Ceinlys hesitated. She’d been intending to move to the south of France before Thanksgiving, but those plans would need to be put in abeyance if she agreed to help Jane. “Have you considered hiring a professional wedding planner?”
Jane nodded. “Most of ’em said it would be impossible. They didn’t even want to try!”
“Does your father intend to pay for the wedding?” Ceinlys asked, her tone not unkind. The Connollys weren’t destitute, but they didn’t have much money either. Jane’s father might not have the budget for a rush wedding that would be considered grand enough. On the other hand, men had their pride.
Ceinlys’s own father had fought with Shirley over who should pay for the wedding. Since Shirley was determined not to have a “penniless social climber” get in the way of a grand society wedding for her son, she had plowed over Ceinlys’s father’s objections. And since the only thing Ceinlys had cared about was marrying Salazar, she’d looked the other way, then asked her father to just go along with whatever Shirley wanted instead of letting his pride get in the way of her happiness.
She suppressed a small sigh. Things had gone wrong from very early on, even before the ceremony.
Jane dropped her gaze, staring at her hands. “Well… I think he’d like to. I’m sure we can work within what he can afford.”
“Of course.” Ceinlys pressed her lips together in thought, then said, “What if your family pays for the wedding, and we pay for the reception? That would be equitable—after all, it is Iain’s wedding too. I don’t hold with the antiquated notion that the bride’s family must bear the full burden, do you?”
“Um. I don’t mind, but is it really okay?”
“This is the twenty-first century, my dear. Just like we no longer ask for proof of virginity from the bride, we shouldn’t ask that the family beggar themselves either. Weddings are expensive.” She patted Jane’s hand. “Talk to your father and see what he says. Or, if you’d like, I can speak with him myself…”
Jane jerked as though she’d been shocked. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll talk to him. Thank you.” She sighed. “Iain has been adamant about…you know.” She fidgeted. “And I didn’t want to fight.”
“Iain can be stubborn. As I’m fairly certain you know by now.”
“Yeah.” Jane cleared her throat. “I thought you might side with him on this.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’re his mother. You want the best for him, don’t you?”
“The best doesn’t always mean the most expensive.” Ceinlys tilted her head and studied the girl. She looked so young…like she was barely out of college. “I can help you with the wedding, but it’ll force me to change my plans.”
Jane’s face didn’t register surprise.
“You know, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I heard you were moving. To Provence, right?”
“Yes. I was planning to go before Thanksgiving.”
“So soon?”
“The arrangements don’t take that long when you put your mind to it. But I can postpone things a bit.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was heart-felt.
Ceinlys laid a hand on Jane’s thin shoulder. “Promise me something.”
“Sure!”
Ceinlys almost smiled at the eagerness. Jane had no clue, did she? Of course not. She wasn’t like Hilary, who was older and headstrong enough to be able to stand up for herself. Otherwise Mark would’ve never made such a spectacle of himself. And Ginger…Well. She and Shane had been together for a long time. She knew a lot of his flaws, probably better than Ceinlys, and the reverse was likely true. As for Sophia, the girl had serious grit combined with mule-headedness—she had to be in order to be a world-class athlete…and to deal with Dane’s icy personality. Besides, Ceinlys had never seen her oldest son react that way to anyone before. She’d been certain he would end up cold and alone forever.
But Jane…she was different. She was from a small town, young and idealistic. Without her wide-eyed enthusiasm, she would’ve never been able to break through the wall around Iain. At the same time, it was her naïveté that Ceinlys worried about the most. It reminded her of her younger self—of a time when she’d thought love could conquer anything.
In reality, love conquered very little.
“Don’t agree before you know what I’m asking for,” Ceinlys said coolly. “This is not going to be an easy promise to keep.”
Jane’s throat worked.
“Promise me you will always be honest with my son, even if it means you may have to give up your pride or humble yourself.”
“Ceinlys…”
“If you can’t, don’t proceed with the wedding.”
Jane gaped at her. “Do you want me to call it off?”
“Do you want to call it off, my dear?”
“Of course not!”
“I’m not asking you to be honest with everyone. Not even me. But I don’t want you to lie to Iain. About anything.” I don’t want your marriage to end up like mine.
But it’s my own fault, Ceinlys thought, staring into her future daughter-in-law’s eyes. She should’ve never told Olivia Fairchild that she’d married Salazar for money, no matter how snide and passive-aggressive Olivia had been.
Money, of course. What else?
Ceinlys pulled her hand away from Jane’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what you think you have with my son. If there is no truth between the two of you, there will be nothing. So promise me.” She watched the girl.
Eyes clear and steady, Jane nodded. “I promise.”
“Excellent.” Ceinlys took the final few sips of her macchiato. The girl thought she knew what she was promising, but life had yet to teach her much. “Do you have some time?”
“Sure.” Jane checked her watch. “I don’t have to see Sophia until lunch.”
“Very well. Let’s see what we can manage between now and Christmas Eve, shall we?”
* * *
Salazar Pryce watched as his housekeeper placed the plate in front of him—a three-egg omelet cooked to perfection, with cheese and diced bell peppers, crispy bacon strips on the side. A basket sat to his left, full of warm croissants and rolls ready for buttering. Steam rose from hot coffee, and all was as it should be as she moved aside, leaving him alone in the sunny room.
Another typical morning.
Except it wasn’t.
There was an emptiness to the vast mansion that gnawed at him, and the table felt entirely too large for a single person. He dismissed both feelings as he sipped the coffee. He and Ceinlys hadn’t eaten breakfast together in a while, even when they’d been married and living together. And on the infrequent occasions they had, they’d remained silent, pointedly ignoring each other.
The Pryce family butler, Al, put a copy of the Wall Street Journal on the table, and he glanced down at the gray sheets, barely noticing the headlines.
Your money was never a consideration. I would’ve married you even if you had nothing.
She’d looked at him like he’d gutted her.