chapter Sixteen
Honey had to drag herself out of bed on Thursday morning. The thought of the coming day at court hung over her like a raincloud, making her grumpy as she helped prepare breakfast. By the time everyone was seated around the table, she’d snapped at every one of her sisters and soured the atmosphere as sure as squeezing lemon into milk.
“Honey,” her father said firmly as he took his seat at the head of the table, “for God’s sake, take your bad mood elsewhere if you can’t control yourself.”
Tears pricked her eyes—he so rarely snapped that she knew she must have deserved it. She covered her emotion by giving a hoarse apology, pushed herself away from the table and walked stiffly to her bedroom, hearing the hushed whispers of her family behind her and knowing she’d shocked them with her unusual temper.
It was her youngest sister who came in to find her.
“Are you okay?” Lily perched on the edge of the dresser. Small, slender and dark, Lily had seemed the most affected by their mother’s death, and she was the only one of her sisters that Honey still worried about on a regular basis.
Honey adopted a bright smile. “I’m fine. Just nervous about today.” It was partly true. She pushed the ever-present fear about Dex away and came over to give Lily a hug. “How are you?”
Lily shrugged. “Okay.”
“What are you working on today?” Lily had a day off, and usually she spent her spare time indulging in her favourite hobby—painting.
Lily’s eyes lit up. “I’m starting a new piece. I was looking at pictures of Jupiter last night, with its huge spot and swirling clouds, and it gave me an idea for a series of abstract paintings based on the planets.”
“What a great idea.” Honey hugged her again. “I don’t know where you get all your inspiration. I couldn’t dream these things up in a million years.”
Lily hugged her back. “Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t brush me off. You’re worried about Dex, aren’t you? What has he done? Is he misbehaving?” Her manner was only a little teasing. The whole family knew about his troubled youth.
Honey pulled back, her eyebrows rising, although she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. Her sister had always had a special knack for reading people’s emotions. “He hasn’t done anything.” She turned away and pulled on her jacket, not wanting to worry her baby sister. “Everything’s fine.”
“Honey…” Lily folded her arms. “If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to? I know you don’t want to worry Dad.”
“I don’t want to worry you either,” Honey pointed out wryly.
“I’m not made of paper,” Lily said. She looked down at the floor. “I know I’ve not been the most…resilient of people. I know I haven’t coped with everything as well as I could have. But that doesn’t mean I’m fragile. Everyone acts like I’m going to slit my wrists if they tell me something negative, but I’ve never been like that.”
“I know,” Honey said.
“I miss Mum,” Lily said. “But I think that’s allowed, you know? The others all do too but they try and hide it, as if it will somehow go away if they ignore it. But I’ve never been like that. I’d rather face up to something. I’m not afraid to feel, you know?” She spoke fiercely, passionately. She’d always been like that, Honey thought. Somehow experiencing things on a deeper level than everyone else.
Perhaps she’d been too protective of her little sister. The very fact that she was the baby of the family meant they’d spoiled her, indulged her, and when Marama had died, they’d tried to protect her and wrap her in cotton wool as if they could somehow muffle the pain. But it hadn’t worked and all it had done was made Lily feel patronised. Although only twenty-one, she was an adult. She didn’t deserve to be mollycoddled.
Honey sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Okay, I give in. I don’t have anything concrete to tell you. It’s more instinct, you know? A gut feeling. Something doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know what it is. Dex seems…distracted. And I worry that he’s having second thoughts.”
“About marrying you?” Lily studied her thoughtfully. “I very much doubt that’s the case. He’s waited an awfully long time to get you down the aisle, and he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who takes to celibacy easily.”
Honey’s lips twisted as Lily’s eyes sparkled. “No.”
“I don’t get the impression he’s suddenly changed his mind,” Lily continued.
“But something’s bothering him.”
