Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Sorry, Mummy—you’re right. I shall straighten up and fly right. At least for today,” Peter promised.
“Speaking of that, whatever happened to what’s her name? That girl you were stringing along in case Celia didn’t come back?” his mother asked.
“Oh, Madison, you mean? I cut her loose last night, after I spoke to Cece and knew she was coming back. She was quite heartbroken, I’m afraid—she thought we were having a whirlwind romance.”
“Just as well you didn’t have to marry her instead,” Mother Frances remarked. “Since she was holding out on signing the prenuptial agreement.”
“Yes, she was a bit of a gold digger, was our Madison—though she was excellent in bed. Sorry, Mummy,” Peter said quickly when his mother made a disapproving face. “She kept saying I was rich and I could afford to at least give her something if I ‘deserted her.’ Anyway, I used her refusal to sign as the reason we were ‘breaking up.’”
“As well you should! Greedy girl.” Mother Frances made that sour face again.
“Yes, well, she was sobbing and promising to sign by the end, but I finally got rid of her.” Peter dusted his hands together, as though brushing off some unmentionable substance. “And now I’m free—just in time for the wedding.” He smiled charmingly, as though he hadn’t just been talking about using some poor girl as a backup for Celia and then tossing her aside the minute he didn’t need her anymore.
“I’m just glad you’re finally getting this done,” Mother Frances remarked. “Just imagine if all that money your father left you went to that homeless charity instead of into the family bank accounts where it belongs! Honestly, your father went too far when he drew up his last will and testament.”
“Well, it’s all worked out in the end,” Peter remarked. He looked at the expensive Swiss timepiece on his arm. “By one o’clock today, I’ll officially be the richest member of the Thielgood family. Merry Christmas to me!”
Then scene in the mirror winked out as abruptly as it had started and Celia was left standing there, staring at her own reflection again, her eyes wide with horror and her stomach in knots.
She felt sick—physically ill.
“Madre de Dios, this can’t be true,” she muttered to herself. “I must have imagined all that. I…I’m sleep deprived. I’m not thinking right. There’s no way the Kindred Goddess just showed me my future husband and Mother-in-Law plotting together in a magic mirror. This is crazy!”
“Think what you like, daughter,” the strong, feminine voice spoke again. “I have shown you the true hearts of those you would enter into a contract with. You will be given one more chance to choose your fate. When you are…choose wisely.”
Then the voice went abruptly silent and the feeling that someone else was in the room with her was gone. Celia was all by herself again…but now she had no idea what to believe or what to do. Was she going crazy? Was this some kind of a nightmare and she was about to wake up? Was—
There was a brief tapping on the door and Mother Frances came back in.
“Cece, darling—are you ready to go?” she asked and began fussing with Celia’s veil. “The ceremony’s about to begin!”
“What…what did Bircher want?” Celia asked. The words seemed to stick in her throat but she forced them out anyway.
“Oh, he was just asking if you wanted him to walk you down the aisle,” Mother Frances said quickly. “He heard that you didn’t have a father or an uncle to do it, so he volunteered—wasn’t that sweet of him? I always say that he’s not just the Thielgood family’s lawyer—he’s actually part of the family.”
“Oh, he…he did?” Celia wanted to feel relieved. It was a plausible explanation—certainly more plausible than the idea that the Kindred Goddess herself had paid her a visit and showed her the nefarious schemes of her husband and Mother-in-Law to be in the mirror.
I must have imagined the whole thing, she thought. I’m so tired and stressed. Probably the hormones from the pregnancy are making me hallucinate!
That must be the explanation, she told herself. Nothing else made sense.
“So do you? Want him to walk you down the aisle?” Mother Frances raised her eyebrows. “After all, it’s rather sad, you walking yourself down the aisle with no one to give you away.”
Celia lifted her chin. This was an argument they’d had before and she wasn’t prepared to change her answer.
“Thank you so much, Mother Frances and please thank Bircher for me too, but I’ll be fine walking myself down the aisle.”
“All right, well…suit yourself, dear.” Mother Frances sighed and then perked up. “Oh my—do you hear that?” she whispered, squeezing Celia’s arm in excitement. “It’s the first strains of the Wedding March. Come on—it’s time to go!”
And she hustled Celia out the door, towards the entrance of the chapel.