Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

“Judge Townsend?” I asked as the room waited for my answer. “When were you asked to perform this ceremony?”

He glanced from me to Alton and back. The beads of perspiration on his upper lip multiplied. “Miss Collins, do you take—”

“Was this planned?” I asked again.

“Alexandria.”

Ignoring Alton, I asked again. “Judge, when did you agree to marry us?”

“Alex,” Bryce said, “just answer the damn question.”

I looked him in the eye. “Don’t you want a real wedding?”

The door continued to rattle, the voices growing louder, telling us they were about to enter. Even Alton’s cheeks began to pale, the red fading to gray, a lighter version of his eyes, yet darker than his hair.

“Don’t you think we should find out what’s happening?” I asked.

“Alexandria, now,” Alton growled.

“Miss Collins, please,” Judge Townsend asked again, his tone verifying Alton’s threat. Not only my future, but also his career depended upon my answer.

“No?” My response was a question, not an answer.

Momentarily forgetting the outside commotion, every eye in the room zeroed in on me.

“No?” Bryce asked, his drunken stupor replaced with shock. The change temporarily loosened his hold of my side.

I freed myself from his grasp. “No… I’m asking, don’t you all think we should learn what’s happening?” It was then I noticed the darkened window. The fog that had settled in the lower grounds had risen. Beyond the glass was a cloud that made the outside opaque, a strange combination of white with a blue strobe.

“Mr. Fitzgerald?” Judge Townsend asked as I ran toward the window. Alton’s office faced the side of the manor, neither toward the driveway nor the lake. The view normally didn’t offer much, yet I stood mesmerized by the thick layer of condensation that hung in the air. I’d never seen fog that changed colors. It reminded me of a dance floor as different hues of blue filled my view.

“The ceremony is only symbolic,” Alton said behind me. “You will secure the license. The marriage occurred yesterday.”

“I can get it,” the judge said, “but they both need to sign.”

Hope at the commotion bubbled and mixed with the doom of its meaning. Were there police cars on the property? Fire trucks? Ambulance? Was this about Momma?

“Someone tell me what’s happening?” I demanded.

Suzanna’s face paled under the layers of makeup, giving her a strange yet gothic appearance, while Alton’s crimson returned, deepening to a blood red.

“The signatures aren’t a problem, are they?” Alton asked, expecting—no demanding—obedience.

Before Bryce could answer, I straightened my neck and turned toward my fiancé. “Is this really what you want?” I stepped closer. “What you want? Remember, this is all yours, or it will be. Do you want to become my husband in an office behind closed doors? Or do you want it to happen in a church full of witnesses?” I reached for his hand. “Do you want to join the Carmichaels and Montagues in private or in front of Millie and Ian and Jess and Justin?” As he was about to answer, I added, “Don’t you want Patrick to be there, to see it as this all becomes real?”

“Bryce.” Alton’s tone held the same growl it had with my name.

“Alton, really, the wedding, the church, the dress…”

For once I appreciated Suzanna’s input; however, as with everything else she’d said, no one acknowledged her.

“Mr. Spencer? Are you in there?” The voice came again louder.

“No, Bryce,” Alton said. “I order you not to answer.”

“Bryce… it’s yours… they probably need your approval.” I spoke softly, still holding his hand.

As the commotion continued, Bryce’s chest again inflated. Nodding my direction, he let go of my hand and took a step toward the door.

His shoulders squared as he narrowed his gaze toward Alton. “You order? You’re not going to allow…” He stressed the words. “…my decisions. I’ve got news for you, old man. My decisions are all that matter. Your time is about up. Once Alexandria and I are married everything is up to me. It’s time you got used to it.”

I took a step back as my two monsters collided.

“You fool! Don’t open—”

Bryce reached for the door’s handle, but before he turned it, he questioned, “Alex, tell me you’ll say yes in front of witnesses. Tell me that when you said no it was because now isn’t the right time.”

I swallowed the bile as his hand stilled on the knob. Whatever was happening on the other side of the door needed access. “Bryce, please find out what’s happening. It could be my momma.”

“You’ll say yes in front of witnesses.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. “You’ll answer the right way so others won’t face the consequences as they will from tonight.”

His words reached inside and twisted my heart. I needed to know Chelsea was safe, yet by the look on his face and his not so veiled threat, I feared she’d been caught. The incomprehensible possibilities of that conclusion terrified me.

I nodded. “I will, but promise me there’ll be no consequences today. If you do as I ask, then I will say yes in front of witnesses.”