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bridgertonbabe · 2 years ago

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Friends AU To Do List

Stories I intend to write at some point for my Friends AU in no particular order;

TOW Eloise’s Wedding - (inspired by TOW Phoebe’s Wedding) featuring Eloise losing her rag with her absolute godzilla of a wedding planner that is Daphne, a heavily pregnant Sophie trying her best to avoid giving birth on her sister-in-law’s special day, and Lucy attending her first wedding since running out on her own a few weeks prior.

TOW The Bump On The Head - (inspired by Monica and Rachel babysitting Ben in TOW The Giant Poking Device) featuring Edwina and Eloise babysitting Edmund Jr. and scrambling to hide the bump he receives after Edwina accidentally knocks him into a wood beam while playing with him - ✅

TOW The Beach Mystery - (inspired by TOW The Jellyfish) featuring Benedict and Sophie being confused as to why Anthony, Kate, and Colin are all being so weird after returning from the beach during their holiday, and Anthony realising he’s fallen in love with Kate.

TOW The Hunt For Daphne’s Presents - (inspired by the presents storyline in TOW The Routine) featuring Eloise and Francesca storming the Bassets home to locate the extravagant presents Daphne’s got them for Christmas and recruiting Simon on their mission to sneak a peek at what they’re getting.

TOW The Erogenous Zones Diagram - (inspired by Monica giving Chandler tips in TOW Phoebe’s Uterus) featuring an offended Colin seeking out Penelope’s advice when his girlfriend critiques him for his mediocre performance in bed, Penelope giving him a run-down on how to elevate his skills to the next level and gets herself aroused in front of him, and Colin suddenly seeing his best friend in a brand new light and unable to think about anything else but her.

TOW The Runaway Bride - (inspired by the events leading up to Rachel’s first appearance in TOW Where It All Began/Monica Gets A Roommate/Pilot) featuring Lucy breaking Gregory’s heart by deciding to still go through with her wedding despite being in love with him, saying his name instead of her fiance’s during her vows, and jilting her own wedding to reunite with Gregory.

TOW Hyacinth’s Wedding - (inspired by TOW Monica and Chandler’s Wedding) featuring Gregory threatening Gareth that if he ever hurts Hyacinth that he’ll hunt him down and kick his ass, Gareth getting cold feet after his father rakes up all of his insecurities, and the Bridgerton spouses doing their best to locate the runaway groom before the family catches wind.

TOW Daphne And The Optometrist - (inspired by Monica and Richard’s meeting in TOW Ross and Rachel You Know) featuring Daphne going for an eye test and meeting Anthony’s best friend Simon, followed by a relationship being conducted in secret before a baby deal-breaker leads to a break-up (all of this taking place prior to their drunken Las Vegas wedding).

TOW Anthony Plays The Bagpipes - (inspired by Ross’s audition to perform at Monica and Chandler’s wedding in TOW Joey’s New Brain) featuring Michael and Francesca planning their wedding, Anthony deciding to learn a new instrument, and Michael’s family being Scottish and Francesca’s family being Anthony.

TOW Colin’s Flemish Kisses - (inspired by TOW All The Kissing) featuring Colin having to cover up his relationship with Penelope and not arouse any suspicion by kissing his brothers’ wives as well, and Anthony and Benedict not being too thrilled that their brother’s shoving his tongue down their wives’ throats - ✅

TOW The Lobsters - (inspired by TOW The Prom Video) featuring another throwback to the older generation where George Rokesby’s feelings for Billie Bridgerton are revealed after the Rokesby and Bridgerton siblings watch an old prom video where George came to Billie’s rescue.

TOW Benedict Loves Sophie - (inspired by the S1+2 love story of Ross and Rachel) featuring mystery midnight kissers, missed opportunities, a meddling Michael Stirling, a drunken voice message, and culminating in a romantic kiss in the rain.

TOW Colin Wouldn’t Dream Of Dating Penelope - (inspired by Monica’s story in TOW All The Thanksgivings) - featuring Colin making a blunder, Penelope overhearing something that breaks her heart, and an accident resulting in a rush to the hospital.

TOW The Flat Swap - (inspired by the quiz and it’s aftermath in TOW The Embryos) featuring Anthony and Benedict owning a duck and a crowing chicken, Kate and Sophie challenging them to a quiz with a daring bet, and a result that one team doesn’t want to accept defeat to.

TOW Iris and Jacob Bridgerton - (inspired by The One That Could Have Been) featuring an alternate timeline where Edmund Bridgerton didn’t get a vasectomy after Hyacinth was born and there being 10 children instead of 8, and how the additions of Iris and Jacob alter the lives of their siblings.

#i'm always open to suggestions and there's other ideas i'm considering but that's what t i've got for the time being #friends au

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bree-unabashedly · 2 years ago

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April Harlequin Special Edition Must-Read

Am I in my Harlequin Special Edition reading-Era right now? I just might be and I have no qualms about it. My current read is a Special Edition and over the past few days I've read three others (a post to come on those soon!). Her Man of Honor is an April release (Thank you to the author for sending me a copy) and is book one in Teri Wilson's upcoming Love, Unveiled series. Teri quickly became a go-to author for me; I've really enjoyed the Harlequin's I've read by her as well as her single titles she's published with Hallmark Publishing and Sourcebooks. If you're into royal romances, her Once Upon a Royal Summer with Hallmark Publishing is one of my all time favorite romances and I'm not the biggest royalty romance fan-but I loved it.

Her Man of Honor has best friends to lovers

a jilted bride

a Sex and the City tight-knit girl gang

dognapping

Audrey Hepburn classic movie vibes

surprise pregnancy

all glittered with believable conflict yet woven together in a sparkly way that only Teri Wilson can do.

"I'm supposed to be the love and relationships expert, and I just got left at the altar. You have to admit it's not a good look for the magazine."

The thing about Category Romance is that there is no time for fluff and honestly, that's the thing I love about it. Right from jump we meet Everly mere moments on her wedding day where she has been left at the altar. When Everly is facing a serious life storm she can be found hiding out in the bathroom and in this moment she is accompanied by Ritz crackers and a can of cheese (I've totally been there, but I usually have a glass of Stella Rosa for company!). Her bff and Man of Honor for the wedding, Henry, knows he'll find her there so he goes to be there for her. This very bff moment is really the catalyst for the rest of the plot, it's what gets things moving. This moment leads to a night of passion that changes everything for these two.

Everly is the expert love advice columnist for a wedding online magazine called Veil which as a result of being left at the altar throws her off her game and causes her to start dishing out terrible advice that soon-to-be brides don't need to hear! So she's snatched from her current position and demoted to writing about dog weddings and other random ideas the boss may have...until she can show that she's alright. Jilted at the altar, slept with my best friend...oh yeah, she also finds out she's pregnant and she knows it's Henry's because she and her fiancé hadn't been sleeping together. Henry considers London home though and works for an online travel magazine called Wanderlust. He's a Jetsetter, always on the go...so when Everly finds out she's pregnant and begins evaluating how to tell Henry and how to make co-parenting work, she has a lot to consider.

