Read Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) Online
Authors: Katie O'Boyle
“The emerald?” He looked at her in the rearview mirror. “That was Hortense’s ring. Dad’s mother. She had the emerald in a crusty old setting, and I had the stone cleaned and reset. Lyssa loves it. Thank heaven for that. It’s the one thing that’s gone brilliantly. Who’s this Bridey? And what’s this about a house?”
Justin answered before Manda could say another word. “Bridey was Joel’s grandmother.” He clapped Kyle on the shoulder. “You’d have loved her, Kyle.”
Relaxed by the chummy tone, Kyle glanced over at Justin and back at Manda.
Manda took the opportunity to tell Kyle, “I can’t believe you didn’t know Justin bought your house for you.”
Kyle’s mouth opened. His eyes widened.
A horn blared.
Kyle gaped at the oncoming car, wrenched the wheel, and swerved back into his lane. He pressed the brake and exhaled noisily. “This whole thing is out of control. Lyssa will be furious.”
Fiona greeted the new guests with a hearty welcome and a blushing smile for Justin.
“How long has it been, Fiona?”
“Decades, I’m sure, Mr. Cushman. Lovely to meet yer wife.” She curtsied to Manda.
“No, my wife, Gianessa, is at home with our twins, Jack and Jill.
Manda waved to Fiona. “I’m Manda Cushman, Lyssa’s sister.”
Fiona curtsied again.
Justin explained, “Manda is married to my nephew Joel. Neither Joel nor Gianessa was up for travel this season, so Manda and I are representing the family and proudly standing with Kyle and Lyssa in their marriage ceremony.”
“If there is a wedding,” Kyle muttered. “Fiona, can you tell me where to find Lyssa?”
“She went out some time ago, Mr. Kyle. Didn’t say where she was going or when she’d be back.”
“Did you notice which direction she took?”
“Toward the sea, but she wasn’t dressed for hiking.”
“She’s not on the cliff path then.”
“Is there anything else, Mr. Kyle?”
“Please show our guests to their rooms.”
Manda and Justin stood open-mouthed.
“Make yourselves comfortable. And pray.” Kyle stuffed his feet into boots and grabbed two jackets from the back entry before setting off across a rock-studded field.
It worried him that Lyssa hadn’t worn her hiking boots. He always watched his every step in this field. She might have turned an ankle or twisted a knee and gone down hard, cracking her head.
Lord, protect her
.
When he’d run out of breath, he paused and listened for some sound, searched for some sight of her. From where he stood, still a quarter of a mile back from the shore, only the pounding of the breakers reached his ears. He watched them shoot water and foam ten feet straight up. If she’d ventured near she could have been swept out on a wave.
Protect our love
.
“Lyssa!” Despite the desperation in his voice, there was no response.
Had they ever come this way together?
Once. Last April
. The pear trees had been in blossom when they’d come down from London. Lyssa had been panicked that weekend, because her fellowship position in London had not been renewed, due to cuts in funding.
As soon as Fiona had mentioned that the bloom was on the pears, Lyssa had brightened and asked if they could hike to see them. The sight of the white blossoms had turned around her mood, even if it hadn’t solved her employment problem.
There wouldn’t be white blossoms today, but knowing Lyssa’s spirit and the time of year, she might just wonder about a partridge and strike out for a look.
He changed course.
He’d hiked twenty minutes more when he spotted her sitting on a rock the size of his Jaguar, chatting on her phone. The untended orchard of fruit trees stood just past her, protected from the winds off the ocean by an evergreen windbreak that some long-deceased farmer had planted. The pear trees were naked, and there was no sign of a partridge.
“Lyssa.”
She turned at the sound of his voice and waved to him, her smile brighter than the setting sun. She finished her phone conversation by saying, “Kyle’s here, so Justin and Manda must have arrived. Hug the twins for us. Love you.”
He approached the rock and raised his hands in surrender. “You’ve learned all my surprises.”
She smiled, and he laughed. She scrambled across the rock and jumped the last few feet into his arms. He held her tight to him. “I am so sorry for putting all these plans in motion without discussing it first, sweetheart. I honestly wanted to surprise you and relieve you of all the work and worry, and it’s backfired so horribly. Can you ever forgive me?”
