She waited until Gael was occupied with entertaining a couple she’d been told were vintners from two estates away before excusing herself and returning to the villa. Accompanied by a smiling Teresa, who had insisted it was tradition that she help her dress for her wedding night, and her mother, who continued to cast curious glances at her, Goldie was forced to keep the starchy smile pinned on her face.
The moment Teresa departed, her mother faced her.
‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’ Gloria declared, her gaze running searchingly over her daughter’s negligee-and-dressing-gown-clad body.
Her damning blush was all the confirmation her mother needed.
‘Oh, Goldie...’ The words were softly spoken, partly in regret, partly in tearful acceptance.
‘I was going to tell you when the time was right.’
Her mother nodded, but her eyes remained troubled. ‘Is that why you married him so quickly?’
It’s why I married him at all. But she knew she couldn’t say that. ‘It’s the right thing to do, Mom.’
‘For you or the baby?’
For some reason that softly voiced question tightened a vice around her heart. She watched her mother’s eyes fill with tears again as she sank down onto the bed. ‘This is my fault. I’m so sorry, Goldie.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not. Stop crying, please.’
Her mother’s smile was sad and a touch weary. ‘You can stop trying to be the adult, here, sweetheart. I know I haven’t been the best role model for you. If I’d tried to make a better life for you, instead of selfishly wanting things I couldn’t have, you wouldn’t have rushed into this—’
‘I made the decision with my eyes wide open, Mom. I... I don’t regret it.’
She firmed her voice against the tiny white lie. The truth was that things had seemed so clear-cut on top of Table Mountain when Gael had whispered in her ear that this was the only viable option. But as she’d made her vows in that ancient chapel there’d been a terrible moment when she’d tried to imagine saying another set of vows, at another time and place, to someone else. The stunning realisation had come that she couldn’t imagine such a time, couldn’t picture another man. That she wanted this time and place to be the only occasion when she said those words.
Goldie still hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around that.
‘Are you sure, sweetheart? Because—’
‘I’m sure, Mom.’ She placed her hands over her mother’s and held her gaze, repeating the words to herself in the hope that they would begin to ring true.
Her mother nodded and rose. Thinking she was about to head for the door, Goldie’s breath caught when her mother wrapped her in a firm embrace, laying her cheek on top of Goldie’s head.
‘I should’ve done better. I should’ve been a better mother, fought harder to make us happy. I’m sorry, Goldie. I hope you forgive me some day.’
Tears filled her eyes, choking her response. ‘Mom...’
‘Shh, it’s okay, honey. You’ll do much better than me—I know you will. But if you ever need me please give me the chance to be there for you, okay?’
Unable to speak, Goldie nodded, then sat in silence as her mother left. She was still perched on
the bed when a knock came on the door to the adjoining master suite.
The door opened to reveal Gael, minus his jacket and tie. He prowled into the room, power and glory falling from his impressive frame. ‘Should I take it as a personal affront that my bride deserts me before the wedding banquet is over?’ he drawled.
Her insides tightened. ‘We’re alone now, Gael. You can drop the pretence.’
He kept coming, not stopping until he reached the bottom of the bed, where he leaned his long-legged frame against the post, crossed his ankles. ‘Where is the pretence, amante? You are my bride, and I did feel deserted.’
‘So what is this? A yearning to have my fawning act reprised behind closed doors?’
His eyes narrowed as he stiffened. ‘Act?’
‘You don’t wish anyone else to know this marriage is a sham, but do we have to pretend that there’s more to this union than there really is?’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this our wedding night?’ he demanded bluntly.