I shared in my Instagram stories that this book felt like I'd read the book of Teri Wilson's dreams. This book was unputdownable and I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it. Fated Mates recently did a podcast episode on books they wish they could read again for the first time and I immediately became overwhelmed with the feels of, "I wish I could experience the first time reading this," again. While it absolutely delivered on emotional wounds and conflict, it had such a fun tone to it. I feel like Teri Wilson has been plotting away or dreaming about writing this book for years and finally had a moment to. I for one am sure glad she did.

Fantastic read. Five glorious Goodreads stars. Keep it on your radar-you'll thank me later.

xx, Bree

#harlequin #mills and boon #friends to lovers #friends to more #jilted #romance books #romance novels #romancenovel #book review #new books #romance review

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

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The Convenient Groom: 2/12

@spartanguard, here we have chapter two of your gift - the wedding! Some of you asked what sort of advice Emma would give as a relationship counselor, and this chapter gets into a little bit of that. More about it will be revealed as the story develops.I also realize there are a lot of logistical questions involved in the whole "switching grooms" thing, and while I get into some of it here, the rest will be explained in chapter three. I'm just trying to avoid long exposition or info dumps, so hang with me!

Summary: (Is one even necessary? Haha!) Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that.

Rating: M

Words: 4,000 and some change in this chapter

Also on Ao3

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Not all brides handle the stress of their big day the same way. Some get emotional, some get stressed, some freeze. However, most brides don’t stomp around the room in their bare feet fuming. Of course, Emma Swan isn’t most brides, and this isn’t most weddings.

“Emma, seriously, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“The carpet is the least of my worries, Rubes.”

At least Emma’s dress was simple. No voluminous skirt or long train to trip over. Nor was it one of those mermaid styles that forced the bride to shuffle around like a Barbie doll. The simple chiffon skirt swirled around her ankles, and the long slit up her left leg allowed her to move freely. The top of the dress was off the shoulder with a plunging neckline. Emma realized how sexy it was, but that hadn’t seemed to matter when it was going to be Walsh waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Now it was going to be Killian Jones waiting for her. Killian Jones. Her carpenter. Surely this was all a bad dream. That had to be it. Surely she’d wake up any minute now and laugh at the ridiculous scenarios conjured up by her nervous brain.

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered as she continued to stomp around the room.

“You mean Walsh cheating, Walsh jilting you at the altar, or you marrying a random acquaintance?”

Emma wanted to snap at her assistant, but instead she collapsed onto a nearby chair and put her head in her hands. “All of the above,” she groaned.

Ruby sank to her knees in front of Emma and took both of her hands. Ruby hadn’t made the move to Storybrooke with Emma; she’d been too much of a city girl. She normally handled Emma’s schedule from New York - the wonders of the internet - but she had made the trip for the wedding. Emma was relieved to have her here. She wasn’t only Emma’s assistant, she was also her closest friend. Those were admittedly rare in Emma’s life.

“Walsh is an absolute jerk,” Ruby fumed. “I’d like to rip his throat out!”

The door to the bridal suite flew open and Regina, Emma’s agent, came striding in, her heels beating out a staccato rhythm. She stopped right in front of Emma and propped her hands on her hips.

“What is this? You’re falling apart over that bastard? That’s not the Emma Swan I know. The one who tells thousands of women every day to push back and refuse to let a man tell you who you ought to be.”

Emma scowled. “Well excuse me for being heartbroken when I get dumped on my fucking wedding day!” Regina’s no-nonsense approach to . . . well, everything, made her a great agent. It didn’t, however, make her a very good shoulder to cry on.

“I get that, and I’m sorry, really I am.”

Really, Regina? I’m not so sure about that.

“But we’ve got media here, Emma, and I can’t have you a sobbing mess on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life.” She let out a huff, then shoved a stack of papers at Emma. “He signed everything with no argument.”

“Seriously?” Emma took the stack from Regina and flipped through it, though the legal jargon made her already aching head spin.

“It’s a standard gag agreement. I also had a friend of mine write up a quick pre-nup. There’s literally nothing in this for him. It’s strange, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s in love with you,” Ruby teased, giving Emma a little shove and a grin.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Hardly. We bicker like . . . like . . . “

“An old married couple?” Ruby supplied with an arched brow.

“Ruby!” she groaned. “This isn’t the time -”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ruby quickly apologized as she rose to her feet.

“And the wedding license?” Emma asked.

“Taken care of,” Regina assured her. She turned to Ruby. “I need you to run over to the groom’s suite and get Mr. Jones set up with a cordless mic.”

Ruby nodded. “Sure thing.”

Emma rose from the chair as her assistant scurried from the room. She wandered aimlessly to the window that overlooked the strip of beach where the ceremony would take place. She sensed Regina coming up behind her, but the woman didn’t attempt to touch her. That just wasn’t Regina’s way.

“Look, Emma,” she told her sincerely, “I know this isn’t the day you’d dreamed of. But your career is hot right now, and this second book might make even more money than your first. You’d be set for life.”

Emma felt a sudden chill and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to dispel the goosebumps. Being set for life sounded nice, especially after all the years of hunger and homelessness in her past. Like it so often did, her mind also sped back in time to when she was sixteen, abandoned and alone with a baby on the way. She shuddered. What did she even know about this man, Killian Jones? Was Regina right? Would it be simply putting up with a roommate for six months to a year in exchange for the career she’d worked so hard for?

“I know that in my head, Regina. Just give my heart a minute to catch up, okay?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a minute,” Regina briskly replied as she glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, let’s freshen up that hair and makeup.”

Emma let out a long sigh as she sat at the vanity. Regina rushed out of the room to get Ruby, since fussing over a friend’s hair and makeup wasn’t really her thing. Emma watched Ruby’s reflection in the mirror when she came back in and fake-swooned against the door.

“If you ask me, Emma, you traded up. That man is some serious man-candy, especially in a tux.”

Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling in response, though she felt the traitorous blush stain her cheeks. Killian’s good looks weren’t lost on her - she wasn’t blind.

“Help me with these smudges, will you?” she deflected, leaning forward and frowning at where she had smeared her mascara.

Ruby rushed up to join her, swiveling Emma’s stool so she was facing her. She went to work on Emma’s eye makeup with confident precision.

“If you do decide to go through with this annulment thing, I’ll gladly take him off your hands.”

Ruby winked at her, and Emma laughed. “If?”

Ruby shrugged as she turned Emma back to face the mirror. “You could find worse to grow old with, that’s all I’m saying.”

Emma’s hair, which she was wearing loose and flowing around her shoulders, didn’t need much help from Ruby, thank goodness. No surprise, considering the entire can of hairspray Ruby had shellacked it with. Even so, Emma frowned at her reflection as the title of the very first chapter of her book flashed before her mind.

Seriously Ladies, I Don’t Care How Hot He Is!

*****************************************

Truth be told, Emma Swan’s staff had planned the wedding, not her. Stressing over calla lilies versus roses, satin versus silk, band versus DJ wasn’t really her thing. The only thing she’d gotten personally invested in besides her dress was that damn arbor. She’d seen the rocking chair Killian had done for the Nolan’s with its intricate carvings and beautiful, smooth stain, and for some reason she wanted that for her wedding. Something uniquely her - something real.

Something real - what a joke that was now.

A string quartet played the opening strands of Canon in D, and Emma stepped out onto the satin runner that led from the back of the mansion to the beach below. It felt like the longest walk of her life with all of the guests standing and staring at her - she didn’t even recognize half of them. Cameras clicked all around her, reminding her once again that this was all on display for public consumption.

