CHAPTER THREE

      CLAIRE felt weak and tired from lack of sleep. Or perhaps it was more from the constant tension, the terrible demons that had tormented her since yesterday evening, followed by the drama of the morning. This wasn’t the time to be making any lifetime decision but she wanted the fairy-tale and she wanted Trader. The happy ever after.

      Her lips parted. He might be a bastard. Have a terrible past. She had no way of knowing. But if he left, she’d never know and she’d always wonder. The scales slid one way, hovered, and then tipped precariously in the opposite direction. He swore that he loved her and she believed him. Without him she was only half a person. She had no choice but to marry him, whatever the consequences, or she’d regret it for ever.

      ‘Yes,’ she whispered helplessly.

      ‘Thank God!’ he muttered and gave her a sudden grin. ‘The condemned man lives again! I’ve been pronounced innocent of the crimes.’ Claire smiled wanly. ‘You look shattered. I’ll get Phoenix to help repair your make-up——’

      ‘No!’ she protested. ‘I want Sue——’

      ‘Phoenix,’ he insisted. ‘I can trust her not to say anything. She has my best interests at heart. Remember, you felt ill. Lack of sleep, nerves…Your mother must never know about your doubts. I’ll tell everyone you’re on your way.’

      He was through the door before she could insist. In a panic, she staggered to the small washbasin and peered at herself in the mirror above. Rivulets of tears had made inroads into the make-up that Sue had helped her with earlier in an attempt to liven up her wan face. She heard Trader talking to Phoenix and hastily rubbed her thumb to smudge make-up across the telltale tear-streaks.

      ‘Hello, Claire,’ said Phoenix warmly, coming over and giving her a hug. ‘You poor little scrap! I’m sorry I gave you a fright. How wan you look—and no wonder! What awful things must have gone through your mind about this reprobate!’ She exchanged a fond smile with Trader and turned back to Claire. ‘Forgive me?’ she asked, with a catch in her voice.

      ‘Yes,’ answered Claire huskily. ‘It—it actually gave us some breathing space to talk things through.’ Her face lifted to Phoenix’s. ‘I know he loves me now,’ she said shyly.

      ‘Of course you do!’ cooed Phoenix. She found her compact and began sweeping a block powder over Claire’s face. ‘I’d better do your mascara,’ Phoenix sighed. ‘You’re really not used to wearing make-up, are you?’

      ‘She doesn’t need it,’ broke in Trader lovingly.

      ‘Course she does!’ scoffed Phoenix. ‘She’s got to do something to tone down that orange hair. Lord, Trader, you can’t go around looking suave and sophisticated with a little Irish colleen in tow! Look up, Claire…You need lashings of mascara on those ginger lashes. Better!’

      Phoenix smiled, unaware that her words had worried Claire. Close up, Phoenix was incredibly beautiful, her pale, alabaster skin flawless, her dark hair drawn back from her face to show its incredible bone-structure, the elegantly understated hat giving her an enviably confident air. This woman knew more about Trader than she did, thought Claire wryly.

      ‘Leave her alone! I love my Irish colleen. I could eat her!’ chuckled Trader happily. ‘Come here!’ Like a fool, she obeyed before she could think, detaching herself from Phoenix’s detaining hand. Trader pulled her to his body. ‘This is for the woman I love,’ he murmured.

      His mouth claimed hers in a gentle kiss. It disarmed her, persuading her to forget everything in her mind, obliterating everything, removing the armour completely. Her own lips flowered beneath his and she felt herself growing boneless in his arms.

      ‘Trader!’ complained Phoenix, close to her ear. ‘You’re ruining her lipstick, darling!’

      He laughed exultantly, a fevered light in his eyes when they met Claire’s bewildered, blinking gaze. Phoenix dabbed at his lips in a sisterly fashion and then clucked crossly over the smudge at the corner of Claire’s mouth, trying to elbow Trader out of the way as she repaired the damage.

      ‘Trader…It will be all right, won’t it?’ faltered Claire, too worried to be put off by Phoenix.

      He smiled his tender smile and she was lost in the glittering depths of his eloquent eyes. ‘You’re very precious to me,’ he said huskily.

      Then, before she could respond—or even crush the treacherous thought that she had a very precious dowry, he was striding out into the church with her hand tucked in his, excitedly hauling her breathless body past a line of gaping choirboys, past her mother, who kissed her and sniffed away a tear or two, till she came to rest beside her worried-looking father again.

      ‘Claire’s fine. We’re ready,’ said Trader with a ringing satisfaction.

      And the ceremony began again. Throughout, Claire felt a bittersweetness in her heart. All her life, she’d dreamed of this moment and now it had come, it wasn’t as she’d imagined. Even Trader’s loving glances didn’t ease her ache, however hard she tried to tell herself that her love would be enough.

      ‘You’re very quiet,’ he said gently, during the photographs afterwards.

      ‘You do love me?’ she blurted out, to her deep embarrassment. ‘Hey, listen to me!’ she joked uncomfortably. ‘I sound like a whining wife already! I mean——’

      He was laughing, the lines around his eyes and mouth creasing appealingly. ‘You look up at me with that incredible sweet face, wearing that gorgeous dress filled with your glorious body and you ask me if I——’

      ‘I mean love,’ she said in reproach. ‘Not physical attraction.’

      ‘I hadn’t finished. Sexual attraction is an important part of what I feel for you but it’s not enough to make me rush into marriage.’

      ‘What