Unfortunately, most of them were determined to see her in the role of jilted bride-to-be and were treating her as if she’d suddenly turned into eggshell porcelain.
Wondering just how long it would be before life returned to normal, she sighed again and was startled to feel the warm weight of a decidedly masculine arm encompass her shoulders.
‘We don’t have to stay,’ Joe murmured, his voice a deep rumble close to her ear that sent a sharp shiver of awareness right through her.
For a moment Vicky was lost in the sensation of quiet strength and concern, then the irony of the situation washed over her. This was Dr Joseph Faraday standing with his arm around her, the most reclusive man she’d ever met. Over the six months or so since she’d started work at Denison Memorial she didn’t think he’d glanced in her direction more than half a dozen times, even when they’d been on the ward together, and as for speaking…Even when she’d gone out of her way to help him in the aftermath of his injury it had been rather like dealing with a grumpy hedgehog.
‘We don’t have to?’ Had she heard right?
‘The invitation to the reception was informal,’ he reminded her. ‘If you’d prefer, we could have a meal somewhere other than Edenthwaite.’
For a moment Vicky was tempted, so very tempted. She’d been waiting for months for the man to notice her…really notice her. She’d never expected that the distance Joe maintained between himself and the rest of the world would be breached by her own apparent misfortune. And the informality of today’s celebrations was deliberate so that friends and fellow members of staff would be able to slot in their attendance around shift times.
‘I can’t,’ she murmured, hoping her frustration wasn’t too evident. She’d been trying to find a way through the barbed wire of Joe’s defences for so long and now she was going to have to turn him down. Or was she?
‘It was just a suggestion,’ he began, starting to withdraw, but she turned impetuously towards him, catching hold of his suit sleeve to stop him turning away.
‘Joe, don’t you see? I have to go, otherwise the gossips will have even more to talk about. But I don’t have to stay long.’
She had that prickly feeling that she was being watched. Past his broad shoulder she caught sight of several interested faces turned in their direction and wanted to groan. It wasn’t her imagination. Everyone seemed to be watching her every move. It felt almost as if she were living in a goldfish bowl.
‘Just long enough to show your face?’ he asked quietly, his expression somewhere between wary and understanding.
She nodded.
‘And then you can escape with a clear conscience?’
She nodded again and was gifted with a glimpse of a surprisingly mischievous smile.
‘In that case, let’s hope it’s a very short reception line,’ he muttered with a quick glower at two of the more inquisitive ladies sitting in front of them.
Vicky knew that their hushed conversation wouldn’t have carried to the pair—she and Joe were far too aware of the perils of unwary conversations to risk it. However, she had noticed that the pair seemed to have spent almost more time looking back at her and her companion than they had at Frankie and Nick.
Hopefully, they hadn’t been watching when he’d put his comforting arm around her shoulders. That was an unexpectedly sweet memory which she didn’t want tainted by any gossip.
‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ the registrar declared, the words breaking through her scrambled thoughts. Even though she knew everything had changed for the best, she’d been dreading this moment and found herself staring with an awful sort of fascination as Nick turned to Frankie and took her in his arms.
So eager, she thought with a strange little ache around her heart. He obviously didn’t need anyone to tell him that he could now kiss his new bride, and with such passion, too. When it had been her, he’d barely done more than brush her lips with his.
What would it be like to be kissed like that? To have a man pour his heart and soul into—?
‘Vicky?’ The deep voice at her elbow was accompanied by a gentle hand at her cheek, turning her to face him. His hazel eyes were dark with sympathy. ‘You don’t have to watch,’ he said softly. ‘No one would have blamed you if you hadn’t come at all. You could have made certain you were on duty instead.’
His gentle concern was like a balm to her spirits, reminding her that he didn’t know the real reason why she’d been willing to release Nick from his promise. Very few people did. Even Nick didn’t know the full story. To ease his conscience she’d had to tell him that she was falling in love with someone else, but had deliberately withheld the name of the man. That was something only she knew.
‘No, I couldn’t have stayed away,’ she said softly as bride and groom walked past them on their way out, closely followed by two ecstatic bridesmaids. ‘If I hadn’t come, it might have cast a shadow over their day, with people wondering where I was and if I was nursing a broken heart.’
‘So here you are with all flags flying, daring the gossips to do their worst.’
‘Not quite,’ she admitted with a shudder as they waited their turn to leave, grateful for the happy buzz of conversation that left them free to talk more easily. ‘It was bad enough when everyone was cooing over our engagement and wanting updates on the wedding preparations. To be honest, I’m dreading the reception.’
‘Not any more. Remember? We’re only staying long enough to say our congratulations and then we’re out of there.’
He took her hand and looped it over his arm in an almost courtly way as he ushered her out of the door. The sudden lift that the gesture gave to her spirits was something she hadn’t expected. It was almost as if he was making himself her escort…her protector.
‘This way, please,’ called a voice, and they turned simultaneously to find themselves caught in the flash of a photographer. ‘Lovely! Thank you,’ the young man called, and turned as if to pursue his next quarry.
Although the weather was dry and bright, March in Cumbria was still far too cold for a lengthy posing session and within ten minutes they were all on their way to the nearby hotel where the reception was being held.
Joe wasn’t happy.
There were far too many people in here for his liking, and as for the volume of noise…What it would be like by the time everyone had a drink or two inside them didn’t bear thinking about.
Over the last few years he’d grown accustomed to dealing with humanity on a one-to-one basis. The largest concentration was the shifting numbers of colleagues he might find in the staff lounge at the start of the day.
Joe was seriously tempted to cut and run but then the small hand she’d placed on his arm tightened its grip slightly—almost as if Vicky knew what he was contemplating—and he knew he couldn’t do that to her.
He knew she wasn’t really his responsibility. She was a native of the area after all, and should have plenty of family and friends who could keep her company.
Except she’d seemed determined to go through it alone.
He’d only intended sticking his nose through the door to say he’d been to the ceremony, but when he’d seen her standing all alone at the back of the room, so valiant in her solitude, something had prompted him to approach her.
It had been an uncharacteristic thing for him to do—he hadn’t been dubbed ‘that Scots recluse’ without cause—but there had been something about the stiff way she’d been holding her slender shoulders that told him she was suffering, and if there was one thing he understood…
Not that it was a hardship to spend time