She could tell by his tone that there’d been a shift in Lucas’s mood, though she had no idea what had caused it. Of all the things to fuss about. He’d married her at the last moment, but the underwear drawer stopped him cold? What else could they do? They couldn’t send his family after his things and have them knowing he hadn’t planned for his honeymoon. Even Lucas wasn’t that disorganized.

“Do you have a better idea?” she asked.

He looked over her head now, wearing an insipid smile. “Fine. Just send Anna.”

Kate opened her mouth to respond, then changed her mind. The last thing she needed was an argument on the dance floor.

Kate faced the mirror in the bathroom of the White Elephant’s Shoreline suite. Her dark hair, caught up on the sides, disappeared beneath the triple-layered veil. Her makeup still looked fresh, her dress stunning. Her shoulders, carefully tanned over the past month, looked every bit as lovely as she’d hoped.

Only none of it mattered now. Bryan loved someone else, and she was married to a man she barely tolerated.

Ah, but my career is salvaged. At least I have that.

She set her heavy bag on the marble counter and opened it, resting the floppy lid against the beveled mirror. The zipper clanged against the glass.

The carriage ride to the hotel had seemed to take forever even though it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. She was tired of pretending. Which didn’t bode well—the entire next year would consist of nothing but pretense, and just one night of it had worn her to the bone. Her feet hurt, her head ached, and all she wanted was to slide between the sheets and pull them over her head.

Maybe it wouldn’t feel so awful in the morning. The sun would come up, it would glitter off the harbor, and the fresh air would remind her it was a new day.

At least she wouldn’t have to move from Nantucket. It had been the one thing she’d dreaded. She pictured Bryan’s apartment in downtown Boston and sighed at the thought. She’d never go there again. Never sit on his couch and eat popcorn while they watched CNN.

She turned her attention to her suitcase. Her clothing, carefully rolled to avoid creases, was packed in colorful buns all lined up in rows. She scanned the pieces and realized the satin and lace article she’d planned for tonight would hardly suffice. Instead, she pulled out a shirt with a mock turtleneck and a pair of knee-length shorts. It would have to do.

She looked in the mirror, noting her drawn expression, and willed herself not to cry. Then, with a sigh, she began the tug-of-war of releasing herself from her gown.