Wanted: Groom For a Day

“I’d be crying too if I’d helped condemn some poor sod to a life of misery,” Noah, Viscount Ravenhill, whispered into Lucy’s ear and spoiled the moment she’d been working towards for an entire year.

Hundreds of phone calls, emails and meetings had gone into the planning of this wedding and she deserved a few happy tears along with the bride. At least her professional life as one of Belfast’s leading wedding planners was going from strength to strength. Even if her own role as bride-to-be had been doomed from the start.

“Unlike you, not all men are allergic to romance.” The trick was finding one. Unfortunately, Rupert had gone to the dark side right along with him. Lucy dabbed her eyes with the lace handkerchief she kept with her for all her clients’ big days. Although lately she had been using it more to mop up her own sorrow.

“It’s being tied to the same person for the rest of my life I have an issue with.” The next Earl of Ravenhill smirked down at her, one eyebrow arched in that villainous manner he used to great effect.

With his dark hair, deep brown eyes, and blatant cynicism, the man was the embodiment of a black cloud hanging over every one of her functions here. They were polar opposites. Lucy liked to think her blonde haired, blue eyed, appearance reflected her usual bubbly personality. In her eyes, she and Noah were light and shade, good versus evil, in the battle of romance.

Despite his obvious dislike for her line of work, he insisted on being present in case any of the guests ‘interfered’ with the valuable fixtures and fittings in the stately home. Lucy reckoned it was more about getting his kicks from winding her up. She wasn’t sure which of his annoying traits got her back up more—the unwelcome flirting, or the constant ridicule at her idea of finding her happy ever after.

If the castle wasn’t one of her favourite places in Northern Ireland, she’d keep well away from him and his scepticism. All of her life she’d been planning her own wedding and still got a thrill watching her clients tie the knot. Every adoring smile exchanged with the vows, each tender touch during the photo shoot went some way to reaffirming her belief that true love existed. A validation that her parents’ blissful union hadn’t simply been a figment of a poor orphan’s overactive imagination.

However, the heir to the Ravenhill estate sought to dismiss the notion of a soul mate altogether. The constant changing faces of his plus one certified his ‘rake’ status. Definitely not husband material. Although, still smarting from her recent break-up, she was beginning to doubt her judgement on the subject of potential life partners.

“I’m sure with your impressive list of contacts you could find one woman who isn’t into bondage.” God help the woman who thought she could tame him.

Noah snorted and drew the attention of the back row of wedding guests assembled in the Victorian conservatory.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy mouthed. She turned to scowl at the snorter with her finger on her lips. He merely shrugged his shoulders, apparently finding the whole thing amusing.

Lucy, however, had a reputation to maintain. Once all eyes rightfully returned to the bride and groom at the top of the aisle, she moved away from the troublemaker. She needed to concentrate on the wedding party and put aside any petty squabbles or personal problems which had no place here today.

So far everything had fallen into place. Due to Lucy’s meticulous attention to detail, everyone had arrived on time looking beautiful in their finery. Ashley, today’s bride, had chosen a magnificent gown with miles of ruffled white silk. It might have been too over the top for some, but Lucy understood every girl’s need to look like a princess on the biggest day of their lives. After all, she’d had her own white dress hanging in her wardrobe since she’d earned her first big paycheck.

She glanced at her watch. There was no time for wallowing or daydreaming when one thing out of place had the potential to derail all her hard work. As Ashley and her new husband went to sign the register, Lucy tip-toed away to check the area where the photographs were to be taken.

The smell of jasmine greeted her in the glass arbour. The background of spectacular floral arrangements and the fabulous indoor water feature were nothing compared to the view outside. Lucy admired the rolling green hills stretched out before her, with Belfast Lough in the distance. It was such a romantic setting, where she’d always imagined walking hand in hand with her new husband. At this moment in time all she wanted to do was stand out there and scream.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand your fascination with this place. How long have we been licenced for weddings? A year? Eighteen months? And every time you come here it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time. I guess I just don’t see the beauty in the place anymore.” Noah sighed somewhere behind Lucy and forced her to turn around.

“Two years, my lord. And, could I suggest if you spent less time stomping on other people’s joy, perhaps, you might find some of your own.” She was done with being nice to him today. With any luck, she could shake him off with an uncharacteristic bout of unkindness.

“Although I enjoy hearing you call me ‘my lord’, since we’ve been acquaintances for two years, do you think you could call me Noah?” He blatantly ignored her need for space and stood his ground next to the bubbling fountain.

