1909—Wisps of the Future

Anna never knew what it would take to plan and successfully perform a simple wedding. But there was nothing simple to the Trent family. Every little detail had to be considered, planned, plotted and firmly set in granite months before the wedding would actually take place.

Anna was dragged from one shop to another all over Southampton in search of the perfect gown, the perfect rings, and the perfect flowers. The perfect invitations were ordered from the printers, embossed with gold scrollwork. The cost was more than what she thought possible for a small packet of papers that would most likely find their way into the rubbish of each recipient other than her mother and the one she kept for her memory book.

She tried so many different gowns they all began to look alike. Anna wanted brilliant white. Mrs. Trent, who was in charge of everything, wanted champagne. "It will look much better in the light of the church. The church will be lit by thousands of candles. The color of the gown must match the lighting or the effect will be ruined. It must be soft, not bright." Mrs. Trent spoke with the air of a worldly matron speaking to an ignorant child.

They entered yet another shop lined with many flowing, colorful gowns. Anna followed along, running her hand absently across the soft skirts, enjoying the feel of satins and brocades as she followed Mrs. Trent toward the owner of the shop, Mrs. Marlow. Mrs. Trent was already giving direction.

Something made Anna stop. Her hand closed tightly on a gown. It was dark blue satin, shiny and cool with a sheer veiling of silvery blue lace. It was heavy in her hands. She could not turn away as the color drew her in. She shivered with a sudden cold, clutching the material.

A biting wind slapped her face, as if moving forward at great speed through frozen air.

The gown came loose.

A cold, wet fog surrounded her. The floor tilted at an alarming angle. Anna was sliding downward with nothing to hold on to.

As she melted into the surrounding darkness, an icy cold washed over her face. She couldn't breath. She couldn't hear what was happening around her.

Where had Mrs. Trent gone? Anna tried to call out but could not. Chase? Where was he?

Fear gripped Anna as she tried to free herself of the waves clinging to her face, cold, frighteningly alive. Suddenly came the scream of a foghorn. Bright lights popped overhead. The sound of twisting metal creaking, tearing as if in the distance. Voices cried out. Hundreds of voices. Silence.

As quickly as it came, it was gone. Mrs. Trent and Mrs. Marlow looked down at Anna.

"What on earth are you doing down there, Anna?"

She could hear the embarrassment in Mrs. Trent’s voice. "Are you all right, dear?" Mrs.

Trent lifted the gown from her, straightening the material as Anna struggled to her feet.

"I don't know what happened." She didn’t understand what happened but felt she should apologize. "I felt very cold, like fog on my face. It was very—strange." She tried to explain, eyeing the gown Mrs. Trent handed to Mrs. Marlow.

Mrs. Trent smiled at the shop owner. "You probably see nervous brides every day, don't you, Mrs. Marlow?"

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Marlow agreed as she handed the gown to her assistant. "There is no more important day in a young lady's life than her wedding day. It is difficult to make everything come together perfectly and," she placed a reassuring arm around Anna, leading her to the bridal area, "it is your day, isn't it? You want to have everything exactly as you have always dreamed it would be, yes?"

"Uh—yes, Ma'am." As if anything would be what she wanted it to be. Anna was determined to be Mrs. Chase Trent and nothing, not a meddling future mother-in-law or dark blue gowns that suffocate the bride-to-be would stop her.

I really did enjoy Her Perfect Man. I’ll be recommending it to friends. This is the kind of book that is best read with:

1. A bottle of wine on a side table
2. A large bar of chocolate
3. No fingernails that you may be tempted to bite off
4. This book should come with a ‘Poke your monitor’ warning. The end of my index finger hurts from stabbing the screen.

5 Flutes

Reviewed by Wilga Hill

Read the entire review HERE

1907—Southampton, Yorkshire, England

"I plan to marry well and will do anything to make it possible," Anna announced to Colin one warm day the following spring. "I dreamed of the man who would be perfect."

"The perfect man—again." Colin rolled his eyes.

Anna continued, ignoring his attitude. "He has to have dark hair and brown eyes. He is romantic—and loving—and adores me no matter what I do. I will be pampered and taken care of for the rest of my life."

"Where do you think you will find this man?" Colin looked up and down the street. He leaned against the high brick wall surrounding his home. He ate an apple thoughtfully as she paced back and forth before him; his eyes ever surveyed her frame. "There are not too many fitting your description around here."

He took a bite, and blotted juice from his lips with his sleeve. The warmth of the day had prompted him to come out with his shirt loosely tucked and partly open at the neck. He looked very much the part of the gypsy that day.

"Don't worry. I'll find him. You'll see." Anna stopped pacing and pulled his hand down to take a bite from the apple.

"Do you think I might apply for the position?"

Anna laughed. He smiled, and cast his eyes down in mock embarrassment.

"As if your father would allow it. He wants you to marry a girl from a finishing school," she paused to drop a curtsey, "who can run a proper household. Someone who can entertain the best company and…"

"Enough, Anna. I know what my father wants." He paused as if weighing a thought before he ventured on. "It's not especially what I want." He threw the apple core over the wall above his head. Colin caught Anna by the wrists, and slowly pulled her toward him. "Let me tell you what I want." He looked down at her.

Anna stumbled, and nearly fell against him. She recovered her footing at the last moment. He pulled her palms to his chest, their faces barely six inches apart. Anna could feel his heart beating like thunder; the heat of his body penetrated the thin material of his shirt.

She swallowed as she wondered at the emotion that rose within her. "Colin Marsec, we are standing in a public street." Pulling her gaze from his face, she looked around to see if anyone was about. "Someone might see us. This does not look proper."

"I don't care." He shrugged, and increased his hold on her. "I want a certain sixteen-year-old girl. She is slender." His eyes caressed her face. “Stubborn, red-haired, and not as in control as she thinks she is.” His voice lowered to a whisper. Anna caught herself as she leaned closer to hear, melting into his dark eyes before she realized what she was doing. “She thinks she knows what she wants. I happen to know what she needs. I also know where to find her anytime I want her. I don't have to wait for her to materialize from a dream."

 She pulled her hands from his grip, and stepped away before she found herself lost in his fantasy. "Your father would disown you and your gypsy ways without a second thought. You’d not be able to support her. Then what?" She turned her back on him, as she tried to control the beating of her own heart. She walked proudly away, and swung her hips. She paused to look over her shoulder in what she considered a seductive manner.

His lips curled in a playful smile and there was a dangerous spark in his eyes. Anna loved that look. He was about to break the rules. She picked up her skirt and dashed as fast as she could down the sidewalk to the alley, a short cut to her street.

She heard Colin giving chase and he caught her just over half way through the alley. He had only to reach out and catch a handful of her hair, using his hold to guide her back against the eight-foot brick wall that separated his yard from the alley. Anna grasped his hand with both of hers, and tried to free herself. He took advantage of the situation, captured both of her hands, and pinned them above her head.

"Someday, Miss Anna Scott," his face barely an inch from hers, "you will regret teasing me."

His voice was low and menacing. He pressed his body against her, holding her to the bricks. With the tilt of his head, his lips met hers in a hard kiss that kindled sparks all the way to her toes.

He stepped back in triumph, and slid his hands down her arms and her sides before he allowed them to drop from her hips. Colin winked and strolled briskly toward his street, not looking back.

"No, I don't think so," Anna called after him.