Lily shrugged. “What happened last time is bound to play on his thoughts. At the moment he associates weddings with negative emotions, with anger and possessiveness and fear. It sounds like last time he agreed to marry Cathryn the Crackpot even though he knew deep down she wasn’t the love of his life. He did it out of duty, and he regrets that. It’s probably making him uncomfortable, remembering that day.”
“Hmm.” Honey wasn’t convinced. Dex hadn’t looked uncomfortable. He’d looked like he was trying to find a way to tell her he didn’t want to marry her, but he’d chickened out.
Still, maybe Lily had a point. Perhaps she should just accept he was going to think about the past and wait for the storm to blow over. It would have been easy for him to call it off last night—she’d given him every opportunity. But he’d insisted he still wanted to marry her. What was she trying to do—talk him into it?
She sighed. Worry about the day ahead made her shoulders sag. “I wish it was Saturday,” she whispered. “I wish it was all over.”
“I know.” Lily got up and came over to hug her again. “Chin up, sis. You’re marrying the man of your dreams! I wish I was in your shoes.”
That made Honey smile. “Oh, your Mr. Right is out there somewhere, sweetie. Don’t you worry. You’re only twenty-one—you have years of fun and romance ahead of you yet.”
Lily looked doubtful. She’d only had one boyfriend, and Honey wasn’t sure they’d slept together. “I guess.”
“Of course you have. You just need to get out more!” She stood and shooed her sister with her hands. “Now go on and let me get ready. I’ve got to be at court in half an hour—I have to get moving.”
They kissed and Lily left. Honey sighed and straightened her jacket in the mirror. After Daisy had moved in with Reuben, Honey had taken over the motherly role of the family—not that Daisy had been that good at it anyway. Daisy had been better at bossing everyone around and organising the practical side of the household, but Honey had always been the heart of the house, providing a listening ear to all their troubles and a comforting hug should one be needed. She enjoyed the role, but with it came all the worries of a parent too, as well as the concern that she should be doing more, and the anxiety about what would happen when she left to move in with Dex.
She surveyed herself in the mirror, noting the frown lines between her eyes and the dark rings beneath them. She didn’t look like a bride-to-be. She should be excited, double-checking all the arrangements for Saturday and throwing hissy fits because the flowers were the wrong shade. But worry about the big day was almost the last thing on her mind.
Her watch read eight thirty. She should get going. She didn’t want to be late for court.
Hesitating for a moment, she crossed the bedroom to the wardrobe. Hanging on the side was her wedding dress, covered in a blue plastic zipped bag. She brought it around and hung the hanger on the front of her wardrobe, then unzipped the bag part of the way.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she reached out to brush the layered skirt. Fashion dictated that meringues weren’t stylish anymore and to be elegant one had to wear a long straight strapless dress in empire line or ‘fit and flare’, but Honey had passed impatiently over those styles in the catalogues. Why should she choose a dress she could have got away with at a dinner party? She’d wanted something magnificent and princess-like, straight out of a Disney movie.
In the end, she’d chosen a breathtaking tulle and sequin ball gown with lace appliqués, spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline. It was demure and dignified and utterly impractical, and she wanted to wear it all day every day for the rest of her life.
She fingered the tulle, unable to believe she’d get a chance to wear it. And then she sighed, frustrated at her own lack of confidence. Her therapist had told her that she had to believe in herself before she could expect other people to. If she didn’t think she deserved to be happy then other people wouldn’t either. It had not been an easy lesson for her to learn, but she’d been getting there. But the recent events were causing all the old feelings of worthlessness to rise to the surface.
She zipped up the bag, imagining as she did so the old Star Trek adage of “Shields up!” A firm fan of The Next Generation and Jean-Luc Picard, the therapist had suggested the mental manoeuvre whenever she felt the need to protect herself, and it had proved surprisingly successful. And sure enough, as she encased herself in her mental armour, her resolve stiffened and her confidence grew. She would go to court and do her best to sort out the case, and then she would be free to concentrate on her wedding. The wedding that was definitely going to go ahead because she loved Dex and Dex loved her, and that was all that mattered.