Page 5 of Beyond Rosy Irish Twilight

“How is it going with the planner?”

“I was just about to meet with her.”

He looked up at me and narrowed his eyes. My skin prickled with fear as he assessed me. I swallowed hard and tried my best not to fidget. As strong as I was, I couldn’t stand the idea of what would happen if I disobeyed him. But I still had fight in me, and I had to keep reminding myself of that.

“Your wedding is this Saturday. I suggest you make sure it’s appropriate for the Buchanan name.”

I nodded. “I will.”

“What about a dress? Have you looked at any?”

“I’m going to a shop this afternoon. I’ve already picked several to try on.”

His eyes burned as he glared at me in disgust. “Nothing backless. We don’t want to start any rumors.”

I shook my head. Not that I was worried about starting rumors. There were already a ton of them swirling around Ambrose Buchanan and his disfigured daughter. But that didn’t mean I wanted pictures to hand them to prove what a monster he was. His associates already knew. They were monsters themselves.

He picked up a sheet of paper and handed it over to me. “Here’s the guest list. Make sure the planner gets invitations to them immediately.”

The planner, aka, Julie…already had enough on her plate with throwing together a lavish wedding in a single week. But she had enough staff to make this happen.

“I’ll give it to her as soon as I see her.”

“Good. And tonight, you’ll be going out with Asher for dinner. I want photographs of you having a nice dinner. We need to circulate the images of a loving couple.”

I nodded, but wasn’t sure how to accomplish that. “Okay.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Excuse me?”

I swallowed hard at his tone. “Yes, sir,” I corrected myself.

“Dismissed.”

I turned on my heel and practically ran out of there. As much as I didn’t want to be married off to someone else, I was grateful for the chance to escape this hell. On the other hand, I had no idea who Asher was, or what he was like. I might be trading one hell for another.

But none of that mattered. I couldn’t focus on things I couldn’t change.

* * *

I stepped into the next dress and tried to zip it. Unfortunately, It wasn’t very easy to zip yourself up in one of these contraptions. The first one had been easy enough because I knew before I got it on that I wouldn’t wear it. It had bows on it, something I hated.

I sighed and stared into the mirror. I had to call her in, no matter how much I didn’t want to. “Excuse me? Could you help me zip up?”

The curtain shifted and the gasp she let out was hard to hide. Tears pricked my eyes as I felt shame wash over me. It was ridiculous to feel shame for the scars I bore. Most of the time, they didn’t bother me, but when another woman saw them, that was the hardest for me to deal with. I was supposed to be a beautiful bride on her magical day, but instead, I was hiding scars that would haunt me for the rest of my life. And this was anything but my magical day.

The truth was, it was easier for me to deal with being out in public and risk someone seeing this dark side to me than it was to stay home and be near everything I despised. That’s when the depression began to sink in and I really started to think about how easy it would be to just slit my wrists.

“Um…” The woman zipped me up quickly, resting her hand on my shoulder for a moment. “I understand why you wanted a back to your dresses. Let me see what else I can find.”

I knew it was meant to be kind, but instead, it felt like a slap in the face.You’re terribly scarred. Let’s make sure we cover that up!Which was stupid since it was exactly what I was thinking.

I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. This one wasn’t bad. My father would definitely approve, and that was all that really mattered. The bangles on my wrists slid back, revealing the dual scars on my wrists. I was going to have to find a way to cover those up also.

I stepped out of the dressing room and stood on the pedestal in front of the mirror. The dress pooled out around me like a bell, making little crinkly noises when I moved. I liked the boat neck, deciding it flattered my five foot frame. There was no way I’d wear anything skimpier.

“So, what do you think?” the assistant asked.

“It’s pretty.”

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