Vanity

Vanity
Lucy Lord

Литагент HarperCollins

LUCY LORD

Vanity

To my wonderful parents, Elizabeth and Christopher, with all my love.

Table of Contents

Title Page (#u524d8930-fffe-51cd-a7c7-eb1da461daaf)

Dedication (#u09e722cf-6926-5f49-9480-6a9798d20141)

Part 1 (#ucb36aa2e-e3c3-5848-a873-738cc9e663de)

Chapter 1 (#u89d9aa71-22f0-524a-906c-cbc858233e64)

Chapter 2 (#u11cecc26-ae72-59ed-bf81-1816b5eb1550)

Chapter 3 (#u227fb837-04af-54e1-9ff9-419913fa4a19)

Chapter 4 (#u1622cf66-5fc2-5d12-bebe-078a245416a2)

Chapter 5 (#ueb078ea5-7cea-5e3b-aa68-1500c953f4bd)

Chapter 6 (#ud53fb1e7-e8b4-5c86-9d7a-df5db5002323)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Part 2 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Read on for an extract from Lucy Lord’s next book TREACHERY (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Lucy Lord (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

PART 1

Chapter 1

‘Bollocks,’ said the blushing bride, scrutinizing her crotch through her wedding dress in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. ‘It’s too see-through in daylight, isn’t it? I’m going to have to wear those bloody remedial granny pants.’

The pants in question were an exorbitantly expensive pair of sheer nude silk Myla boy shorts, hardly the passion-killing girdle the comment implied. But Poppy Wallace had set her heart on going commando on her Big Day.

‘Never mind,’ said her best friend Bella, topping up their glasses with Veuve Clicquot. ‘Damian can rip them off with his teeth later.’

They both looked at Poppy’s reflection. Transparency problem aside, she looked more beautiful than Bella had ever seen her, and that was saying something. The sheer white cotton voile dress, suspended from spaghetti straps and embroidered with daisies at the hem and strategically across what there was of her chest, skimmed her tiny body and floated to her delicate ankles. Her streaky white/gold hair flowed loose, halfway down her bare brown back, crowned with a sweet-smelling garland of white and yellow spring flowers. Her only jewellery was her vintage diamond-and-emerald engagement ring and an anklet fashioned out of silver daisies. She was barefoot, and her lovely little face, all wide green eyes, small nose and perfect teeth, was glowing.

Bella’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh, Pops, you look gorgeous. Can I hug you without ruining anything?’

‘Course you can, you silly arse. Come here.’ She flung her little arms around Bella. When she released her, Bella could see that her eyes were suspiciously shiny too. Poppy only cried on the rarest of occasions (unlike Bella, who found herself gently weeping like George Harrison’s guitar with embarrassing frequency now she was in her thirties. Sad news stories, soppy song lyrics, old episodes of Friends she’d seen a million times before – it didn’t take a lot these days).

‘If it wasn’t for you, Belles, I wouldn’t be standing here today. So thanks, lovely. For everything.’

They downed their champagne and Poppy added, ‘Looking pretty gorgeous yourself, if I may congratulate myself on my exquisite taste. In friends and clothes.’

‘Such a pretty dress.’ Bella dabbed at her eyes with her fingers, then licked them, trying not to get any watery black residue on her cotton voile halterneck bridesmaid’s frock (she’d predictably forgotten to pack waterproof mascara). She and Poppy had spent ages choosing the exact shade of coral pink that most flattered Bella’s dark hair and eyes.