Emma saw Killian up ahead, beneath the awning, but only through a haze. In a way it felt like an out of body experience. She didn’t really get a good look at his face until she was right in front of him. To her surprise, his smile was wide and bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners - as if he was actually thrilled to be pledging his life to her. She caught a glance at Regina over his shoulder, and the woman tipped her head surreptitiously, her eyes glaring at Emma. The message was clear - at least pretend you want to be here, for God’s sake! Emma bit her lower lip, then looked into Killian’s eyes and forced a smile upon her face. It wasn’t as if gazing into his eyes was a chore - far from it. She’d never seen eyes so blue. She had noticed it that very first day they met, despite her irritation over his loud music. But here beside the sea, his eyes were even more striking.

Like the sea after a storm. Emma bit the inside of her cheek as the line from The Princess Bride came to her suddenly. On its heels came the title of chapter three of her book.

Seriously Ladies, This Life’s No Fairy Tale!

The vows were over before Emma even knew she’d spoken them. Once, Killian even had to squeeze her hands and nod to prompt her. The guests merely chuckled good-naturedly, obviously chalking it up to normal wedding jitters.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant announced. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Kiss the bride! Oh shit, Emma hadn’t even considered this part. They should have discussed it, or . . . practiced maybe? Yet Killian didn’t hesitate, nor did he seem the least bit flustered. He cupped her face in his hands and tenderly bent to press his lips to hers. It was soft, yet deep, his tongue swiping gently against her lips. Emma found herself opening for him and melting into the kiss. Another movie quote flitted through her brain: church tongue. When he pulled away, her eyes stayed closed in bliss for a moment.

Damn, Killian Jones could kiss.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek again as they faced the cheering guests. Now she was thinking of the title of chapter five.

Seriously Ladies, When it Comes to Kissing, Make Sure He’s the One Who Can’t Handle It

*****************************************************

If the wedding was a blur, the reception was even more so. Emma had heard stories of the crazy things people do when they’re suffering from shock. Walking miles on a broken leg, yanking things out of a gaping wound, dashing through fire, and yet not feeling a thing. She could relate, it was how she made it through her wedding day.

Regina was doing facial gymnastics to get her to go through the motions. She hoped she smiled and faked a laugh enough to sell it. Killian certainly did. Honestly, the way he looked at her sometimes was enough to make her swoon like Ruby. Regina must have given him a hell of an acting lesson.

Chapter Two: Seriously Ladies, All Men are Actors

Killian’s most Oscar-worthy performance came during their first dance. She wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction when the first bars of Extreme’s “More Than Words” played. Killian frowned down at her, his hand at her waist tightening slightly.

“Are you okay, love?”

Emma sighed, “It’s nothing, it’s just . . . this was our song.”

Killian’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, love. None of this can be easy for you.”

“It’s seems easy for you,” she muttered.

He chuckled at that and pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear. “Well, I’ve got an incredibly beautiful woman in my arms. What’s so difficult about that?”

A shiver ran down her spine and an embarrassing giggle escaped her lips. She heard cameras clicking, and saw Regina give her a satisfied smile and a nod. Killian leaned back and arched a brow at her before spinning her out. When he pulled her back against his chest, he began to sing.

“More than words is all you have to do to make it real. Then you wouldn’t have to say you love me cause I’d already know.”

His voice was . . . amazing, actually, but he accompanied the words with ridiculous facial expressions and wild spins across the dance floor, and it all made Emma throw her head back with genuine laughter. He ended the entire performance by dipping her, followed by a chaste kiss. The crowd cheered and the cameras clicked. When he righted her, he pressed his forehead to hers and lowered his voice so only she could hear.

“No offense to your ex, but this song is basically a guy asking for sex as proof of love.”

Emma’s eyes widened. She should have been pissed at the observation, but . . . well, Walsh obviously hadn’t kept it in his pants, so . . .

“Seriously Ladies, Sex Doesn’t Equal Love.”

Killian blinked. “Pardon?”

Emma laughed again. Cameras clicked. They probably assumed they were having some tender moment. “Chapter eight. Of my book. That’s chapter eight of my book.”

Killian laughed and lifted his right hand to scratch behind his ear. “I, um, must confess . . . I haven’t read it.”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You are?”

“If you were reading books on how to have a relationship with a man, then this marriage would really be doomed.”

He laughed again, and his eyes did that crinkling thing, and she noticed for the first time that he had dimples. The cameras clicked again. The media loved him already.

Too bad the bride barely knew him.

*****************************************

Emma’s agent had told Killian he needed to act like a man in love, had lectured him on it for about ten minutes, actually. As if he needed it. Truth be told, he was having a hard time reining himself in. The wedding kiss, for example, was probably pushing it. But bloody hell, when he’d seen her walking down the aisle towards him, his heart had almost flown from his chest. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away, with her hair in those soft curls and that dress . . . God, that dress! The way her shapely legs peeked out of the slit as she walked, that plunging neckline that not only hinted at the swell of her breasts but also showed off her creamy skin - it was enough to make a man lose his mind.

Emma hadn’t seemed to be bothered by the kiss though, and had actually kissed him back. Then again, she had to keep up the charade. It would certainly arouse suspicion if she seemed uncomfortable with his lips on hers.

And his tongue tangling with hers. Shit, he probably shouldn’t have gone that far. He couldn’t stop touching her either, finding excuses throughout the reception to press his hand to the small of her back, take her hand, or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He was in heaven.

He was a cad. Because this also had to be one of the worst days of Emma Swan’s life.

Or was it Emma Jones now? They had never discussed that small detail, though he assumed with her career, she would keep Swan. Not that it bothered him either way. Even in a world of his most wonderful, wildest dreams where Emma Swan decided to stay when the year was up, he wouldn’t care what name she chose.

He had made her laugh during their first dance, and he counted that a huge victory. He loved that he could make her smile after all she had been through with her horrible ex. Why the man would cheat on her, much less leave her high and dry on their wedding day was something Killian couldn’t comprehend.

“Killian!”

His back stiffened at the familiar voice. He had seen David at the ceremony, but he’d managed to avoid him so far. Killian’s arm tightened around Emma’s waist as he turned to face his friend. His wife Mary Margaret was at his side, and she was practically beaming.

“Oh, I am so happy for you two!” she gushed. “How in the world did you manage to keep this from us?”

“Yeah,” David agreed, his eyes cutting from Emma to Killian and back again, “how long has this been going on?”

“Oh David,” Mary Margaret admonished with a playful slap to her husband’s chest, “obviously he’s why Emma moved here.”

“Well, it does explain all those appointments to design that wedding arbor,” David laughed.

Killian scratched behind his ear and forced a laugh. “You caught us!”

“So how did you meet?” Mary Margaret, ever the romantic, asked in a sing-song voice.

“Um, well, I DM-ed her on Instagram.”

David narrowed his eyes. “You’re on Instagram?”

“Of course he is, sweetie,” Mary Margaret laughed, as if her husband was way behind the times, “I follow him. Gorgeous pictures of all his work . . . anyways, so Emma, you broke chapter twelve of your book?”

Killian felt like his bow tie was choking him. “Chapter Twelve?”

“You know sweetie,” Emma said, elbowing him a little too sharply, “the chapter warning women against internet dating.”

