Of course. She could forget having a happy, relaxed party amongst friends on the island. The announcement of their impending marriage would be made amongst people she didn’t know at a stiff, formal ball.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Xavier probed when she bit down on her lip.
‘No. Of course not.’
‘In two weeks’ time.’
‘So soon?’ Her heart flipped over. ‘Will that be enough time to arrange everything?’
Xavier gave her an amused look. Anything was possible for Don Xavier Del Rio. She’d better get used to it, though a second encounter with high society was not the best start to the plan that she had so boldly put in motion. She could tell he was pleased, because he’d take over now. Their marriage of convenience would be over and done with at breakneck speed.
* * *
The night of the ball had arrived. He stared at his stern, formally dressed reflection in the mirror, wondering if Rosie was ready for this. Their last meeting had been here, and when she’d left her face had brightened as if she’d expected him to take her in his arms and seal their bargain with a tender kiss. For her sake, he had resisted any show of affection. It would be wrong to pretend that this wedding was anything more than a convenience for both of them. He admired Rosie for the strength and grace with which she came through the problems she faced, but his cold nature, forged in the bitter past, always triumphed in the end.
He felt nothing for Rosie. So why was he still thinking about her?
His only interest was in seeing how the evening played out, he told himself firmly. Rosie had guts. She would get through it. She had elected to play hardball, and now she had to prove that she could.
Members of so-called high society were already arriving at his gates. The cathedral would be crammed for their wedding. His scandalous match with his late aunt’s housekeeper must have kept dinner tables alive with gossip since the invitations went out. Even the ambassador had changed his schedule in order to attend both the wedding and the ball, and the cream of Spanish society would join his guests tonight, together with several members of the royal family. This would not be a low-key affair. Margaret was in charge of arrangements, so he had every confidence that it would all go smoothly. Rosie would not be allowed to put a foot wrong. It remained to be seen what his guests thought of her, but it was what he thought when he saw her after several days apart that intrigued him. His mind was a blank canvas where that was concerned. Would he feel anything more than some fleeting lust when Señorita Clifton arrived at the ball?
* * *
She couldn’t have done this without Margaret’s help, Rosie reflected, wishing her heart would calm down. It had been thundering for most of the day as she contemplated the evening ahead. Seeing Xavier again was even more daunting than facing his guests at the ball. She’d know at once what he was thinking. She would be able to read his thoughts in his eyes. He might be resigned, or impatient, or... No. Hoping he’d be pleased to see her was too much to ask.
Ball gowns weren’t exactly her area of expertise, Rosie fretted as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Do I look all right?’
‘You look beautiful,’ Margaret assured her as she bustled about, tweaking Rosie’s ankle-length gown.
When Margaret had knocked on the door of her suite at the hotel, Rosie had welcomed the friendly older woman with open arms. Finding a ball gown and a wedding dress in the time available was way beyond her scope. She had been busily scouring the pages of a magazine, wondering which of the grand boutiques would be likely to let her through the door in her custard dress, when Margaret arrived. She was more a jeans and T-shirt girl, and after the fiasco of the red dress she couldn’t risk another disaster. Margaret’s down-to-earth encouragement turned out to be just what she’d needed.
Margaret’s approval meant a lot to Rosie. She believed she could trust her to give her an honest opinion. That was what she was waiting for now as Margaret walked a full circle around her.
‘I love the gown,’ Margaret said as she stared critically at Rosie from every angle. ‘It’s really stylish, and I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful.’
‘I wouldn’t have had a clue what to choose for the ball without you,’ Rosie admitted, ‘and I certainly wouldn’t have known where to shop for it.’
Margaret laughed at this. ‘But now you know that when Xavier is involved the designers come to you.’
‘And work through the night to get the dresses ready in time,’ Rosie added, still marvelling at what was possible for the rich and famous. The designers must have thought it was a love match to rush about as they had. If they’d known the truth, perhaps they wouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic about it, though the scandal alone would make them famous.
‘Are you happy, Rosie?’ Margaret asked with genuine concern in her voice.
Was she happy? Rosie stared at her face in the mirror, wishing with all her heart that she could confide her fears about the future to Margaret. ‘Of course I’m happy,’ she said brightly in an attempt to reassure the older woman.
‘Then, let’s go,’ Margaret prompted.
It was too late to change her mind now. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she held her head up high as they left the suite together.
* * *
He had expected Margaret and Rosie to arrive long before now. What was keeping them? Surely it was just a matter of picking a dr
ess that fitted and putting it on?
He shifted position impatiently, his stare fixed on the door. All his guests had arrived, and were waiting, as he was, for the most important guest of the night. The evening couldn’t have been more perfect. All the doors into the garden had been opened and the sky was littered with stars. The moon was suspended like a silver crescent, resting back on a velvet bed. The orchestra was playing, candles were lit, and chandeliers glittered. Champagne and conversation flowed freely. The ball was already deemed a success. ‘And with the additional treat of your special announcement,’ one elderly lady had just cooed in his ear. ‘None of us can wait for that.’
He could imagine. He disliked being on everyone’s tongue and the sooner this was over, the better, as far as he was concerned. The scandal sheets were full of it with incendiary comments about the unsuitability of his marriage. He expected rumbles to go on for quite a while, until some new cause célèbre burst upon the public consciousness and everyone forgot about him. He could only hope Margaret had steered Rosie in the right direction. After the unfortunate red dress, a mistake now would attract derision, which would in turn keep the gossip running. Most of his guests were good people, but they did love to talk, and there were piranhas amongst them who loved nothing more than to see a person fall. He could take their scorn, but beneath her bravado Rosie was vulnerable to attack, and, whatever else this match promised, he would not stand by and see her bullied.