Duncan's Bride by Linda Howard

thought of how impatient Reese was and wryly shook her head. “No, I couldn’t, not one more day.”
    He hugged her close, resting his cheek on her bright head. “Then give it all you’ve got, honey, and he’ll never know what hit him. But if it doesn’t work out, don’t punish yourself. Come home.”
    â€œI’ve never heard such a bunch of doubting Thomases before,” she chided. “But thanks for the concern. I love you, too.”
    By the time she went inside, Christine was already crawling into bed. Madelyn picked up the pillow and hit her with it. “You can’t sleep tonight. You have to hold my hand and keep me calm.”
    Christine yawned. “Buy some beer, get wasted and go to sleep.”
    â€œI’d have a hangover on my wedding day. I need sympathy, not alcohol.”
    â€œThe most I can offer you is two aspirin. I’m too tired to offer sympathy. Besides, why are you nervous? You want to marry him, don’t you?”
    â€œVery much. Just wait until you see him, then you’ll know why.”
    One of Christine’s eyes opened a crack. “Intimidating?”
    â€œHe’s very…male.”
    â€œAh.”
    â€œEloquent comment.”
    â€œIt covered a lot of ground. What did you expect at—” she stopped to peer at her watch “—one o’clock in the morning? Shakespearean sonnets?”
    â€œIt’s only eleven o’clock here.”
    â€œMy body may be here, but my spirit is on Eastern Daylight Time. Good night, or good morning, whichever the case may be.”
    Laughing, Madelyn let Christine crash in peace. She got ready for bed herself, then lay awake until almost dawn, both mind and body tense.
    T HE DRESS SHE had bought for the wedding was old-fashioned in design, almost to her ankles, with eyelet lace around the hem and neckline. She pinned up her hair in a modified Gibson girl, and put on white lace hosiery and white shoes. Even though it was just going to be a civil ceremony, she was determined to look like a bride. Now that the day had actually arrived she felt calm, and her hands were steady as she applied her makeup. Maybe she had finally gotten too tired for nervousness.
    â€œYou look gorgeous,” said Christine, who looked pretty good herself in an ice-blue dress that did wonders for her olive complexion. “Cool and old-fashioned and fragile.”
    Fragile was a word Madelyn had never used to describe herself, and she turned to Christine in disbelief.
    â€œI didn’t say you were fragile, I said you looked fragile, which is just the way you’re supposed to look on your wedding day.”
    â€œYou have some interesting ideas. I know the something borrowed, something blue routine, but I always thought a bride was supposed to look radiant, not fragile.”
    â€œPooh. Radiance is easy. Just a few whisks with a blusher brush. Fragile is much harder to achieve. I’ll bet you stayed up nights perfecting it.”
    Madelyn sighed and looked at herself in the mirror again. “I didn’t think it showed.”
    â€œDid you sleep any?”
    â€œAn hour or so.”
    â€œIt shows.”
    When Reese knocked on the door, Madelyn froze. She knew it was Reese, and not Robert. Her heart began that slow, heavy beat as she crossed the room to open the door.
    Reese looked down at her, his expression shadowed by his gray dress Stetson. With his boots on he stood over six-four, closer to six-five, and he filled the doorway. Behind her Madelyn heard Christine gasp, but Reese didn’t even glance at her; he kept his eyes on Madelyn. “Are you ready?”
    â€œYes,” she whispered. “I’m completely packed.”
    â€œI’ll put your suitcases in the car.”
    He was wearing a charcoal pin-striped suit with aspotlessly white shirt. Madelyn recognized both the cut and fabric as being expensive, and knew this must be a suit he’d had before