Page 46 of Fake Fiancée, Real Baby
“Just this,” she whispered, resting her head on his chest.
He brushed the hair from her cheek, kissing the top of her head. She felt safe in his arms. But more than that, she felt confident — confident in the promises he’d made, and in the future that was to come.
CHAPTER 23
CLAIRE
“Shouldn’t I be doing something? Isn’t there something… I don’t know… let me help with your hair.”
“No, Mom, really, it’s fine. I’m sure Esme can manage,” Claire said, smiling at her mom, who’d been pacing up and down the apartment for the past half an hour.
“But what’s the mother of the bride supposed to do at a royal wedding? Just look pretty?” came the reply.
Claire shook her head, still smiling, as she returned her attentions to her preparations. It was the day of the wedding, and the whole of Flandenne was abuzz with excitement at the prospect. In the distance, Claire could hear the bells of the cathedral ringing out, and she’d already spied the golden state carriage waiting on the forecourt below.
“I think you look beautiful, Miss Bellamy,” Esme said, as she checked Claire’s hair one last time.
The dress was an ivory design, made by a fashion house in Paris. Claire and the queen had gone together for the fitting, spending a weekend in the French capital, where they’d bought shoes andevening wear in the finest boutiques. Her necklace and tiara had belonged to Adrien’s grandmother, and she wore an engagement ring the prince had gifted her. Looking at herself in the mirror, Claire could hardly believe the woman staring back at her. She was about to marry into one of the great royal houses of Europe — to become the crown princess of Flandenne. It felt a long way from Detroit, and the backyard of her parents.
“Remind me again where I sit. The rehearsal was all a whirl. I don’t remember anything about it,” Claire’s mom said, turning from the window with an anxious look on her face.
She looked very pretty herself — dressed in a light brown suit and matching fascinator, with an elegant scarf draped over her shoulders. Claire rose to her feet and held out her hands with a smile.
“You don’t have to remember anything. Someone will show you where to sit, when to stand, and when to leave. All that matters is you’re here.”
Claire’s mom nodded. There were tears in her eyes, and if she wasn’t careful, her mascara would run. “Oh… it’s just a little overwhelming, that’s all. I can hardly believe my little girl is getting married. To a prince. We’re a long way from Detroit.”
“I know, Mom. But you’re happy for me, aren’t you?” Claire asked.
Her mom nodded. “Oh, Claire… I couldn’t be happier, because I can see how happy he makes you. All the rest — the pomp and ceremony, the cathedral, the lavishness of it all… none of that really matters. As long as you’re in love.”
Claire smiled. Her mom was right. The rest was all just window dressing. Love was what counted, and Claire knew Adrien lovedher. He’d proved it. The restaurant was set for its grand opening, and, though Claire knew she’d have to take some time out once the baby was born, the excitement of having her own place, of realizing her dream, was further proof of everything Adrien had done for her.
“We are, and actually, there’s something I want to tell you,” Claire said, glancing at Esme, who already knew the truth about the baby.
Her mom looked at her in surprise, her eyes widening, as though she guessed what Claire was about to say.
“Oh… you mean…” she started, and Claire nodded.
“Yes, but don’t say anything to anyone. It has to look as though it happened… now,” Claire said, blushing as her mom gave a shriek of delight.
“Oh, Claire, how happy I am. Your dad’s going to be made up. Doessheknow?” she asked, gesturing in the vague direction of the rest of the palace, as though the presence of the queen inhabited its every corner.
“Not yet,” Claire replied. “We’ll tell her in a few weeks. Everything’s moved so quickly it won’t matter too much.”
A knock now came at the apartment door, and Esme opened it, ushering in the escort of liveried footmen who were to accompany Claire on the carriage ride to the cathedral.
“This is it,” her mom said. “And I’m so proud of you. Let’s not keep your dad and brother waiting. They’ll be wondering what to do with themselves.”
Claire smiled. She was ready, and, taking a deep breath, she took her mom’s arm.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
Claire couldn’t believe the size of the crowds as the carriage left the palace that morning. She was greeted with cheers as she and her parents and brother drove through the square. It felt as though the whole of Flandenne had turned out to greet them, waving flags and cheering.
“I feel like royalty,” Claire’s mom exclaimed.
Her dad laughed. “You practically are,” he said, glancing at Claire and smiling.