“Excuse me, Noah, I actually have work to do.” There was something about saying his name that made her uncomfortable. Perhaps, it was the idea that they were moving into a place beyond the professional detachment she preferred.

“My, my. Something’s ruffled the feathers of our beautiful, serene swan. Did your pet unicorn slip its leash? Or perhaps Prince Charming left the seat up this morning?” He fell back into making jokes at her expense and the idea that she lived in some sort of fairy tale world.

Perhaps she had. Until a heavy dose of reality had brought her crashing back down to earth. “My life is none of your business.”

As there was no clear route past him to escape a rather touchy subject, Lucy turned her attention to rearranging the elaborate flower displays.

“Where is it?” Noah reached out to take her hand before she beheaded a slightly askew lily.

“Where’s what?” She snatched her hand back like she’d been scalded. He had no right to intrude on her personal space or touch her. It was his job to stand aside and make snide comments.

“Your engagement ring. That great big sparkly rock you’ve been blinding me with since we met.” For once his eyes didn’t hold laughter. Only pity.

She couldn’t bear that from him. After so many weeks of feeling sorry for herself, today was supposed to be a turning point, a sign that she could move on. It was important she could face a wedding without mourning her own loss and she certainly didn’t need to rake over old ground.

“We split up.” She resumed the unnecessary floral adjusting.

“You’ve called off the wedding?” After two years of him telling her what a waste of time marriage was, she expected a smug ‘I told you so’. Worse, it seemed he was waiting for her to spell it out to him in minute detail.

Lucy decided there and then she wouldn’t give either Noah, or Rupert, the satisfaction of cancelling her booking. This was her dream and she wasn’t prepared to drop back to the bottom of the waiting list when her day at the castle was already reserved.

“Rupert has decided that he no longer wants to marry me. However, I’m still determined to walk down that aisle in three months’ time to meet my groom.” Whoever he may be. Everything else was already in place and she didn’t want her dream to float away like confetti now.

“If you’re going ahead with this in the hope he’ll come back to you in time, you’re even more deluded than I thought.” He shook his head and although she couldn’t see it, Lucy was sure that smirk was firmly back on his face.

Now they were back to their bickering ways, her conviction to prove him wrong grew stronger. It was her job to create the seemingly impossible and grant a bride’s every wish. She knew how to cope in a crisis, and they didn’t come much bigger than this. How different could finding a last minute groom be to chasing down the right dress at a moment’s notice?

“Scoff all you want. I guarantee you that I will be marrying my perfect man on the 1st of August as planned.”

“And where are you going to find this Stepford groom? Do you take out an ad on Desperate Brides dot com? There’s a lot more to life than getting married you know. I’m sick of people pretending marriage is the key to happiness. It’s not. All this is for show. It means nothing.” He gestured around the room and Lucy knew he wasn’t just talking about the flowers.

To Lucy’s inner romantic it was akin to denying Father Christmas’ existence to a child. “How can you say that? These people are in love. They believe they’re going to have babies and grow old together. What’s wrong with that?”

Noah picked one of the lilies from the vase. “Love is nothing more than a myth to fool the needy into a soul-sucking prison sentence. It might start off as beautiful and fresh, but in the end, it withers and dies.”

He pulled the silky white petals from the stem one by one and let them drift to the floor. Lucy wanted to slap his hand away and refuse to let him destroy something so beautiful.

“I’ll have you know my parents were deeply in love right up until they died.” The words caught in her throat.

Even now in adulthood she couldn’t talk about them without choking up. They’d gone everywhere hand in hand, and even in death couldn’t bear to be parted. She was sure her father had died of a broken heart right after her mother’s passing. Lucy had desperately tried to recreate that strength of love with Rupert and failed.

“Then they were part of the lucky few. Don’t let that dupe you into making a mistake and marrying the wrong guy simply for the sake of it. You don’t want to live the rest of your life with regrets.” He handed her the stripped lily stem.

She couldn’t decide if he was simply a flower vandal or trying to be deep with a ‘You’ll end up an ugly old stick once the bloom wears off’ metaphor.’ No matter, she wasn’t taking relationship advice from the Prince of Doom.

“Thanks for your concern, but I think I have it under control. Now, really, I have a client to see to.” She started away from him, but he side stepped into her path.