“Oh . . . that, well,” his face turned red as she shot daggers at him from his eyes.

“What Killian means,” Emma said smoothly, turning to Mary Margaret, “is that he DM-ed me for relationship advice, not trying to flirt with me. A friendship grew from there, and then love.”

“Relationship advice?” David was crossing his arms over his chest now - not a good sign.

“Aye, mate. Being a widower is no picnic you know.”

David’s posture deflated, and he gave Killian a friendly slap on the back. “It’s good to see you happy again.”

Killian put his arm around Emma, pulled her close, and brushed a kiss to her temple. “Never been happier, truly.”

“I didn’t see your family here, Killian,” Mary Margaret said, concern creasing her brow.

Emma jumped in before Killian could even get his thoughts in order. “We’ll be doing a small, private ceremony for them. We just couldn’t risk the media figuring out Killian’s identity.”

Killian blinked as he looked down at her. She smiled at him in an adoring way and squeezed his bicep gently. She was quite the actress - impressive.

“So they don’t even know you got married?” Mary Margaret asked incredulously.

This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. “I didn’t want to ask them to keep such a huge secret,” Killian explained, “but don’t worry, I’ll be calling them soon.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret said on a sigh. She reached out to pat his hand. “I know they will be thrilled after all the pain they’ve watched you go through.”

Mercifully, the DJ announced that the bride and groom would be leaving for their honeymoon. Mary Margaret and David hugged them both and said their goodbyes, then Emma and Killian were whisked outside by Ruby and the wedding planner to a waiting limo.

Once inside, Emma collapsed against the seat, and her face fell. It was obvious now that her smiles, her gentle touches, all of it, had been a facade. She turned away from him as the limo drove away, taking them to Cape Cod. Uncomfortable silence fell between them, and the inches separating them on the bench seat felt like miles.

“Are you okay?” Killian finally ventured.

If she had snapped at him, he would have understood, but instead she looked at him wearily. “I woke up this morning planning to marry my fiance, and now I’m married to someone I barely know instead. How do you think I feel?”

He winced. “Fair enough. I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk.”

She ignored him, slumping further and resting her head against the window. He couldn’t help watching her, his heart aching that he could do nothing to ease her pain.

He was surprised when she spoke again, though she didn’t look at him. “I didn’t know you were married before.”

“I’m sorry, Swan, I should have mentioned that.”

“No,” she said, turning her gaze on him once again, “it isn’t that. I’m just . . . I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

They fell silent once again, and the stress of the day started to get to Killian. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but finally lost the battle and succumbed to sleep. It felt like only moments later when the limo driver tapped on the window. Killian’s eyes blinked open, and he was surprised to find Emma’s head against his shoulder. He shook her gently to wake her.

“We’re here, love.”

“Oh,” Emma said, voice still thick with sleep as she sat up, blinking. When she met his gaze, a blush stained her cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, I feel asleep too.”

She nodded, weary, and climbed out of the limo. The resort was a throwback to the heydey of Cape Cod with quaint shutters and bright red awnings. The staff fussed over them, which wasn’t surprising since they were both still dressed like figures on the top of a wedding cake. The bellboy got their bags and led them to the honeymoon suite. There was a small sitting room that led out to a balcony with an ocean view. Off the sitting room was a large master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite bath. Housekeeping had strewn rose petals across the bed, and a bottle of champagne on ice sat on the nightstand.

“Enjoy,” the bellboy said with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he slipped out the door.

The silence after he left was palpable. Emma shivered as she stared through the open door into the bedroom, but then she quickly squared her shoulders and spun on him.

“Look, I hope you didn’t get any ideas because we’re technically married.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he lifted both hands in defense. “I would never in a million years expect anything of the sort from you, Emma. Clearly, I’ll be taking the couch.”

Emma cocked her head at him, her eyes narrow slits. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman?’

He couldn’t help winking at her. “Of course. I’m always a gentleman.”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.”

It was late, and it had been a long and emotional day, so Killian wasn’t surprised when Emma grumbled that she was going to bed, shut the bedroom door behind her rather forcefully, and snapped at him not to bother her. He let out a long sigh as he toed off his shoes and started to remove his tie. He thought about calling Liam, but he just wasn’t emotionally ready for that conversation. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for he and Emma to get the details of their story straight before that happened.

There was a TV in front of the couch, and he flicked it on as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. He found blankets and a pillow on the top shelf of a closet and settled down with remote in hand. He flipped through the channels, but there wasn’t anything that captured his interest, so he shut it off and turned off the light. He lay there, his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, but sleep was elusive.

Then a sound caught his ear. Killian tilted his head and listened closely. It was Emma, and she was crying.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs modern au #marriage of convenience #slow burn #some angst #humor

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wickedbabesblog · 6 years ago

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Release Blast for Advice From A Jilted Bride (The Baileys #2) by Piper Rayne

Release Blast for Advice From A Jilted Bride (The Baileys #2) by Piper Rayne Amazon US ~ https://amzn.to/2BYgB0l Amazon UK ~ https://amzn.to/2ApRvYg Amazon CA ~ https://amzn.to/2ApRxPS Amazon AU ~ https://amzn.to/2CN9UQl

What’s a girl to do after being ditched at the altar by text message? That’s right. Text. Message.

How does she pick up the pieces and move on? I’m no Dear Abby but here’s a little free advice…

Advice #1 – First, purge your apartment of all things him—by tossing his belongings off the balcony.

Advice #2 – Do not, I repeat do not, throw anything out into the hallway because you’ll…

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#Advice From A Jilted Bride #Advice From A Jilted Bride (The Baileys 2)#review #The Baileys Series

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scotianostra · 6 years ago

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On April 14th 1578 James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell , Earl of Orkney and third husband of Mary Queen of Scots died, aged 44, tied to a post in a dungeon at Dragsholm Castle, Denmark.

Quite a long post this one so will split it into two halves as I have a few other things to sort out.

James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell was a ladies’ man, powerfully attractive to women; he had a string of mistresses, and was noted as an able and swash-buckling soldier. He was well-educated at Spynie under his promiscuous kinsman, Patrick Hepburn, Bishop of Moray, but later attended university in Paris, where he became fluent in French. He studied Latin and Greek, but his principal interests were mathematics, military strategy and chivalry. Unlike his father, he was a Reformer, perhaps because Knox’s family had been Hepburn dependents.

As I said in the post about him on Friday, even though he was a protestant, he supported the catholic regent Mary de Guise, Mother of the absent Mary Queen of Scots, this made him enemies, particularly after he hijacked a delivery of £3,000 sent to John Knox and his Lords of the congregation as aid by the English. To avoid their wrath To avoid the Lords of the Congregation, he nowhe travelled between Scotland and France and, as Lord High Admiral, came to Calais to transport Mary’s baggage back to Scotland but ti would be later that he became involved with the Queen.

Hepburn was no stranger to making in enemies and in 1560 he visited Copenhagen, and met Anna Trond Rustung, the daughter of the Admiral of the Danish Navy. The two became engaged and left for Scotland, together with the huge dowry presented by her father. Bothwell abandoned his bride to be, but not the dowry, while en route home in Holland, this would later be his undoing.