“If you promise we’ll do things together after this.”
“I promise.” He held her at arm’s length. “You could have been hurt coming out here alone.”
“You’re right, and I should have worn my boots. My ankles gave out before I made it to the pear trees. I’ve been sitting on that rock hoping you’d come. I’d have called the house if you hadn’t come by the time Gianessa and I finished.” She glanced at her phone. “We talked for over an hour.”
“Yes, and we’ll be walking in the dark if we don’t get a move on. How is Gianessa?”
“She’s enjoying some downtime with Justin gone. She pointed out everything you and she have been doing for me. The lessons, the mentoring, the wardrobe, your wedding plans. You made her promise to keep it all secret. It was sweet and generous of you both.”
“I don’t suppose she mentioned anything about Justin buying a house?” He could hear the grudge in his own voice.
Lyssa rubbed his back. “Now you know how it feels to have someone go behind your back. Yes, apparently you tried to buy 57 Seneca Street and ran into some difficulty or other.”
“Red tape as a non-citizen. Then Mum was rushed to the hospital, and I let it drop for the time being.”
“Well, Justin bought it for us as a wedding gift.”
“What?” Hands at her waist, he lifted her and swung her in a full circle. “That’s insane.”
Her laugh rang out across the field.
Lyssa faced the front of the chapel.
You’re here, right, God?
Manda inspected the hem of the bride’s gown. “It’s the perfect length with your new, three-inch heels. Can you walk okay in them?”
There’d been a flurry of activity the day before when the fitting revealed that the hem of Manda’s wedding gown—the “something borrowed”—was too long. Since it was impractical to shorten the dress, Karin had purchased new white heels and put the shoebox on the afternoon train for Kyle to pick up that evening. “Something old” was Hortense’s emerald. And Gianessa had sent two ice-blue angora-and-cashmere shrugs, the exact shade of the matron-of-honor’s gown, to keep their shoulders warm in the drafty chapel.
Lyssa didn’t hear or answer the question about the fit of the shoes. She’d caught Kyle’s eye as he chatted with Justin and the minister at the altar. He smiled and her heart hammered.
“He’s incredibly handsome, isn’t he?” she said to no one in particular. “And the morning coat perfectly matches his eyes.”
Manda accepted two bouquets from the florist and gushed over them. “Totally gorgeous. Did you design them?”
“Yes, miss. I do all the designs. We’re so honored to provide the flowers and arrangements for the Pennington wedding.”
“You’re very talented. Lyssa loves the sprays on the altar.”
“Then she’ll love the flowers at Trelynn Manor.”
“Lyssa, look.”
“These are beautiful,” Lyssa said when she saw the bouquets. She took her straight-up bouquet of red roses, white lilies, and holly greens and berries wrapped with red ribbon. “Look, Manda, mine has a bit of mistletoe.”
“It’s to make up for the lily of the valley that we couldn’t get. And, miss, I know you wanted pink, but when our roses came in, the pink were not suitable for a bride’s bouquet. We had to send them back.”
“The red roses are stunning with the holly berries. And they match my nail polish, how lucky. I love this bouquet. I want a million pictures with it.”
The florist beamed. “All ready then? I’ll scoot round to my seat and let you lovely ladies take your places.”
When she’d gone, Manda and Lyssa exchanged a puzzled glance. “What comes next?” Lyssa asked.
“We wait for the signal and then we process. Remember what we decided?”
The four of them—Kyle, Lyssa, Justin, and Manda, all strong-willed, smart adults—had debated for an hour the night before about the wedding procession. Justin had expected to walk Lyssa down the aisle, but seeing the look of dismay on his fiancée’s face at Justin’s suggestion, Kyle had insisted that Justin stand at his side for the duration “for moral support.”
At Kyle’s wink to her, Lyssa had smiled. “I agree. What about Mum? Kyle, what’s best for her?”
“Mum wants to walk to her place of honor, with the new cane that Justin brought from New York. The florist has made a lovely red bow with a sprig of holly for it. I’m for her arriving in a chair at the side door. From there, Justin and I will walk on either side of her to her pew. She expects her own hymn so she’s in the spotlight for several minutes, if that’s all right with Lyssa.”