“Where does love fit into your plans then? If it’s the be all and end all you can’t very well cross your fingers and hope for the best. You need that spark, that connection which you and bloody Rupert didn’t have.” He did that flirty, intense eye contact thing that always made her squirm.

No doubt the castle floor was littered with the bodies of countless women he’d felled with that dark stare, but it didn’t work on Lucy. Sexy, wealthy men didn’t give her the swoon factor unless they came with wedding accessories.

“You’re right. I got it wrong with Rupert. Perhaps I mistook companionship for love.” She’d also confused a faithful fiancé for a lying, cheating scumbag. Although she had to admit the fact that she was still able to function on a basic level suggested her heart wasn’t broken beyond all repair. That was enough proof he wasn’t the one for her.

“Perhaps he was simply a prat who didn’t deserve you.” Noah finally moved to let her pass.

“In that case, my true love is still out there. And I’ve got three months to find him.” Lucy ignored the groan he gave in response. Rupert was a setback, a lesson to be learned. The next groom needed to want this marriage as much as she did.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Longwood.” Noah introduced the newlyweds at the front of the dining room to a round of applause.

Lucy had been able to ditch him during the photographs, but now as she fussed around in the background, she could see him threading his way through the tables towards her.

“Are you still here?” Subtle hints would never get rid of him.

“It gives them a thrill to have a member of the nobility involved in proceedings.”

She knew very well the female contingent always enjoyed his presence at these things. It didn’t mean she had to like it. Especially when it meant he’d scored a point against her.

They’d started this game of one-upmanship from the first time she’d come here to book her reception. He’d sneered at her enthusiasm even then. Or was it the fact she’d come to discuss her plans minus her fiancé? She couldn’t remember.

What was annoying her more than ever was the possibility that he’d been right all along. Rupert was never going to make her happy. “Well, don’t be sharing your words of wisdom on the institution of marriage within earshot of my clients. We don’t want the bride crying anything but happy tears today.”

Noah staggered back a few steps clutching his chest. “As if I would.”

“I know you would.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. If she had her way, she’d keep him locked up in the west wing where he was supposed to be.

He straightened up and locked eyes with her again. “Joking aside, I need this side of the business to work as much as you do. Where weddings are concerned, I’m willing to let you lead me by the hand.”

He didn’t actually bow to her, but she was pleased he was actually acknowledging she had a business brain behind the chiffon and confetti. Ravenhill Castle meant a lot to her. As a child she’d often fantasised about what the house on the hill looked like inside. Not that she’d admit it to Noah, but part of that fantasy had included marrying the handsome prince who resided there too.

Lucy stole a glance at the reality of her romantic notion. Apart from the missing Royal regalia, he looked remarkably like the incarnation of her childhood dream.

“What?” His forehead wrinkled into a frown as he caught her staring at him.

“Nothing. I was wondering if we should bring the wedding cake out yet.” The fib burned her cheeks. Lies didn’t come easily to her.

“Why? Are you hungry?” He slipped back into the teasing she was used to.

“Are you hungry, Lucy? I’m so sorry I never thought to ask. We have a spare seat at the far table. Auntie Jean was too sick to attend so you’re welcome to join us.” It was just her luck that the bride should pass and overhear Noah’s comment.

“No thanks. I’m only here to ensure everything goes well for you today.” Lucy smiled sweetly, reserving the death stare for Big Mouth standing next to her.

As was his nature, Noah poked the hornets’ nest a little more. “I know for a fact Lucy hasn’t eaten anything since she arrived here this morning. And, she’s recently single. So, if you know any available bachelors…”

“Cousin Alan is at your table. He’s single. Perfect!” Ashley clapped her hands together, obviously still in her blissful bubble.

“Perfect!” Noah clapped his hands together too, like a camp Satan.

“Honestly, there’s no need. Once the speeches are over and the band has set up, I’ll be on my way.” Lucy wanted to back away very quickly. Her plans for tonight included vegging out in her onesie with a weepie film and a family size bar of chocolate. Not being force fed someone else’s happiness.

“Nonsense. You deserve to chill out after everything you’ve done for us today. Doesn’t she, Lord Ravenhill?” The new Mrs. Longwood’s eyes blazed with the madness of a Bridezilla determined to have her own way.

“She so deserves it.” Noah’s brilliant smile displayed perfectly even teeth that Lucy had a sudden urge to knock out one by one.

Before she could protest any further there was a hand at the small of her back propelling her forward. Lucy turned back to look at the co-conspirator standing smugly with his arms folded across his chest.