After Mary's return from France in 1561, she selected a number of Protestant to be her principal advisers. Bothwell was amongst them and became a member of the Privy Council. In 1562, Bothwell was accused of plotting to kidnap Mary by an old enemy of his, James Hamilton, The Earl of Arran. Bothwell spent some time imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle before escaping, or being released, depending on the historian and travelling overland for France, a journey that led to his being imprisoned by the English for a year en route., for his earlier demeanour. Mary is said to have interceded on his behalf and he eventually made it to the continent.

Mary recalled Bothwell from France to Scotland in 1565, to assist her suppress a revolt by her half brother, the Earl of Moray. By this time she was married to Darnley, and James, on the Querens advice married the sister of the earl of Huntly Jean Gordon although they were never happy together. In May 1566, while on a visit to Haddington, he had a liaison with his wife's serving maid, Mary was not immune to his charms and a supporter of the Queen, John Maxwell later wrote,

".... He was high in his own conceit, proud, vicious and vainglorious above measure, who would attempt anything out of ambition. His reckless daring appealed to her romantic sentiments, while his strong character and resolute purpose contrasted forcibly with the weakness of her husband Darnley, and his inability to control or protect her."

By this time Rizzio had been murdered and Mary's marriage to Darnley was on the rocks, it is thought that just after the birth of King James in June 1566 that an affair started between Mary and Hepburn, although there is no definitive proof of this.

Darnley was murdered at Kirk O Field in March 1567 and Darnley's family pointed the finger at Bothwell, which brings us up to the point of his trial that I sort of covered on Friday. He was acquitted which left the way clear for him to propose to Mary, she refused him, but history is said to tell us that he later kidnapped the Queen taking her to Dunbar Castle, where he raped her. This is a murky dirty period and how I wish I could have a portal to find out what exactly happened during the months between and including Darnley's murder, and the apparent rape, for we are to believe that Mary then agreed to be his wife, the minor detail that Bothwell was still married was tidied up on 3 May 1567 when he was divorced by Jean Gordon on grounds of adultery.

Bothwell and Mary hastily married on 15 May 1567, then fled the popular revulsion this provoked to Dunbar Castle, this was the beginning of the end for Mary, she was confronted by dissident Scottish nobles and their army at the "Battle" of Carberry Hill on 15 June 1567, Mary traded that Bothwell would be allowed to go free for her own freedom, she was taken to Loch Leven Castle and he was meant to garner support for her, but instead or perhaps he could find none, he fled to Orkney where he was denied the protection he sought by Gilbert Balfour, he then travelled to Norway where his past would catch up with him and was imprisoned pending his repayment of the dowry of Anna Trond Rustung who he had jilted in Holland seven years earlier.

#Scotland #Scottish #History

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reesourire · 6 years ago

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Cover Reveals: Advice from A Jilted Bride & Birth of A Baby Daddy by Piper Rayne

#CoverReveals: Advice from A Jilted Bride & Birth of A Baby Daddy by @PiperRayneRocks #ComingSoon! #TheBaileys #series @InkSlingerPR

What’s a girl to do after being ditched at the altar by text message? That’s right. Text. Message.

How does she pick up the pieces and move on? I’m no Dear Abby but here’s a little free advice…

Advice #1 – First, purge your apartment of all things him—by tossing his belongings off the balcony.

Advice #2 – Do not, I repeat do not, throw anything out into the hallway because you’ll injure…

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#Coming Soon #Piper Rayne #romantic comedy #series #The Baileys

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stacyalesi · 3 years ago

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ADVICE FROM A JILTED BRIDE by Piper Rayne

New #bookreview: ADVICE FROM A JILTED BRIDE by Piper Rayne, #TheBaileys - book 2. Loved it! @PiperRayneRocks #piperrayne #sneakingaroundwith34 #AdultRomance #RomanticComedy #romcom #Enemiestolovers #fakedating #romance #Alaska #smalltownromance

CLICK TO PURCHASE The Baileys, Book 2 From the publisher: What’s a girl to do after being ditched at the altar by text message? That’s right. Text. Message. How does she pick up the pieces and move on? I’m no Dear Abby but here’s a little free advice…Advice #1 – First, purge your apartment of all things him—by tossing his belongings off the balcony.Advice #2 – Do not, I repeat do not, throw…

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#Contemporary #romcom

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Starting Over Chapter 15 ~The Retribution~

Jamie dragged a hand through his hair and stared viciously at Inspector Campbell. "I told ye already ... Frank ...I mean Dr Randall was attacking Claire when I arrived at her house and ..."

The gum-chewing Inspector stopped him midsentence. "So ye admit to assaulting Dr Randall with intent to cause bodily harm?"

"I stopped him from hurting her!"

"By throwing him across the room?"

"Where the bloody hell are we? In the courtroom or what?" an officious voice interrupted. "My client has the right not to answer any more of yer questions!"

Campbell and Jamie glanced towards the door and watched a small middle-aged man in an over-sized grey suit march into the interrogation room, followed by a bumbling young police officer trying to stop him. Ned Gowan, his family and personal lawyer, stopped by his side and peered down at him through his spectacle. "Ye alright, son?"

Jamie grinned and nodded, happy to see a familiar face. He hadn't expected him to come this soon. When he'd called earlier, he was informed by Ned's secretary that he was unavailable. Nevertheless, Jamie had filled her in with what had occurred to save time.

"Mr Gowan, ye cannot simply barge in here during an interrogation," Campbell fumed. "Ye ken the rules."

Ned smiled at the Inspector. "Aye, that is true, but my client requested my presence. So, under my advice, Mr Fraser here will not answer any more of yer questions. So as far as I'm concerned, this interrogation is over. What are the charges?"

"No formal charges have been made yet," Campbell grumbled. "But Mr Fraser has violated a restraining order by visiting Dr Randall's fiancée."

"Ex-fiancée," Jamie butted in. "She left Dr Randall at the altar. Remember?"

Ned gave Jamie a stern look before proceeding. "Inspector Campbell, if you've checked the terms of the restraining order, you will come to the same conclusion as me, that no violation has been made. Now if you don't mind, I would like to speak to my client. Alone."

Begrudgingly, Cambell stood up, his chair scraping the floor noisily. "Fine. But we will still retain Mr Fraser for twenty-four hours until ..."

"We will see about that," Ned said firmly, placing his briefcase on the table and opening it to retrieve some papers and an Ipad. Once they were alone, he took the vacated seat and smiled. "Weel, Jamie lad, what trouble are we in today?"

Jamie leaned forward. "I need to get out of here as soon as possible. Claire could be in serious trouble. She was attacked by Frank, and that man cannae be trusted. He is unscrupulous, and he is playing his good-doctor-card to get away with everything. He brazenly lied to the police in front of me and made me look like the bad guy. "

"Aah, aye, the runaway bride. I've been briefed by my secretary on the way here. Yer friend Joe called Willie, and I've been informed by yer brother that Miss Beauchamp is safe and that Miss Duncan is with her." He paused for a few seconds, allowing Jamie to absorb his words. "First things first, though. There is something foul and rank about that restraining order filed against ye." He sifted through the papers and pulled one out. "There are no police reports, nor any official complaints recorded leading to the application —no prior evidence of misconduct on yer part. Looks like Mr Randall pulled a few strings here and there." His brows furrowed deeper. "How long have ye known Dr Randall?"

