows very well what a bitter pill it was to Blanche that she didn
’
t wait long enough .for that inheritance to come along. He was devoted to his father, you know, and had quite a thing about Blanche too, I believe. Why do you look so startled, Lou—or are you merely disapproving?
”

“
Not dis-disapproving,
”
Lou stammered.
“
I just don
’
t understand.
”

“
No, you probably wouldn
’
t—I
’
m not sure I do myself. There must be a streak of the romantic in Piers all mixed up with cocking snooks at Blanche—or maybe Blanche is just good at emotional blackmail. What do
y
ou think?
”

Lou privately thought that the slightly alarming Piers Merrick kept his romantic streak well hidden, if indeed he possessed one, neither had he appeared to her as a man to be swayed by blackmail, emotional or otherwise, but Melissa
’
s approach to her coming marriage disturbed her rather more than the unknown sensibilities of the bridegroom.

“
It
’
s not my concern, is it?
”
she said at last.
“
Only—
”

“
Only what? The world well lost for love, you
’
re thinking? But I like my love well gilded, darling, the fabulous wedding, the equally fabulous honeymoon,
and after that—
”

“
After that,
”
said Lou with unaccustomed asperity,
“
life on a small island with both of you cut down to size.
”

Her cousin looked at her with passing surprise.
“
How very perceptive of you, darling,
”
she observed,
“
But you don
’
t imagine, do you, that I
’
m prepared to cut myself off from civilization on Piers
’
impossible island?
”

“
I understand the island is very much part of his background between travels.
”

“
A fad—a gimmick. Who but Piers could afford, anyway, to buy an island off the Cornish coast, much less staff it and play king of the castle when the mood takes him? Oh, no, my child, once we
’
re safely married Piers will sell his island and buy one of those so-called stately homes within reasonable distance of town. That and the London flat and the moor he rents each year for the grouse season will do very nicely for preventing us both from getting bored with each other.
”

Lou was used by now to her cousin
’
s quite understandable little bursts of showing off, but she had, all at once, a sense of foreboding. Piers Merrick, she thought, was not the type of man to relinquish a cherished project for the sake of a pretty face.

“
The island is, more than a gimmick. It
’
s a refuge,
”
she said.

“
How should you know? He
’
s like all rich men who can indulge an expensive whim—crazy about it until it bores him
.
”

“
I think the island is more than that—a place of escape, a sort of touchstone.
”

“
What nonsense you talk, impressionable Cousin Louise, but, islands are romantic, of course—in theory. Has Piers been boring you with a lot of rubbish?
”

“
He hardly notices me,
”
Lou replied gently, but remembering with an unreasoning pang of guilt the occasion of a dance she had attended, with Melissa and the other bridesmaids whose escorts politely ignored her. Piers had suddenly plucked her from the little gilt chair where she sat against the wall, and without requesting a dance, had whirled her o
n
to the floor. They had danced in complete silence, and she, aware that although he danced beautifully she was as good, abandoned herself wholeheartedly to the pleasure of the moment.

“
Well
...
”
he had said when the music stopped,
“
you do surprise me, Cinderella.
”

“
Do I? But Cinderella went to the ball, too.
”

“
So she did—and captivated Prince Charming. You
’
re like thistledown, Lou, or is that just a
cliché
?
”

“
I wouldn
’
t know. I haven
’
t many social graces.
”

“
Haven
’
t you?
”
His rather disillusioned eyes were suddenly bright with amusement.
“
But I think you
’
re flirting with me—which is one of the graces.
”

She had stopped dead then in the middle of the dance floor as the music started again, and looked up at him in horrified confusion.

“
I wouldn
’
t dream ... I wouldn
’
t dare
...
”
she stammered, and he gave a short snort of laughter as he swept her back into his arms.

“
No, I don
’
t believe you would at that,
”
he said, and again danced in silence, giving her an impatient little shake as she missed a step because she was nervous.

They waltzed to quick, Viennese music, and after a while, couples began leaving the floor and stood around to watch, and in the end she and Piers were left dancing alone and the evening became a dream. She
caught glimpses in the mirrors which lined the walls as he twisted and turned her, her white dress which had done duty too long for the few festive occasions which came her way took on a fresh grace and ebullience and she saw herself looking small and airy and unfamiliar. Cinderella, he had called her, not for the first time, and as they waltzed alone in the beam of a spotlight, she seemed caught up in a dream sequence which h
a
d no substance or reality.