“I will kill you,” she mouthed, only to set him off into a fit of laughter.

Noah had no reason to hang around after the cake had been cut and the evening celebrations were under way. He had staff who were more than capable of running things. Yet, he felt a responsibility both personally and professionally to stay on. If there were improvements to be made for future events, he would take note and add it to the list of things he had to do.

It was in his best interests to ensure the estate was generating enough revenue to secure the future for everyone at the castle. Since he’d left university, he’d worked hard to repair the financial damage his father had done over the years. It wasn’t that the Earl had been reckless with money, rather he’d been too neglectful. Content to sit and watch the world go by instead of taking an active role, his father had let the castle fall into disrepair. Along with his finances and his marriage.

The investments he’d made in the past were no longer worth the paper they were written on in the current economic climate. It had been left to Noah to find a way to pay the overheads and keep the castle running. After four years away and planning his own future, he’d been forced to return to put the family business in order.

A business was how they had to look at the house now instead of a home. That was easier for Noah to do than his father, when it was full of bad memories. His father, the dreamer tended to only see the good in the place—the history and picturesque landscape—not a sobbing mother. From the day she’d left, his father had retreated further into his study and denial.

The business degree Noah had counted on for his escape now sealed his fate here, imprisoned in the castle for the foreseeable future. Against his father’s wishes, he’d opened the castle to the public. Although the west wing remained a private residence for the family, the rest was a museum showpiece.

Of course, it had taken more money and investment to make the much needed repairs and refurbishment. They’d had to add toilet facilities and a bar to make the conservatory a viable venue for functions. The beautiful surroundings and magnificence of the nineteenth century stately home meant it wasn’t long before they were flooded with requests from hopeful brides.

Given Noah’s attitude to marriage, it was a huge step to take, but a profitable one. And, when Lucy was here with her clients, an enjoyable one. On days when demanding brides and rowing families could send him running for the hills, Lucy was a breath of fresh air. Her enthusiasm for these nuptials, albeit misplaced in his opinion, was charming.

When she walked prospective clients through the grounds, regaling them with the castle’s history she could hardly contain her child like excitement. It was catnip to an old cynic like him. He thrived on the back and forth of their opposing views on love and romance.

By no means did he mean to belittle or diminish her beliefs. It was simply a novelty to find a woman who didn’t bow and scrape to him in an attempt to utilise his position in society. Not that the Ravenhills did much socialising with the elite these days. He’d long grown tired of people only interested in what he could do for them. Equally, those same people drifted away when the family name became associated with failure.

He liked Lucy for a variety of reasons. One of which being that he would never actually act on his attraction to her. Ms. Honeywell was a cling-on. She’d made no qualms about wanting a husband and kids. And, until recently, she had been engaged. She wasn’t a threat. They wouldn’t be right for each other in a million years. She thought love could change the world, when he knew only money held that power.

However, he could not simply stand back and watch her saddle herself with a loser for the rest of her life. One day in a meringue dress didn’t mean a lifetime of hearts and flowers. In his experience it was merely a sentence of heartbreak and tears.

He hoped tonight’s enforced attendance would loosen her up and help her enjoy herself. There was no need for someone so young and beautiful to be so damned serious all the time.

As he watched her drain another glass of wine after picking at her meal, he knew his plan had backfired.

The elderly women who’d been at the table had long gone, leaving her with Cousin Alan, and a young couple too busy swapping saliva to pay her any attention. Lucy was half-slumped in her chair, her eyes not quite focusing on the band on the stage. Her bird-print chiffon dress had ridden up to reveal a little too much of her slender legs. Wait, is that creepy cousin Alan’s hand on her thigh?

Noah crossed the room in three strides to take the seat next to her. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” The unguarded smile told him all he needed to know about her current state of sobriety.

Noah sent an unspoken warning to her companion, scowling until the offending hand was removed from her person. He wanted to get her away from any potential trouble, be it unwanted advances, or damaging her professional reputation.

“Would you like to dance?” Perhaps if he could get her to her feet, he could subtly manoeuvre her towards the exit.

“With you?” She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Unless you’d rather dance with Alan, here?” He got to his feet and waited for her to choose.

Lucy looked at the grinning Alan beside her and back at Noah. She leaned on Alan’s shoulder as she got up, and gave him a pat. “Sorry, Alan.”

Some of the tension left Noah’s body as he took to the dance floor as the victor. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d gone with the moustachioed, seventies-style alternative. In terms of getting her from harm’s way of course, not for the sake of his ego.