Jamie told him of his first encounter with the doctor at uncle Lamb's apartment and how he and Quentin received the restraining order the day after. He also spoke of everything that transpired during the meeting as well as pointing out it was Quentin's first visitation from Frank.

"Very strange indeed," Ned murmured more to himself. "From what I see, the restraining order was filed the day before ye met Dr Randall and Mr Beauchamp. Now I would understand why Mr Beauchamp would receive one but for Dr Randall to apply for one against ye and before meeting ye at that, is very peculiar. Ye haven't had any form of communication with him either via phone or any other form of an electronic device prior to meeting him?"

"No, not at all."

Ned scribbled some notes. "And what is Miss Beauchamp to ye?"

"A friend."

The older man stopped what he was doing and arched an eyebrow at him. "A friend? Is that right?"

Jamie beat down the urge to curse. The older man was way too perceptive. "A very special friend."

"Is there anything else I ought to know about Ms Beauchamp?"

"Ummm, she's a doctor ...and Frank has been making life difficult for her since she ran away from her own wedding."

"Aye, aye, I ken that. The jilted groom and the runaway bride, so on and so forth." Ned waved a hand. "What I meant is, anything about her that might be detrimental to yer case."

"Ned! Claire is the victim here, not me!" he pointed out irritatedly.

"Fine, fine, just making sure I have everything covered," he said, raising both hands in defence. "I should be able to get ye out in an hour. But I'm quite sure there will be conditions set already as the police will be anticipating yer release. Ye cannot leave Scotland until this is all resolved and make sure ye are accessible via phone anytime. Any further conditions, I will let ye know."

Jamie relaxed a bit. "Thank ye."

"Ye're welcome."

Observing the older man gather his things, Ned hardly resembled a lawyer at all. In fact, if anything, he looked like a car salesman or a bank clerk despite him being the best in his profession around Edinburgh. Maybe it had something to do with his clothes not fitting him properly or his carriage or perhaps, he looked too fatherly. For as long as Jamie could remember, Ned had always been his family's lawyer, confidant and adviser. And for someone who frequented their dinner table, Jamie had never seen him out of his work suit. "Ned?"

"Aye, son?"

"Why didn't ye marry? I ken it's a personal question, but I've often wondered."

Ned stopped, pondered for a bit and then sighed. "There used to be a lass, but that was a long time ago."

Curiosity got the better of him. "What happened?"

He smiled wistfully. "What happened? Weel, I let the greatest love of my life go, that's what happened. I thought my career would be enough." He took off his specs and started to polish it with a handkerchief. "I realised too late, my achievement meant nought when I have naebody to share it with." He paused and then cleared his throat. "Ye see Jamie, the worse decision ye can make in life are the ones ye make out of too much logic and too little heart."

"That's the thing isn't it, ye dinna ken until it's too late," Jamie said thoughtfully.

"Aye, it's always easier to take the familiar route, ye ken - without the risks and surprises slinking around the corner." Ned grabbed his briefcase. "But just in case ye're seeking for some sort of answer, remember this - great love is, for the most part, an inconvenient sort. It's messy, and there's no guarantee. It'd take a massive leap of faith and courage to go down that road. No one could really predict what would be in store for ye - it could be the best thing ye will ever do in your life, or it could be yer biggest downfall. I, for one, will never know, and that's my biggest regret. So choose wisely, lad."

And then Ned left.

A mental image of his bachelor pad made Jamie suddenly feel cold. Something was nudging him. A necessity he'd never felt before to put down roots, without the fear of his decadent past catching up on him and telling him he wasn't made for this. Why now? Why was he suddenly anxious to shed this final piece of his past so he could start creating something new? Did seeing Claire in danger earlier propagated the thought?

Claire's smile played and teased in his head, but he laughed it off with a shrug. No, a lasting commitment wasn't in his gene. It was sufficient for now that he was doing something to get his life back on track and concentrating on getting the job at the network. An odd lump suddenly formed in his throat as he continued to think of Claire, how she'd felt in his arms and how natural it felt to start the day with her. And it was useless to pretend he made the conditions for the status of their relationship for no other reason than to be with her longer. To be there for her in case she needed him. To what end, though, he didn't know yet. But with the announcement at the network fast approaching, the idea of letting her go threatened his sanity. Would she take the risk of coming to London with him? But what risk was he taking in return?

..........

"Ach, there ye are!"

Claire looked up just as she was haphazardly signing her hospital discharge forms. "Oh, Geillis, thank God." She scribbled her signature on the last of the papers and handed the pen back to the head nurse. Shifting her attention to her friend, she noticed the worried look. "I'm fine. It's just a bit of swelling," she reassured her, a hand automatically touching the sore bump at the back of her head.

"She has a concussion," the nurse interfered with a humph, clearly not convinced about her early release.

"A mild concussion," Claire corrected firmly.

"Mild or no', concussions are not something to be trifled with, Dr Beauchamp and ye should know better." The nurse gathered all the papers and looked at her sternly. "Plenty of rest and don't do anything too exciting."

Ignoring the exchange, Geillis zeroed-in to the point. "What the hell happened, Claire? Joe was very vague over the phone and didn't get into details."

Claire waited for the nurse to leave and recounted the whole story, sparing nothing. After she'd regained consciousness earlier, she'd immediately called Joe so he could notify Jamie's family of the situation and her uncle. Joe had wanted to see her in the hospital, but Claire had insisted Jamie was in much bigger trouble. Conceding, he'd sent Geillis to her in his place instead.

"That wanker has gone too far," Geillis seethed after hearing what happened. "Ye can't let him get away with this, Claire."

"No, definitely not! I need to go to the police as soon as possible to clear things up for Jamie. Did Joe tell you to bring me some clothes and shoes? They brought me in, in my bathrobe."

"Oh, yes, of course. Here." Geillis handed her the paper bag. "I'll take ye to the station once ye're ready. Last I heard, Jamie was taken in for questioning but hasn't been formally charged, and Joe said, Jamie's lawyer is doing everything to get him out of there."

Claire let out a sigh of relief and then stopped. "How about Frank? Have you heard anything about him?"

"No," Geillis replied. "I'd been half expecting him to be lurking outside the ward. Good thing he wasn't. I would have ended throttling his sorry neck and sharing the jail cell with Jamie."

Despite being worried, Claire managed a smile, glad to have Geillis on her side. Her friend's bark could be as bad as her bite if anyone got on the wrong side of her. "If you throttle him, I will look the other way," she joked.

Geillis laughed before her expression turned pensive. "By the way, has anyone from the police taken your statement?"

"No. Strange, isn't it? Frank probably made himself look like the victim and me a mere casualty." Her hands began to shake as she changed into her clothes. Deep down inside, she was deliriously mad. It was one thing Frank being manipulative and controlling but to try and force himself on her and get Jamie arrested was wicked and conniving. And that was putting it very mildly.

How on earth had Frank kept that side of him hidden from the rest of the world? It wasn't only her he'd fooled but also friends, colleagues and the community who'd known and admired him for years. Even though it wasn't in her nature to be vengeful and vindictive, she knew it was time to step things up a bit, especially when Frank's actions were starting to affect the people in her life.

Claire was just putting on her shoes when there was a knock on the door. Geillis immediately got up and opened it. "Yes?"

"Good evening, sorry for intruding. May we please speak to Miss Beauchamp?"

