The Bastard Takes a Wife Read online

  “Sam, you young bugger. Get over here and give your dad a hug.” Kent stepped forward and grasped his son around the shoulders, almost tackling him to the ground in some sort of ritualistic family bear hug. The hug turned into a masculine cheek kiss ~ familial and loving.

  Sam pulled back and straightened.

  “Hey Dad, Mum. Amanda.” He reached over and pecked his mother, giving her a softer version of the hug and followed up with a delicate kiss to his sister’s cheek. “Everyone, this is my fiancée, Millie. Millie McIntyre.”

  Sam’s arm snaked around my waist affectionately and though I felt as if I was going to swallow my tongue with nerves, it was nice to hear him say those words. I don’t think he’d ever called me his fiancée before.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “So you’re the young filly that captured our Sam, eh?” Kent’s handshake was so strong he almost pulled my arm out. Whisking me away from Sam and spinning me around in a circle before giving my rump a quick slap, he looked me over like I was a prize horse.

  “Um. Yes.”

  “See why he chose you. You’re a cute young thing.”

  “Dad.” Sam’s tone was serious.

  “Well, she is, Son.”

  Kent turned back to me. “He’s not giving you any grief is he? Sam’s always been a bit of a handful. Especially when it came to girls. We didn’t think he’d ever get married.”

  I smiled. “No. He doesn’t give me any grief, Mr. Brockton.”

  Not recently anyway.

  “Super. You let me know if he does and I’ll give him a swift boot up the bum. Sort him out fast.”

  I pressed my lips together and tried not to smirk. It’d be worth telling a few tales to see it happen. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

  “Millicent, we meet at last.” Patricia Brockton moved forward. Her steel grey eyes gave me the once over. I hoped my new dress was alright. Angus had been keen for me to pick another but I’d felt comfortable in the Boho style chiffon. And I had worn heels.

  “Hello, Mrs. Brockton. Did you have a good flight?”

  Patricia snorted. “This is Australia, dear. The flights are never good. Or on time. I keep telling Kent we should have our own jet. With the amount of travelling we do, it’s almost a sin not to.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Sam tells us you were the nanny for Adele’s children.”

  I swallowed hard and stood as tall as I could. This woman was looking down her nose at me because I used to be a nanny. “I was. Until recently. Now, I own a Bed and Breakfast retreat in Lombok.”

  Patricia was silent for a moment. “Yes. We heard about that.”

  “It’s lovely. You should come and visit. We’re staying on after the honeymoon to see how everything is running. I have a few event ideas I want to implement with the staff.”

  “I don’t do Bali, dear. It’s so 1985. And the last time we went Kent got such a dreadful case of Bali Belly we had to get the doctor to give him a shot. People shouldn’t be allowed to live where there’s no proper water.”

  “My B&B is five star, Mrs. Brockton. The staff would be mortified to think of anything like that happening. They take great pride in their work and the way they look after our guests.”

  “I’m sure they do.”

  I could feel the tension creeping down my neck and into my shoulders. What exactly was that supposed to mean? Snobby cow. I looked up at Sam but he was silent, seemingly as shocked by his mother’s words as I was.

  “After all, it’s Sam’s money that pays for everything you have.”

  My eyes bulged at Amanda, who stood protectively close to her mother. Like the rest of the family, she was tall but her height was accentuated by the twig like nature of her body. In fact, she would have made a twig look fat.

  “He would only have the best,” she continued. “That’s the way we were brought up.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, there’s no need,” Amanda replied. “We all know Sam paid for your little project. Just like we know why you’re marrying him.”

  My mouth fell to the floor. Amanda’s lustrous hair may have been cut to frame a heart shaped face that held eyes exactly like Sam’s, her body may have been a perfect clotheshorse, outfitted in the latest fashion straight from the Fall/Winter Collections of Milan, she may have cast a close resemblance to her twin in looks but she was a total bitch.

  My cheeks reddened. “That’s not true. I paid for the B & B with my own money. I’ve been saving for three years.”

  “My. That must have been an effort.”

  “That’s enough, Amanda,” Sam said, pulling me to him. “You need to apologise. Now.”

  “But it’s true, Sam. Everyone’s talking about it.” She looked at him as if daring him to argue.

  “And who would everyone be? Kelly Heath-Vandermere? Chloe St. George?”

  “And the rest.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Amanda. I never had any intention of hooking up with any of your friends and nothing has changed. Or will. I’m marrying Millie whether you like it or not. And despite what you and your cronies believe, she did not chase after me or get pregnant to trick me into asking her. In fact, she never even knew I had money and I practically had to beg her to marry me.”

  So there, I thought. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. I wanted to jump and down and sing ‘nah, nah, nah-nah nah’ in the bitch’s face.

  “But Sam… I was only… she’s so common.”

  A feeling that the siblings had forgotten I was even there seeped through me. It wasn’t a nice one.

  “No. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “She’s a gold digger.”

