Framed by a Forgery Read online

Frank looked astonished. His gaze darted from Lacey’s hand on his, then up into her eyes. He was clearly moved, and his eyes glazed over as they filled with tears.

  “I’d be honored,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Lacey smiled at him, lovingly, invitingly. This was the most surreal moment of her life. Her father, in her mind, had always been so enormous, so powerful, a man who could pick and choose whether he wanted her in his life, who could fling her away at a moment’s notice. Never had she expected it to be the other way around, for her to be the one reassuring him that he was loved and wanted and needed. All her ideas about her dad jetting off into the sunset with some fancy English antiques-seller suddenly shattered as she realized there was so much more to Frank’s disappearance than she’d ever considered. Things that she would one day ask about, but for now, was willing to set aside. Because at last, Lacey knew her father would be walking her down the aisle. And for the first time since she’d arrived on his doorstep, she didn’t feel a host of conflicted emotions. She felt just one.

  She was happy.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Gina, this has got to be a joke,” Lacey muttered.

  The two women were standing in the antiques store, bright and early on a cool winter’s morning, and Gina was proudly holding out the most monstrous wedding dress known to man. It was a bedazzled mess of tulle, satin, and lace. It had a train made of scraggly chicken feathers; the poor man’s alternative to elegant, fashionable ostrich feathers, Lacey noted internally.

  The wedding was next month, just a few weeks away, and there was still a lot left to do with regards to the preparations, including finding the dress.

  Gina grinned. “Don’t you just love it?”

  “I—I don’t know what to say,” Lacey stammered. “You’re not even on dress duty!”

  Gina gave her shoulder a little shrug, like she was well aware she’d gone above and beyond her maid of honor duties, and was pretty darn self-congratulatory about it. “I know. But when I saw it in the window of an antiques store, I thought it was just perfect.” She adjusted her red-framed spectacles, her gray eyes eager behind the thick glass. “Isn’t it extraordinary?”

  Lacey pinched the satin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s extra something all right…” she murmured.

  Just then, the door to the store opened with a tinkle and in walked Finnbar, the young PhD student who worked as a part-time assistant whenever he didn’t have his nose stuck in a history textbook. He took one look at the dress Gina was holding and reeled back with a grimace.

  “What is that?” he exclaimed with horror, his hazel eyes widening.

  “Lacey’s wedding dress,” Gina said proudly.

  Finnbar blinked. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. His expression said it all. His chestnut brown eyebrows rose slowly up his forehead. He unfurled his checkered scarf, revealing cheeks reddened by the cold weather… or second-hand embarrassment.

  “Actually, I haven’t decided yet if I want to wear white,” Lacey interjected hurriedly, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, like a nervous tic.

  Gina pulled a bemused expression. “What? Why not?”

  “Well, both Tom and I have been married before,” Lacey said, plucking an excuse out of her mind as quickly as she could.

  “So?” Gina pressed.

  “So, we might decide not to go the whole traditional route,” Lacey explained, trying to sound as diplomatic as she could.

  Gina deflated, her arms flopping dejectedly down to her sides, making the feathered tulle, satin, and lace dress pool against the floorboards. “I wish I’d known that before I shelled out so much money on this.”

  Lacey grimaced internally. She dreaded to think how much Gina had paid for the hideous dress.

  “I’ll put it on the shortlist!” she added, quickly. “And I’m sure Tom and I will decide on white eventually, anyway. It’s just, you know, a discussion we need to have before we make any solid decisions.”

  This seemed to mollify Gina. The older woman smiled and gathered the dress back up into her arms. “In which case, I’ll put it in the back room for safe keeping,” she said. “We don’t want any customers trying to poach it from right out under your nose!” She hop-skipped off across the shop floor, a pleased grin on her face.

  As soon as she was gone, Lacey let her fake smile fall, and sighed.

  Finnbar flashed her a skeptical look. “You have no intention of wearing that, do you?” he guessed.