Geillis pulled the door a little wider and stepped aside.

"And you are?" Claire asked, assessing the two men dressed in jeans and plain t-shirts. Although one of them looked familiar, they didn't look like they were from the police nor member of the medical staff.

The two men shuffled apprehensively on their feet, eyeing each other as if prodding who should speak first.

Geillis rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "Oh for crying out loud, the suspense is killing me! Speak up, lads!"

The taller of the men with a ponytail spoke up first. "Eh, my name is Rupert, Rupert MacKenzie. And this is my colleague, Angus Mhor," he began. "We are freelance investigative reporters, and we have been following ye ever since ye made headlines as a runaway bride..."

"And now what?" Geillis interrupted angrily. "Ye want a freaking interview? Ye think this is some circus show to entertain the mass?"

Angus looked nervously out in the hallway and licked his lips. "Oh, no nothing like that at all. We have something that will be of interest to ye."

Claire couldn't get a word edgeways as Geillis took over again. "Ah, I see. Ye have some uncompromising photos of Claire, and now ye want to bribe her, is that it? Ye cheeky gits! Get out of here, ye morons before I castrate the both of ye!"

This time Rupert stepped forward and put up his hands "Please listen to us. We are not here to bribe ye nor to ask for an interview."

"Why are you here, then?" Claire gave Geillis a warning look and nodded to the reporters to continue.

Rupert gave her a grateful smile before speaking. "Earlier, when we saw Dr Randall parking his car into yer driveway, we snuck up to yer window to take some photos. And then when we realised that he was hurting ye, I told my pal here, Angus to call the police."

Angus nodded. "Aye, I was the one who called the police. They werenae far and were there in a matter of minutes."

"And we have some incriminating photos here of Dr Randall that will prove Mr James Fraser's innocence of the whole incident," Rupert added.

"Wot?" Claire's jaw dropped, and her body shook. "You mean to tell me you were outside the whole time I was struggling? I was screaming my lungs out, and I was scared out of my wits. Why in God's green earth, didn't you come in to help me?"

Angus cleared his throat. "We saw Mr Fraser arriving and decided to continue taking photos. We knew the police were on their way. Ye see, Miss Beauchamp, my sister is a victim of Dr Randall's bullying too, and like ye, she no longer works here at the hospital. I've been issued a restraining order in the past when she threatened Dr Randall to tell her story to the news. Somehow he found out I'm a reporter, I dinna ken how. But he warned her, if she did that, he would make sure she never work again in any hospital in Edinburgh. I was determined to take as many photos so we could have enough evidence to show the world what Dr Randall is really like. I am truly sorry ye ended up hurt. But the pieces of evidence we have will mean justice for ye too."

She let out a huge breath she was holding trying to assimilate Angus' words into her brains. Frank hurting other people too? How could she have missed it?

"Sassenach!"

"Claire, thank God!"

She glanced up and saw Jamie and Joe at the door. "Joe! Jamie, you're out!"

Ignoring the reporters and not caring who was watching, Jamie strode towards her and pulled her against him. "Thank Christ, ye're alright," he whispered, kissing her temple. "How are ye? Are ye hurt?"

"I'm fine, just a slight bump," she whispered against his chest.

"Erm, Jamie, there are reporters in the room," Geillis warned, patting him on the shoulder.

"Ach, we're not taking photos," Rupert reassured them.

"Nope, nae photos," Angus said, nodding his head.

Joe looked at the reporters warily. "You better not be; otherwise, you'll both regret the day you were born."

Everyone started to talk at once, but Jamie was oblivious to his surrounding as he continued to stroke her hair. His warm lips were pressed against her forehead while he whispered soothing Gaelic endearments. She wanted to melt into his embrace and forget the ugliness, but the unpleasant events of the night unfurled and caused a new wave of anger surging through her. Not even Jamie's familiar warmth can tamp the fury that was mounting by the second. After sustaining a concussion, she knew she ought to calm herself down, but the thought of Frank causing pain and trouble to innocent people made her sick to the core and her blood boil.

As if her ill thoughts had conjured Frank, he walked in as casually as a doctor on his routine rounds, causing everyone to still in stupefaction. "What the hell is going on here?" his voice boomed.

And that's when Claire saw red. She didn't know if it was adrenaline or her own physical strength, but somehow she managed to twist away from Jamie's hold and grab a flower vase from a table.

"Sassenach, no!"

Hands scrambled to get hold of her, and Jamie's arms went around her waist, her feet almost dangling off the floor. She stopped hearing their plea to calm down, everything becoming a blur, her focus centred solely on Frank's face that was now looking back at her in horror. Years of sadness, frustration, humiliation and resentment she'd endured turned into a ball of rage screaming to be unleashed. She twisted once more from Jamie's grasp and tested the weight of the vase in her hand. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" she hollered, tears streaming down her face.

She flung the vase at Frank's head. He tried to duck to avoid the impact, but it hit him directly on the middle of the face. He collapsed on the floor with a bloodied nose and his body in a heap, no one from the room coming to his aid.

"Sassenach, what have ye done?" Jamie's voice sounded like it came from afar.

"What I should have done ages ago," she replied, before numbly walking over Frank and leaving the room.

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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allthingsdarkanddirty · 6 years ago

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#piper rayne #inkslingerpr #advice from a jilted bride #birth of a baby daddy #cover reveal #the baileys

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delightedreader · 5 years ago

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Strapped to a lease on an apartment she can’t afford on her own, a wedding that never happened and a family who cares, but needs to leave you alone, Brooklyn does what any healthy jilted bride would do: throw his shit out the window or door. http://delightedreader.com/review-advice-from-a-jilted-bride-by-piper-rayne/

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worryinglyinnocent · 8 years ago

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A Window of Opportunity – A Monthly Rumbelling Fic

Summary: One spring morning, Father Macavoy helps Belle French to stop her best friend making the worst mistake of her life, and the two grow a little closer.

A macelle fic written for the Monthly Rumbelling prompt: “Runaway bride”

Rated: G

This is not C$ friendly. At all. You have been warned.

=====

A Window of Opportunity

When Belle entered the large and opulently decorated church, the last thing that she expected was the priest racing up the aisle after her as she was looking for her seat and bundling her off into the vestry. She had been expecting to sit down, watch her friend get married, and then go and drown her sorrows in champagne at the wedding reception. Belle would admit that drowning one's sorrows was not usually what one was expected to do at wedding receptions, but Belle had long since viewed the impending nuptials as less of a wedding and more of a funeral. Emma's choice of life partner had been the cause of more than one heated argument between her and Belle, and was the reason why Belle was not, as had always been expected, Emma's maid of honour. It was only comparatively recently that she had even been re-invited to the wedding.

Belle, to put it bluntly, could not stand Emma's fiancé Killian, and was of the distinct impression that marrying him was the worst thing that her friend could do. She had already noticed the way that Emma had changed since she had been with the man, and she was certain that marriage would be the final nail in the coffin of her once vibrant personality.

“Father, what’s going on?” Belle asked. “What’s happening?”

“Shh, let’s not cause a panic.”