  Sam took my hand and we walked up the stairs and over to the space that had been set aside for the speeches and cake cutting. I put on a brave face as he squeezed my hand and told me not to worry about his sister ~ her reaction had been what he’d expected and he’d explain it later. I sniffed back a tear as he took me in his arms and we did the spotlight dance, knowing how much he hated dancing but was willing to suck it up for me for one night. Then I saw Amanda’s face in the darkness at the side of the dance floor. She had a scowl on that could crack glass. And I knew, that for every inch of love Sam felt for me, his family hated me times ten. Well, with the exception of his Dad. Kent looked like the type of bloke who accepted everyone as they were. But for his mother and sister, I would never be good enough.

  Chapter 6

  I left lunch with Sam the following Monday and went to the house for a meeting with Angus, Adele and the Brockton women. We were to decide on invitations that afternoon. The printers were waiting and it could take up to three weeks depending on the style chosen. Personally, I didn’t see the need for a full on deputation to choose the invites, I would’ve been just as happy with something generic but it seemed that I’d been outvoted in my sleep. Sam and I were to have some swanky custom things befitting our place in society or some such. Whatever. I’d go along with it to keep the peace. No matter how perfect I wanted our wedding to be, there were more important things in life than a few bits of paper. And if me backing down brought me a bit closer to being liked by Sam’s mother and sister, I’d do it; within reason, of course. I wasn’t willing to agree to any old thing but I was willing to compromise. I just prayed they were.

  I pulled the car into the driveway of Adele and Brian’s and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the automatic gate to open. Normally, Adele left it open when the children were at school but after discovering a photographer dangling from a tree outside the window the previous day, she’d decided it was time to crack down on security, hence the shut gates. My fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel as I waited. If only this were over. It was bad enough having people think I was Australia’s new Princess Mary but now I had the hatred of the in-laws to deal with too and I wasn’t looking forward to an afternoon of daggered looks across the dining table. My emotions were raw enough from the events of the party.

&nbs
p; Sam had assured me he’d spoken to his mother and there’d be no more mean words. He’d said his mother and Amanda were feeling threatened because I was ‘taking him away’ from them and that it wasn’t that they disliked me ~ how could they when they didn’t know me ~ but rather that they didn’t trust me because of the previous girls Sam had been involved with. I wasn’t upset. I didn’t like the look of Amanda either.

  “I wish Amanda would’ve got to know me before she started spreading rumours about the town,” I’d told him. “It’s not nice to have people looking at me like I’m only after your money.”

  Indeed, that morning, a reporter had asked me to comment on that very thing as I went to get in the car.

  “You can see her point of view, though, can’t you? I’ve been in two failed relationships that, in the end, were about money. Amanda’s only acting the overprotective twin. It’s no more than I’d do for her.”

  “Or she thinks I’m not good enough for you. I saw the disdain, Sam. It was written all over her face.”

  There, I’d said it. Sam’s sister didn’t like me and we both knew why.

  “She’s not like that.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “She wants me to be happy.”

  “And being with me won’t make you happy?”

  Sam pulled me in for a cuddle. His lips came down to kiss the nape of my neck. He knew how to make me quiver. “Of course, it will. I’d never have proposed if I thought you weren’t the one. You know that. Money isn’t an issue, so let’s not fight over it.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Will you try to be nice to her?”

  I’d looked up into his face; unsure as to how I’d gone from being the victim to the one who had to back down. “In case you’ve forgotten I didn’t do anything. She was the one who attacked me.”

  “And she assures me it won’t happen again. I’ve told her how wonderful you are. She just needs to see it. She’ll be on her best behaviour from now.”

  It was a sweet gesture and while I trusted Sam had done his best I was under no illusions that Amanda would behave so I’d enlisted help of my own in the form of Mel, who I noticed had arrived and was getting out of her car in front of me. There was no way that Amanda cow could be mean to me again with Mel around. Not if she wanted to leave the house with her hair extensions in tact.

  Everyone was waiting at the table in the family room when Mel and I walked in. Angus had taken the head and was fussing over a rather pretty woman who sat next to him wearing a floaty, printed dress. Her fair hair hung over her shoulder in a messy ponytail that was held in place with pink ribbon. She had a glow about her cheeks that was so radiant I wanted to ask her where she got her blusher. Adele sat between them, Amanda and Patricia, who looked stonier than the headstones in Karrakatta Cemetery.

  Determined not to let them get to me, I gave my voice a particularly upbeat tone. “Hi everyone, we’re not late, are we?”

  Adele smiled. “Of course not, darling. Patty and I had lunch. It seemed easier for her to come straight here afterwards. And you’ve brought …”

  Mel pulled out two chairs on the other side of the table and we sat down.

  “Bridesmaid number two ~ Melanie,” she said, a naughty twinkle in her eye. She pressed her knee reassuringly against mine under the table. “Now, can we get a wriggle on? I’ve only got an hour before I have to be back at the office. If I want to make partner by the age of thirty I have to keep my billable hours up or old man Harris blows a fucking gasket.”

  Patricia gasped.

  Amanda almost fell off her chair.

  This was what they needed. A good dose of Mel.

  “Mel’s a junior partner at Freeman and Freeman. She specialises in divorces, pre-nups and stuff.”

