The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [180]
It was dark on the porch and she lay down beside Viktor, burying her blond head in his neck so that her tears disappeared into his fur. “It’s all going to change again, Viktor, milochka,” she muttered, “I know it. They’ll want to leave here and go live somewhere else.” Her thin arms clutched at him and he licked her face comfortingly. “But you and I will never leave,” she promised fiercely. “Never, never, never.”
Golden lamplight spilled out across the grass and the music grew even gayer and the pop of champagne corks and the sound of laughter stole across the quiet street. But there was no joy for Azaylee as she sobbed herself to sleep, curled up next to her beloved dog.
The wedding was arranged for eleven-thirty the following Saturday morning at the Little Brown Church on Hollywood Boulevard, and everyone was invited. Azaylee was to be a bridesmaid and Rosa the matron of honor.
“I’ve never set foot in a church before,” she confessed to Missie, “but since there’s only one God then yours and mine must be the same.”
Dresses were bought quickly, flowers ordered, and a wedding breakfast arranged at the Hotel Hollywood. When the big day dawned, calm and clear and blue as all the others, O’Hara put on his silver-gray morning suit and silk top hat. He added a large gray pearl stickpin to his cravat and a purple carnation to his lapel and departed for the church half an hour early.
The boarders dressed in their finest, borrowing hats and pinning on each other’s corsages, leaving in a flurry of excitement, and taking Rosa’s girls with them.
“Nu, Azaylee,” she said, inspecting her critically, “did anybody ever tell you you are a beauty? Because it’s for certain you are lovely enough to be a movie star already.”
Azaylee’s long golden eyes opened wide and she touched her ruffled lemon-yellow organza skirts shyly as she said, “Do you really think I could be a movie star, Rosa?”
Rosa grabbed her close and kissed her. “This very day, if Mr. C. Z. Abrams ever saw you,” she replied firmly, looking relieved when the girl laughed. Azaylee had been too quiet these last few days and it worried her. The child didn’t seem jealous because Missie was marrying O’Hara; she just didn’t know what was the matter and Azaylee wasn’t saying. Azaylee gasped and Rosa swung around and stared at Missie, framed in the doorway.
She was wearing creamy lace, tight-waisted and long-sleeved, with a fichu neckline and full skirts. A coronet of fresh orange blossom was perched on her piled silken-bronze hair and she carried a spray of tiny, perfect yellow roses. But it was her eyes that dazzled them, dark and shining with happiness.
“I love you, Missie,” Azaylee exclaimed, running to her.
“And I love you too,” Rosa murmured wistfully, watching as Missie kissed the child, whispering something in her ear.
“I’ll never leave you,” she whispered to her. “Remember, you will always be my little girl. You are more important to me than anything in this world. Please be happy, milochka.”
Azaylee nodded bravely. “I’ll try,” she promised.
Dick Nevern poked his head around the door. “Your car is waiting, Rosa,” he said, and they all laughed as Azaylee darted onto the porch and came back with Viktor on the end of a length of yellow ribbon, a rose tucked into his collar.
“Viktor comes too,” she said, eyeing Missie hopefully. “Of course,” she replied calmly. “Viktor always comes too.”
Dick, who was to give her away, cleared his throat and said, blushing, “May I say, Missie, I have never in all my life seen any lady look so beautiful?”
She smiled. “Then you’ve never been in love. Just wait until you see your own bride on her wedding day. Then you’ll know you’ve seen a beautiful woman.” She remembered with a shock that she was not much older than Dick, only twenty-four, but compared with his untouched youth she felt like a woman of the world.
O’Hara’s face beamed at her as she walked down the short aisle. Candles glittered on the silver and gold ornaments, heavily perfumed roses spilled from hundreds of vases, and