Belle had to raise her eyebrows at that. Of all the people involved in this wedding who were likely to panic, she would have put Father Macavoy down at the top of the list. He was a good man, who had listened to her laments about the forthcoming marriage with a kind and sympathetic ear, offering guidance as best he could in the middle of a very delicate situation. He pushed Belle into the vestry and closed the door firmly behind them. Belle was surprised to see Emma pacing up and down the small room in her wedding dress. Belle had not seen Emma’s wedding dress; after the final argument that had resulted in her being removed from her maid of honour duties she had been barred from such discussions. She was sure that on anyone else, the dress would have looked lovely, but it really did not sit right on Emma. She looked uncomfortable in it, and it really wasn’t her style. If anyone would be inclined for a vintage-inspired Grace Kelly knock-off, then it was Belle herself, but even she would be dubious about this particular frock.

“Oh Belle, thank God you’re here.” Emma saw her friend and stopped her pacing.

“Emma, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t go through with this.”

Belle sighed. Emma had put her on the spot here, because what was she supposed to say? What was it that Emma wanted to hear? Should she express her gratitude that she’d finally come to her senses and listened to what Belle had been saying all along, or should she grit her teeth and swallow her opinions and tell her friend that it was going to be all right and that pre-wedding jitters were perfectly natural? And what about Father Macavoy, what would he say to her advice knowing as he did her deepest, darkest thoughts about Emma and Killian’s relationship and being sworn to the secrecy of the confessional? She decided that honesty was the best policy.

“Emma, I’ve already made my opinion of this wedding clear,” she began. “If you’re looking for someone to reassure you and nudge you up towards the altar, then you’ve come to the wrong person.”

Emma nodded. “I know. I don’t want a nudge towards the altar. I just need a friend to get me out of here.” She plucked at the lacy cuffs of her dress. “Look at this thing. It’s hardly me, is it?”

Belle shook her head. “I had to double take when I first saw you.”

“It’s Killian’s mother’s,” Emma went on, and she resumed her pacing. “She had it altered for me. Didn’t even consult me. She was saying something about not having a daughter to pass it on to, and I would be her daughter soon, and I should wear it as a symbol of becoming part of their family. And before I could even get the chance to say well actually, it’s my wedding and I’d like to have a say in my own wedding dress, Killian was off on one about how generous his mother had been and all the trouble she’d been to, and how I ought to be grateful because it wasn’t like I had a family of my own to do these kinds of things for me.”

“Emma, that’s awful,” Belle said plainly.

“I don’t want to live like this anymore.” Emma sighed. “I chose the worst possible time to realise that.”

“That might have been my fault,” Father Macavoy said. “When she arrived I remarked on how much she looked like Grace Kelly.”

“Whose life pretty much ended when she got married,” Emma added. “And that’s when I realised that I did not want that to happen to me.”

Belle smiled. “Well, at least you came to your senses in the nick of time.”

“If I may add my own opinion,” Father Macavoy began timidly. Belle and Emma looked towards him. “I would just say that God is forgiving, and He wouldn’t think any the less of you for not honouring the commitment that you made to Mr Jones when you agreed to marry him. He would far rather that you went into any marriage knowing your true feelings, rather than making that vow with any degree of unsureness that might cause it to be broken down the line. Best to make that break now, before you make a promise in His eyes.”

“So you think I should run?” Emma said.

Father Macavoy nodded. “I would say that’s in your best interest.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Belle took charge. “Come on, let’s get you out of this circus. Father, is there any other way out of the vestry?”

“Only through the window.” Father Macavoy indicated the large stained-glass pane that stood half-open, letting in the light spring breeze. Emma and Belle looked at each other, and Emma smiled for the first time since Belle had entered the room. She handed Emma her car keys and the other woman hitched up her full skirts and climbed onto the dresser, wriggling through the window and landing in the flowerbeds outside. She gave Belle a little wave.

“Remember that the reception’s been prepaid!” she said, and rushed down the churchyard to where Belle’s car was parked, much to the alarm of the last few guests who were arriving.

Once she was safely away, Belle turned back to the priest.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Thank you, Miss French. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to convince her on my own. Having met the couple as often as I have in the run up to today, I’ve never been happier to have a bride run out on me.”

“So what do we do now?” Belle asked. “There’s a church full of people and a jilted fiancé who doesn’t know that he’s been jilted yet. Someone’s going to have to tell them.”

“Leave that to me.” Father Macavoy left the vestry, and Belle watched through the crack between the door and the frame.

“Thank you all for coming,” the priest began. “However, there will be no marriage taking place here today.”

“What?” Killian exclaimed. “Where’s Emma?”

“Not here,” Father Macavoy said. “Nor is she coming. Now, I appreciate the inconvenience that’s been caused to you all, but as I said, there will be no wedding here today. I have, however, been asked to remind you that the reception has already been paid for and you’re all welcome to go and enjoy yourselves there. Thank you.”

He made to go back into the vestry but Killian grabbed his arm.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked.

“Not at all, Mr Jones, and I would remind you before you do anything too rash that you are in a house of God.”

Killian was looking positively murderous, but he let go of Father Macavoy’s arm, allowing the priest to escape into the vestry.

“Well, that could have gone a lot worse,” he remarked to Belle. “I believe we deserve a cup of tea after that, Miss French, don’t you?”

He went over to the electric kettle and Belle nodded.

“Yes, Father. But you can call me Belle.”

“Ok, Belle.” There was a long pause, and he was blushing a little as he continued. “You can call me Joseph.”

“Father, really…”

“Really.” Joseph made two mugs of tea and passed one to Belle. “I’m very glad you came when you did. I don’t think that I could have gone through with the ceremony in all good faith, knowing what I do of those two.”

Belle nodded. There would be a hell of a lot of fallout from this. It was still far from over, but for now, they were safe in the vestry and Emma was safely away from the scene. Listening to the baffled congregation filing out of the church, Belle sipped her tea and looked at her partner in crime with a smile. She’d never seen him in full white and purple vestments before; during his services he tended to dispense with the ceremony and stick to his usual dark suit. She preferred the suit, the vestments seemed to drown him a bit. It was a shame when she finished her tea, as it meant that she’d have to leave his quiet company and go and deal with the consequences of Emma’s unexpected flit.

“Thank you for the tea, Joseph.”

“You’re welcome, Belle.”

It really was a shame that he was a priest. Belle thought, as she got to her feet and went over to him. The hug that she gave him was entirely unexpected. She hadn’t meant to do it. She just found herself throwing her arms around him.

“Thank you so much. For everything.”

“All I did was make the announcement and offer a window to escape out of,” Joseph said, bashful.

“No, before then. For all these weeks. Thank you for listening.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Belle nodded. “Yes, I guess so. But, you know. Maybe sometimes we could talk without the confessional wall between us?”

Joseph smiled. “I’d like that very much, Belle.”

She paused. “I’ve just had a thought. Now that Emma’s taken my car, I have no way to get to the reception to deal with things there.”

“Would you like a lift?” Joseph asked. There was a tone of hope in his voice. Belle nodded.

“That would be wonderful, thank you. I’ll… let you get changed.”

She pecked his cheek in gratitude and maybe promise, and left the vestry into the empty church. When she looked back over her shoulder, Joseph was still standing exactly where she’d left him, his fingertips touching his cheek where her lips had been. Belle smiled. Yes. For everything that had happened, it was going to be a good day.

#A Monthly Rumbelling #macelle #anyelle #Joseph Macavoy #Belle French #anyelle fic #Fic: A Window of Opportunity

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