Deadly Memories by Pamela M. Richter

Author:Pamela M. Richter [Richter, Pamela M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2012-06-21T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

“Madam? Okay, do you think?”

The maid who had been assigned to Andrea when she arrived at the villa on the French Riviera was pointing at a stairway covered with bright red carpeting.

“I hope so.” Andy smiled, but with a bit of trepidation. She had practiced going down those stairs in her high heels several times, but she had never actually tried it in the wedding gown. It was impossible, wearing the long gown, to see where her feet were going. The steps leading to the garden where she was to be married to Rolph in just a few minutes, were long, at least thirty feet, and very steep. She was positioned behind one of the thick round pillars which supported the large patio, so no one could see her yet.

Rolph’s mother, Bethanie Follett, had the idea for the bride’s grand entrance. Andy was to appear high above the guests now seated, hushed and waiting in the garden below, from the Follett villa which was situated on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Andy, who was not normally intimidated by anyone, had been coerced into going along with the plan.

Rolph’s mother was a tall, very determined woman, with dark brown perfectly styled hair, immaculate and slim with sharp features. She had been superficially and superciliously gracious to Andy and her family when they arrived, very unlike her husband, the French Ambassador, Lawrence Follett, who was much older, with a large head of white, lion-like hair. He had adopted the American family with courtliness, grace, and a supreme accepting type of gentleness.

Andy had horrible visions of tripping and making an ungraceful swan dive down the stairs to the garden. She peeked from behind the pillar as two maids finished pulling the train into place. Hundreds of people were seated below. Beyond them was the beautiful vista of the endless sea, with yachts and fishing vessels gaily gliding in the harbor. It was evening, twilight time, and stars were beginning to appear in the distance over a beautiful pastel sunset that was reflected in the water. Red suited valets were just lighting two immense torches, which were positioned on marble stands on either side of the red carpet leading down to the garden.

“You are so lovely, ma cherie,” the maid, who spoke a little English, said.

“Thank you.” Andy took a deep breath. She thought she should be terrified, but she was beyond that now, with the sensation that she was in a surreal dream.

This fabulous entrance was like barbaric torture, comparable to walking the plank from a pirate’s ship. She imagined the exquisitely adorned French elite below as the sharks.

Music from the orchestra on the veranda was swelling; her cue to get into position on the red carpet. Andy stepped to the right from behind the pillar and positioned herself in the middle of the red carpet. The maids carried her gown behind her and then quickly retreated.

There was an audible in-drawn breath from the sea of people below.

All I have to do is get down to Dad, Andy reminded herself consolingly.

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