  “Absolutely not!” Lacey exclaimed in a stage whisper. She shot a quick glance toward the arch that led to the storeroom to make sure Gina definitely wasn’t in earshot before adding, “I just couldn’t bear to tell her. It would crush her spirit. She’s really throwing herself into the wedding prep recently, and I don’t know how to reel her back in.”

  The green-thumbed Gina had been put in charge of the flowers, and nothing more. But just like Lacey’s mom, Shirley—who’d been put in charge of finding a harpist for the ceremony and a bluegrass band for the reception—both women had taken it upon themselves to interject at every single turn. Sometimes it felt like Lacey had two moms telling her what to do. It was getting out of hand, and Lacey was finding it increasingly difficult to remain level-headed.

  Finnbar headed around the back of the counter and hung his scarf and duffle coat on the hooks behind him. “You should tell her sooner rather than later,” he said. “You know what she’s like. If you use not wearing white as an excuse, she’ll only go out and find a black one next.”

  Lacey twisted her lips. He was right. She’d have to politely, yet bluntly, ask Gina to tone it down a bit, before her stockroom became a fitting room for ugly old wedding dresses.

  Just then, the bell went again, for the first customer of the day. Lacey turned to greet them.

  But before she’d even uttered a syllable, her eyes widened with astonishment. It wasn’t a customer at all. It was her father.

  He looked very out of place standing in her antiques store in his farmer’s boots and brown corduroy trousers, a big navy-blue waterproof coat making him look puffy like a marshmallow.

  “Dad!” she exclaimed, gasping. “What are you doing here?”

  In her peripheral vision, she spotted Finnbar cast her a darting, shocked look.

  “Dad?” he echoed with astonishment.

  Lacey gulped. She’d not told either of her co-workers about her visit to him. She was still busy processing it all. Tom, of course, had heard the whole thing recounted in great detail several times as she’d anxiously replayed it, but she’d not yet been ready to let the cat out of the bag with anyone else. But now, with her father’s sudden appearance, the choice had been taken from her.

  Lacey hurried away from Finnbar and over to her father, her arms open wide for a hug. Only she was beaten to it by Chester, who leapt up from his sleeping basket and jumped against Frank’s chest like they were long-lost bosom buddies. Lacey let her arms drop, suddenly second-guessing the embrace.

  “Hey, Chester, old chum,” Frank said, vigorously scratching him behind the ears.

  He’d brought a whiff of cow manure in with him.

  Probably trekked it in, Lacey thought, noting the thick mud caked to the bottom of his Wellington boots.

  That was until she spotted something through the window that made her stomach drop. It was a huge, ugly, mud-splattered cattle transporter. Bits of hay stuck out through the back doors, and there was a trail of it all along the cobblestone road. The vehicle had been parked very badly, half up on the sidewalk right outside the entrance to Tom’s patisserie, obscuring his window display.

  While she was touched he’d driven all the way here to see her, Lacey’s stomach began to churn anxiously at the sudden appearance of her long-lost father into her world, and his uncomfortable proximity to her fiancé he was yet to meet. She’d thought it was clear during their meeting at his farmhouse that they were going to take things slow while they found their footing once again with one another.
This felt like a very big step. An intrusion, even.

  “What are you doing here, Dad?” Lacey asked, breathless with shock.

  “I borrowed a cattle truck from Jerry,” Frank said, continuing to ruffle Chester’s fur. “He’s the farmer.”

  It didn’t answer Lacey’s question. She wanted to know why, not how, but she didn’t get a chance because at that moment, Gina came back from the stockroom. She caught one look at Frank and let out a huge, theatrical gasp, loud enough to make both Lacey and her father flinch.

  “LACEY!” Gina bellowed across the shop floor. “Is that your father?!”

  Lacey felt herself recoiling inwardly, like a startled tortoise finding sanctuary in its shell. “Surprise,” she said lamely. She wondered how Gina had guessed. Perhaps she and her father shared more facial similarities than she realized.