The band slowed the pace until all the couples on the floor were swaying in each other’s arms. Noah had no choice but to take Lucy into his. Although there was probably enough room between their bodies to drive a bus through, such was his reluctance to get close.

“Why didn’t you want to dance with me?” he asked when curiosity finally got the better of him.

“You hate me.” Lucy pouted with the sadness of an abandoned puppy.

Noah through his head back and laughed. “I do not hate you. What gave you that impression? I rather like you as it happens.”

It was the truth. Noah didn’t believe in telling lies or hiding facts. Life would be better if people were more honest with each other.

Lucy’s expression changed to excitable puppy. “Really?”

“Really.” Noah attempted to move her across the floor.

“Then why are you so mean to me?” Lucy stubbornly refused to go along with him and dug her kitten heels in.

“I don’t mean to be. I guess it’s my warped sense of humour.” He would have to remember not to take the joke too far with her in future. It was never his intention for his banter to be taken as a personal attack.

Lucy sighed and closed the space between them to lay her head against his chest. It was a shock to him, mentally and physically, to finally cross that invisible line from enemies to friends.

She moved her feet again taking Noah with her, their bodies too close for his comfort. He could feel her warmth and softness through that sheer slip of material she called a dress. Thankfully, her yawn gave him the perfect excuse to call a halt to whatever this was.

“Would you like me to call a taxi for you?” He would have driven her home himself except he’d had a couple of whiskeys himself during the course of the evening.

She nodded against his shirt, roughing the fabric up and down his skin and causing goose bumps everywhere she touched. Taxi. Now.

As he took her hand and led her away, it was like watching a newborn lamb take its first steps.

“How much did you have to drink?” He moved one hand around her waist to keep her upright and steered her back to the table.

She unhooked her handbag from the chair with one hand. “Night, Alan.”

The still single cousin scowled as she patted him on the head.

“I only had a couple of glasses of wine. I swear.” She made the sign of a cross over her heart and began to stagger sideways, almost missing the exit entirely.

“That’s all it takes if you haven’t eaten.” Noah knew she’d regret it come tomorrow morning.

“Promise not to be cross with me.” Lucy bit her lip and reaffirmed the idea that perhaps he’d been too harsh with her in the past.

Excess alcohol usually brought out the worst in people, but somehow it made Lucy even more beguiling.

“I’m not cross at you, but I can’t send you home in this state.” There was no way his conscience would let him dump her in the back of a taxi and hope she got home in one piece.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep here.” She made for one of the settees dotted throughout the halls for the comfort of the guests.

Noah pulled her back before she could settle in for the night. “You can stay in one of our spare rooms in the west wing.”

“Ooh, the west wing. I’ve always wanted to see what you keep back there. Do you have a mad ex-wife locked away from the public?” The very notion of exploring further afield got her animated again, making the job of corralling her even harder.

“Just my father.” Why did the house seem so much bigger when he was trying to get an inebriated wedding planner to bed?

Eventually he got her within swaying distance of where he wanted her. He unlocked the door and switched on the light, all with Lucy hanging from his shoulder. With some difficulty he backed her over to the four poster bed dominating the room.

Lucy plopped down on the mattress, the momentum carrying Noah down on top of her. He levered himself up so he was looking into those big baby blues of hers, all doe-eyed and wanting. He told himself it was only the alcohol making her look at him that way. She worried her lip with her teeth, drawing attention to her mouth. Noah was suddenly curious to find out if she tasted as delicious as she looked.

He captured her lip between his and kissed her slowly. She was soft and comfortable and everything he expected. At first. As he dipped his tongue into her mouth to sample her sweetness, Lucy wrapped herself around him from tongue to toe. Her hands wound into his hair pulling him closer, her legs tangled with his until their bodies were unbearably close. She kissed him like a woman robbed of passion for too long.

Noah’s heart raced and his breath hitched as all the blood in his veins rushed south. As much as he wanted her right now, he couldn’t do this. Not here, not now, not ever. This evening had started off because she deserved more than a useless fiancé. More than him.

With one last lingering perusal of her lips, he reluctantly broke away. “I have to go.”

The look of burgeoning desire darkened her eyes to glittering sapphires.

“You’re very good looking, Noah. Almost the perfect man.” Her voice was husky enough to turn any man to stone.

She sighed. “If only you didn’t insist on speaking.”