  Patricia sat forward, alert. “That reminds me, Millie, you’ll need to make an appointment to see the family solicitors with Sam. They have some documents drawn up for you.”

  “You want me to sign a pre-nup?” It was confirmed. They hated me.

  “It’s a formality.”

  “As a member of Millie’s legal team, I should inform you she won’t be signing anything until I’ve looked it over first. Though why she should even have to is beyond me. Its not like she’s going to skip the fucking country with Sam’s cash. She doesn’t even like money. And quite frankly, you should be happy she’s marrying your son. No one else in their right mind would. He’s an absolute arse at times.” Hands locked on the table in front of her, Mel glared across the expanse of table at Patricia who looked as if she were going to have a minor coronary.

  I tried to dispel the disbelief echoing in my head. Team of lawyers? I never knew I had one lawyer, let alone a team. All I’d wanted was someone on my side of the table so I didn’t end up with some heinous looking wedding invitations. Mel was right though. I wasn’t overly fussed about the material things ~ well, apart from my Pandora bracelet and glitter sandals. And with the exception of my wedding day, I was quite happy wearing whatever. Sam’s engagement ring was the most expensive thing I owned.

  “Are you insinuating my son has some sort of personality flaw?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything. Sam, bless his hot little heart, is a Class A bastard. Thank God for Millie. She’s the only one able to keep him in line. We used to have dreadful trouble with him at the club before she came along.”

  Patricia’s face went a funny shade of puce.

  Adele looked at the table.

  The invitation lady examined a few samples.

  “Do we have to listen to this, Mum?” Amanda demanded. “I mean, seriously. I think this ridiculousness has gone on long enough. There’s no way she can marry Sam.”

  Mel snorted. “You’d rather he marry that friend of yours? Chloe? Wasn’t she up on some sort of drug charge not long ago?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I read.”

  “They didn’t belong to her. It was a misunderstanding.”

  “I believe it always is until you get to rehab.”

  Oh, this was priceless. And even better, there was no way Patricia could disapprove of Melanie as a bridesmaid ~ not after she’d railroaded me into having her.

  Angus stood up. He could see things were getting a little heated. With a three swift claps, he brought the meeting to order.

  “So ladies, let me introduce you to Penelope Brewster. She’s the ‘go to’ girl for custom wedding stationary. She’s managed to squeeze us in but we have to make a decision today as the stationary is hand made.”

  Penelope’s mouth tugged into a smile and the introduction, revealing a set of rather pointy, extremely white teeth that instantly altered her appearance from pretty to prehistoric budgie. “I’ve brought a few samples. And, my portfolio has shots of others you may like.”

  “Penelope has assured me she’s able to reproduce anything you see today in the timeframe. And let’s face it every wedding should be announced with a certain degree of fanfare, so why not have the best if we can?” Angus’s hand swept along the table, revealing some of the most harebrained ideas for wedding invitations I’d ever seen ~ jester hats, bunches of paper flowers, three freakin’ blind mice. There wasn’t a normal old scroll or card in sight.

  “Definitely,” agreed Patricia.

  “Only the best for Millie and Sam,” echoed Adele.

  Amanda pouted and sat back on her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Now, Millie, I know you wanted simple and seeing as we’re going for a black and white theme maybe we could have some thing like this? A replica of this design was used by Pandora in the last series of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”

  I had no idea who he was talking about but the girl had either no taste or way too much money. Angus had reached across the table and was holding up a square golden box about thirty centimetres across, the lid of which was smothered in pink rosebuds hot-glued in orderly lines. With a flourish, he took the lid from the box and revealed a bed of pink satiny fabric from
which he plucked the invitation. It was a white silk covered card printed with embossed silver font.

  “Of course, we’d do yours in a black satin box with white roses and black lining.”

  My eyes were like stalks popping out of my head. I could feel them bulging unnaturally.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s… it’s…..” God, I had no idea what to say. It sounded more like a funeral than a wedding.

  “It’s fucking disgusting. If Millie delivered that to the boys from the club they’d laugh in her face. I don’t care who designed it,” Mel answered.

  “I beg your pardon,” Patricia said.

  “You heard me. It’s hideous. What else have you got, Angus? I can only assume you’re working up to the good stuff.”

  Penelope produced a smaller cube shape, very simple in design though still in the pink theme. “I can make it in any colour you like,” she offered.

  “That could work,” Mel whispered to me. “You could have cream with black ribbon.”

  I nodded. It was stylish. Classy. And I’d never seen an invitation like it though God knows how it would go through the post. I posed the question.

  “The invitations will be delivered by courier,” Angus explained. “Patricia’s contracted a company to do it.”

  Oh.

  “Does my mother know about this?” I asked, because I was sure my father would have a nervous break down when he found out about the extra cost.

  “Kent and I are paying,” Patricia said. “We’ve spoken to your parents. There’s no question that we won’t be contributing to give you and Sam the perfect day. The onus shouldn’t fall completely on your family.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” I wanted to say something more but frankly I was so shocked I was unable. And anyway, I was sure she was only doing it for the social kudos. It had nothing to do with Sam and I.