She was wearing a deep burgundy dress with long sleeves and gathered cross-draping. To Belle’s experienced eye, the dress was complicated and stunning.
“I love your hair!” Joy exclaimed when she arrived at Belle and Miles. She leaned in and gave Belle a cheek touch and air kiss, her hands curling on Belle’s forearms. She leaned back and cried, “And your dress!” She said no more, her tone and emphasis were enough to say that words simply did not describe.
Belle fought the urge to touch her hair nervously. She’d pulled it back softly from her face and fixed it in a loose chignon at the side of her nape. It took about twenty tries to get it right but she’d finally done it.
Except one, long, thick tendril that curled down the side of her neck, which would not, no matter what Belle tried to do (and she’d tried everything), stay fixed in the knot.
“Thank you,” Belle whispered, her gaze moving to the guests in the vast hall, of which there were a fair few standing about, all of their eyes on her.
After the events of eight months ago, she’d become somewhat accustomed to eyes on her.
That didn’t mean she liked it and it always made her feel awkward.
Or, more awkward than she normally felt.
Joy linked her arm through Belle’s and announced, “Let’s get you a drink, shall we?”
Joy pulled Belle away from Miles and toward the fantastic drawing room which was decorated in whites, creams, yellows and golds. Miles had given her the full tour of the castle that afternoon. It had taken more than an hour mainly because Belle was enthralled that any family could actually live in such historical splendour but also because it was huge.
It boggled the mind.
Or, at least, it boggled Belle’s mind.
Though, Belle had to admit, her mind was not difficult to boggle.
The drawing room had even more people and Belle felt her body grow tight as, upon their entry, many of their eyes moved to her.
Joy didn’t seem to notice and leaned close to Belle, not as if they’d met only hours before but as if they were bosom buddies and had been for decades. “Miles delivered your present to me while you were getting ready. I love it, Belle. Thank you.”
Belle turned her head to Joy at these genuine and heartfelt words and she smiled.
She didn’t know if she should give a woman she’d never met a present but considering she was attending her party and dating her son she figured it would be bad manners if she didn’t do something.
It took fifteen calls to her grandmother, mother and a variety of friends before Belle chose a piece of jewellery from her shop. Hammered silver that was cut sharply in places, rolled stylishly in others and liberally sprinkled with freshwater pearls, it had a unique style and Belle thought it was lovely.
Still, what did you get the woman who had or could have everything?
Clearly, Belle hadn’t done a bad job of it.
“I’m pleased you like it,” Belle murmured, sounding as pleased as she was and Joy squeezed her arm.
“I don’t like it, I love it. It’s unusual, beautiful and very thoughtful,” Joy replied.
For the first time since she arrived at the castle, Belle felt unmitigated happiness and her smile deepened.
They stopped at a small bar set up for the party with a variety of glasses and bottles of liquor with buckets of ice. It was attended by a dark-jacketed, bow-tied bartender.
“Two champagnes please,” Miles ordered, coming to stand behind Belle and she felt his hand move to rest at the small of her back.
She looked over her shoulder at Miles and tried to hide her annoyance.
He did that all the time, ordered for her. And it wasn’t like he knew her preferences because he barely knew her. He just said things like “You have to try this,” or “This is the best thing they make,” and then he’d order it for her without allowing her to say a word.
She actually didn’t want the meals he ordered her and at that moment she also didn’t want champagne.
With her nerves, she needed at the very least vodka. If she had the courage of her grandmother and mother, she would have ordered a shot of tequila (or three).
Champagne wasn’t even in her top five.