The Bride's Awakening - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,43

grimaced. She looked awful. Although she couldn’t regret the decision to wear her mother’s wedding gown, neither could she suppress the natural longing to look better in it.

The gown had been professionally cleaned and altered, but it was still befrilled and belaced to within an inch of its life—and hers. The thought of Vittorio seeing her looking like Little Bo Beep from a bad pantomime made her cringe. Sighing, she stroked the rich satin—no matter what the style, the dress was of the highest quality—and forced such negative thoughts from her mind. Today was her wedding day. She wanted to enjoy it.

Yet other negative thoughts—the doubts and fears that had dogged her since her dinner with Vittorio and Constantia—crept in and gnawed at her already struggling sense of happiness.

She’d seen Vittorio many times in the last fortnight; he’d made a point of stopping by the winery office, whether it was for a simple hello, or to show her a magazine article on the latest growing techniques, or to stroll through the Viale vineyards with her, the sun blazing benevolently down on them as they walked. Ana appreciated his attempts to make their relationship at least appear normal and pleasant, yet she couldn’t quite stop the creeping doubt that, even though she enjoyed them, the visits seemed a little…perfunctory. Another item ticked off on her husband-to-be’s to-do list. He’d acquired his bride; now he was maintaining her.

She knew she shouldn’t begrudge Vittorio the time he spent with her, and she shouldn’t expect more. She shouldn’t even want more. She’d agreed to a business-minded marriage, she reminded herself, not nearly for the first time. She had to stick to her side of the bargain.

Someone tapped on the door and then a dark curly head peeked round the frame. ‘Are you ready?’ Paola asked. Ever since Ana had told her friend about her upcoming wedding, Paola had been wonderfully supportive. Ana had not yet told her the truth of her marriage. ‘The car is here to take you to the castle.’

Ana nodded. ‘Yes, I just need my veil.’

Smiling, Paola reached for the gossamer-thin veil of webbed lace and settled it on Ana’s head. She wore her hair up in a chignon, clusters of curls at the corners of her brow. ‘You look…’ Paola began, and Ana smiled wryly.

‘Terrible.’

Paola smiled back at Ana, their eyes meeting in the mirror. ‘I wasn’t going to say that.’

‘The dress doesn’t suit me in the least.’

Paola gave a little shrug. ‘I think it’s wonderful you’re wearing your mother’s gown and anyone with any sense will think the same, no matter what it looks like. Anyway,’ she continued robustly as she twitched the veil so the lace flowed down Ana’s back, ‘I think a bride could wear a bin bag and it wouldn’t matter at all. When you’re in love, you glow. No one looks better than a bride on her wedding day.’

‘You think so?’ Ana asked, her voice pitched just a little too shrill. She didn’t glow, and it was no wonder. She wasn’t in love. She looked, in fact, rather pasty.

Paola laid a hand on Ana’s shoulder. ‘Is everything all right, Ana? I know we haven’t been in touch in a while, but—’ she paused, chewing her lip ‘—you seem so nervous. Everyone has cold feet, of course. I was nearly sick the morning of my own wedding, do you remember? But…are you sure this is what you want?’ She softened the question with a smile, adding, ‘It’s my duty as your bridesmaid and witness to ask that, you know.’

‘I know.’ Ana made herself smile back, despite the nerves that were fluttering rather madly in her stomach and threatening to make their way up her throat. ‘Yes, Paola, this is what I want.’ No matter how nervous she was now, Ana knew she couldn’t go back to her old life, her old ways. She couldn’t walk out on Vittorio, and what marriage to him would—could—mean. She let out her breath slowly. ‘If I seem particularly nervous, it’s because this marriage isn’t—isn’t really a normal marriage.’

Paola frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Vittorio and I only agreed to get married a fortnight ago,’ Ana explained in a rush. She felt better for admitting the truth she hadn’t been brave enough to reveal since Paola’s arrival two days ago. ‘We’re not in love, not even close. It’s a marriage…of convenience.’

‘Convenience?’ Paola echoed. She gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘Just what is convenient about marriage?’

Ana tried for a laugh as well; the