At Lyssa’s nod, Kyle had continued, “Once Mum’s settled, Justin and I will take our places. The minister will nod to you ladies. And, when you’re all set, Manda will raise her bouquet a good six inches. That’s the cue for the organist to launch into the bridal chorus. So. Tell us how you and Manda will process.”
Lyssa had said, eyes fixed on her sister, “I want us to walk side-by-side, with you on my left. When we reach the front, you’ll take my flowers, please, because I’ll forget to hand them off.”
At Manda’s smile, she’d swallowed nervously and said to Kyle, “And you’ll reach for my hand, please, and guide me to my rightful place.” At Kyle’s nod, Lyssa had added, “Last and most important, Justin will have our rings. Yes?”
Justin had smiled and given a silent nod, his eyes moist.
Manda squeezed her sister’s waist now. “It’s time. Mum is settled. The minister is nodding to us. I’m taking my place on your left. Talk to me, Lyssa.”
“We decided we’d do step-pause, starting with the left foot, in time with the music. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“And we can expect the organist to do something outrageous as payback,” she reminded Manda. “We will handle it in a dignified manner. Ready?”
“Let’s do it.” Manda lifted her bouquet.
In retaliation for the no-flower-girl decision, the organist sprinkled a few flat notes into the opening chords of the time-honored processional. Lyssa caught Kyle’s eye, and they grinned at each other. Manda swore under her breath.
Three loud cracks came from the front pew.
“Is that Mum rapping her cane?”
“Exactly,” Manda told her. “Justin’s trying not to laugh.”
Kyle parked the Jaguar in the drive, short of the front entry. As he walked around to Lyssa’s door, he gazed at the heavens. “Stars tonight,” he told his bride. “That’s good luck for Cornish newlyweds, you know.”
“I believe it.” She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked arm-in-arm up the stone stairs.
Kyle pushed open the front door, swept her into his arms and carried her across the threshold. “I believe I can make it up the stairs and to the bedroom with you.”
“No, please. I need one of Fiona’s sandwiches first. She promised she’d have some ready.”
“You didn’t get enough to eat at the reception?” He set her down. “The caterers did a delicious job.”
“They did. I was too nervous to eat except the quiche.”
“You were too busy talking with your fans. What are their names?”
“Darcy and Linda. Thank you so much for inviting them. How did you get on to them as fans and what did you say in the handwritten note included with their invitations?”
“They told you about that, did they?” He kept his arm across her shoulders on the way to the kitchen. “I knew they were fans because someone told someone who told someone else that the redheaded beauty who visited Pennington House most weekends last year was the Savvy Spender. It got back to Fiona that they wished they could meet you sometime.”
“And . . .”
“And I directed Shelly, the girl who handled all the invitations, to add a personal note to those two ladies.”
“Which said . . .”
“That the bride was the Savvy Spender who dearly wanted to chat with them at the reception.” He swung onto a stool as she opened the refrigerator. “Not knowing who they were or what they looked like, I thought that would insure they’d speak up in the reception line.”
“Which they did. It was brilliant of you, my darling husband. We had a grand chat, the three of us.”
“Tell me more.”
“They had put my advice to use in their homes and then tried to tell other women. But they found they couldn’t answer questions with any confidence. What we talked about for so long was how to fix that.”
“Why are you nibbling cheese instead of sandwiches?” he asked as she perched on the stool next to his.
“Justin and Manda and Mum got to them first and demolished them. Manda left a cute little note on the empty plate.”
“Will you starve?” He stroked her cheek.
“No, but the two fans, Darcy and Linda, want me to consider doing some local programs on finances for women in the south west of England and perhaps for schoolchildren and young adults. What do you think, Kyle?”
He beamed at her. “I think you’ve found your calling, luv, and I couldn’t be more pleased.”
She held out a piece of cheese for him, and he took a nibble.
“Are you terribly disappointed, sweetheart, that we’re spending our wedding night at Pennington House?”
“It’s perfect for tonight.” She slid off her stool and took his hand. “We’re off to London late morning, are we?”