butler was still trying to revive him. “What the hell is going on?”
Teddy stood up and faced him. “Mother doesn't want Serena to go to the wedding.” Serena looked as though she had been given an electric shock, and her husband looked as though he had been at the other end of the electric current.
“Mother what! Are you crazy?”
“No. She had the unmitigated gall to tell Serena that she owes it to Pattie not to be there. Serena ran into her in the kitchen, and she suggested that Serena develop a diplomatic illness and stay home.”
“Is that true?” He looked at his wife in unadulterated outrage, as she nodded. He walked toward the bed then and she could see that he was trembling. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't want you to be angry at your mother.” Her voice shook and she was obviously fighting back tears.
“Don't you ever do that again! If anyone ever says anything like that to you again, I want to know it! Is that clear?”
Brad looked both pained and thoughtful. He stood for a long moment then, and finally pointed to his brother. “Get out of here, Teddy.” And he pointed at his wife. “And you get out of bed. I don't give a damn what you wear, but I want you dressed in ten minutes.”
“But, Brad … I can't … your—”
“Not a word!” This time he roared it. “I'm the best man at my brother's wedding, and you're my wife. Is that clear? Do you understand that? You're my wife, that means you go everywhere I do, and you are accepted by the same people who love and accept me, whether that means my friends, or my family, or the people I work with. And if anyone does not accept you, and does not accord you the appropriate courtesy due you, I want to know it. Immediately next time. Not through the kind offices of my brother. Is that clear, Serena?”
“Yes.” She murmured softly.
“Good. Because I want that to be clear to you, and to my mother, and to Pattie and Greg, and anyone else who seems not to understand it. I'll explain it to my mother next, and while I'm doing that, you are to get your ass out of that bed and into whatever you were supposed to wear to this bloody farce of a wedding. And don't you ever do this again. Don't ever pretend to be sick, or hide something from me. You tell me. Is that clear?” She nodded, and he walked over and pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her. “I love you so much, dammit. I don't ever want anyone to hurt you. I promised to love, honor, and protect you as long as we both shall live, at least give me a chance to do that, baby. That's what I'm here for. And don't you ever, ever take shit from my mother again.” She was both touched and shocked at his rancor toward Margaret. He studied her. “Did something like this happen to upset you yesterday, Serena?” He watched her eyes as she answered, but she only shook her head. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Brad, I am.” She couldn't tell him that his mother had made her sign a paper. He would never speak to his mother again, and she didn't want to be responsible for that. This was bad enough.
He walked rapidly toward the doorway, and stood there for a moment, smiling at her. “I love you, Mrs. Fullerton.”
“I love you, Colonel.” She blew a kiss at him and he disappeared, trying to steel himself for the confrontation about to occur.
He found Margaret in her boudoir, dressed in a beautiful beige silk dress she had ordered from Dior for the wedding. They had all of her measurements in Paris, and all she had had to do was select a sketch and approve the swatch of fabric. She was also wearing a hat they had designed for her, made of delicate feathers of exactly the same beige. It swept low over one eye, and then lifted in the back to make room for an elegant twist of her thick white hair.
“Mother, may I come in?”
“Of course, darling.” She smiled pleasantly at him. “This is an important day. Have you seen your brother yet?”
“In both cases, yes.”
“I meant Greg. How is he?”
“Almost comatose, Mother. The servants are trying to bring him around. He got very drunk last night.” He wanted to say “As usual,” but he