  Gina came barreling toward them, half flustered, half excited. Lacey noticed her dad take a bracing step backward, before Gina elbowed Chester out of the way and flung her arms around the stunned-looking man, pinning his arms against his body in an embrace that looked both unexpected and painful.

  “Gina, can you let the man breathe?” Lacey said, feeling a strange pang of jealousy of Gina’s confidence. “Please.”

  Gina let go, but she kept her hands on Frank’s shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes. “You two look so alike,” she said, as she began brushing down the upper arms of his dark jacket, like she was a proud mother getting him ready for Sunday school. “I’m just so thrilled to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you,” Frank said, in a small, bemused voice.

  “Lacey never said you were coming,” Gina added, turning and punching Lacey in the arm, her gesture at least half genuine anger.

  “I didn’t know he was visiting, either,” Lacey murmured, rubbing the sore spot on her arm.

  “It’s an impromptu visit,” Frank explained.

  He seemed awkward and uncomfortable. Perhaps Gina’s over-enthusiasm was throwing him. Lacey hoped her friend’s extreme ebullience wouldn’t send him running for the hills. On second thought, maybe it would be for the best if it did, at least temporarily? Lacey felt like too many worlds were colliding, and she didn’t know how all the pieces could possibly fit together.

  “Dad, you didn’t need to come all the way here,” she said, turning her back on Gina in an attempt to gain some sense of privacy. “I’m always happy to visit you if you need to talk.”

  “I don’t have a telephone,” Frank replied. “Besides, I prefer to do conversations face to face.”

  “What conversations?” Lacey asked, nervously. Conversations seemed like such a loaded word. Her mind started anxiously turning over the thousand possibilities of what it might mean.

  But Gina clapped them both on the back, interrupting their hushed aside.

  “You two should head out and grab some breakfast,” she said, her loud voice even louder thanks to her proximity to Lacey’s ears. Lacey leaned her head as far away as she could as Gina continued. “I can mind the store.” She looked from Lacey to Frank and back again. “What do you say? Give your dad a tour of the town?”

  “Actually,” Lacey said, ducking down to remove herself from the awkward three-way hug Gina had forced on her, “I already had a big breakfast and—”

  “Nonsense!” Gina interjected. “You only ever have breakfast when Tom stays over, and I know for a fact he didn’t last night because his van wasn’t in the driveway.”

  Lacey sighed. That’s what she got for living next door to her nosy best friend.

  “If you’d let me finish,” Lacey continued, “I was going to say I also have a ton of stuff to get done here today. There’s all that paperwork to prepare for the security camera guy…”

  Frank held his hands up in the air. “It’s fine. I understand if you’re too busy.”

  “We could meet up for lunch?” Lacey suggested hurriedly. It wasn’t that she was trying to get rid of her dad, she just needed a bit of time to process his sudden appearance in her personal space, on her home turf.

  “Lunch?” Frank said. “Yes. Okay. Yes, lunch sounds good.”

  “Lacey!” Gina interjected with a frown. “This is your father. You know, the man you’ve been waiting years to see! You can take the day off to spend with him!”

  Lacey shut her eyes with exasperation. Her friend just wasn’t getting it, and now was not the time to explain her conflicted feelings. Yes, it had been years since she’d seen him, but she had not spent that whole time waiting. Indeed, she hadn’t even actively begun searching for him until she’d moved to Wilfordshire. She’d been fatherless most of her life, and she didn’t feel comfortable just letting her father into her world all of a sudden, like a switch had suddenly been flicked. She’d wanted to take it slow, to take her time, to adjust to simply being a daughter again. Having Frank here was disrupting that process.

  “Gina…” she said, between her teeth.

  “Honestly, it’s fine,” Frank said. “I shouldn’t have just dropped in like this unannounced when you’re busy. Although, I might be able to help? Did you say there was something wrong with your security system? I could take a look at it. Make myself useful. I’m a trained electrician.”

  “You are?” Lacey exclaimed at the exact same moment that Gina cried, “Well, isn’t that just perfect!”

  Lacey opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. This was all too much for her. It had taken her weeks of deliberation to pluck up the courage to visit her long-lost dad, and now suddenly here he was, in her store, conversing with her best friend, with his dirty cattle van parked in front of her fiancé’s store! It was too much to process. Her mind began to swirl.

  “No, Dad, look, it’s fine,” she said, trying to sound diplomatic. “I don’t need you to fix the security camera for me. I’ve got everything covered, and if I can just get back to my paperwork—”

  But this time, Frank was the one to interrupt her.

  “Lacey,” he said, in a strangely stern voice. “There are some corners in life you just can’t cut, and security is one of them.” He put his hands on his hips and frowned.

  Lacey blinked with astonishment. Slowly, her eyebrows rose. Had her father really just pulled the dad-card on her? He’d not been her father for over thirty years! And now he was going to lecture her about the importance of personal security? She bristled.

  “Dad,” she replied, with an edge of warning to her tone, “I know how to take care of myself. Everything is fine here.”

  “Oh come on, Lacey, let your old pa help out!” Gina exclaimed. “It’ll be nice to have another man around the place, won’t it, Finnbar?”

  She directed her question over her shoulder, to where Finnbar was still standing behind the counter, watching the whole thing in complete stunned silence. The poor boy opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking like a fish out of water.

  Gina turned back. “See! Finnbar can put on the kettle. Frank, dear, you drink tea, I presume?”

  “I do. An English breakfast would be great.”

  “What are you doing?” Lacey hissed under her breath at Gina, glaring at her intrusive friend.

  “The quicker we can get someone to fix the camera system, the better,” Gina replied. “What with all those murders we get round here.”

  Lacey glowered at her, trying to hush her up. But it was too late. Frank’s eyes widened.

  “Murders?” he repeated. “You get a lot of murders in Wilfordshire?”

  There was no way out of it now, Lacey realized. Her father would never leave town now. He was going to be here for the foreseeable future. Somehow, Lacey was going to have to calibrate all those different bits of her life, whether she was ready to or not.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to take a look,” she said.

  Frank didn’t need telling twice. He pottered away from her to the closest camera mounted in the corner of the store and peered up at it.

  “Hmmm,” he said, disapprovingly, shaking his
head, before wandering on to the next. “Oh no, this won’t do.”

  With her father occupied, Lacey turned to Gina and glared. “When did you become so oblivious to my hints?”

  “Oh, I got your hints, all right, missy,” Gina replied. “I just decide to overrule them.”

  “Why?” Lacey demanded in an angry whisper. “You’ve no right to get involved!” She put her hands on her hips. “Is this because you’re mad I didn’t tell you I’d been to see him?”

  “It’s not that at all,” Gina replied. “Although you should’ve told me.”

  “Then what?” Lacey demanded. “Why are you forcing me to hang out with him when I’m trying to take it safe and slow?”

  “Because,” Gina said, knowingly, “your dad is clearly looking for an excuse to spend some time with you and doesn’t know how to say it. My advice, take the offer. You never know what might happen. People can get taken away from you in the blink of an eye. You never know when might be the last time you see someone.”

  As she let Gina’s words percolate in her mind, Lacey turned to watch her father as he pottered to the next surveillance camera and tutted his disapproval. Gina’s advice gave her pause for thought. Gina’s son had died young. If there was any life wisdom to take from her, that would be it.

  Perhaps having her dad around wouldn’t be as psychologically difficult as she feared. Maybe taking it slow was overrated. Maybe it was like ripping off a Band-Aid and she should just jump into it with both feet.

  While she weighed up the pros and cons of taking Gina’s advice, Frank paced back to them and let out a whistle.

  “Well, your whole system is a mess,” he said. “It’ll take more than a few hours to get that back up to par. Maybe I should stick around in Wilfordshire for a while? Do you know any good inns to stay at?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey spotted Gina giving her a knowing look, and conceded that on this occasion, she was right. Her dad was offering her an olive branch right now, and she’d be a fool not to take it.

  “Stay with me,” she said with a change of heart. “At the cottage. I’m not having you in an inn.”