“I think you’re ready.” Shana moved to stand in front of her. She eyed Kara’s appearance critically, and then after a moment smiled. “Perfect.”
“Oh!” A chorus of feminine squeals from behind her had Kara turning. Veronica held her daughter Lyra by the hand and Felicity stood in the doorway of the small bridal room that was located near the back of the church.
“Do you think the dress is too much?” Kara turned back to the mirror. If it was, it was too late now. The wedding was about to start.
She had chosen a gown that held a hint of historic Romanticism with a slightly elongated corset made of silk Mikado fabric. The ivory skirt below it draped down in flattering silhouette. Delicate off the shoulder straps gracefully skimmedher skin and contrasted with the extravagant volume of the skirts that were gathered up in a loose clutch to one side on her hip. A high slit slightly to one side added a touch of playful elegance to the entire ensemble. The subtle blend of modern and classic,made her feel like she was ready to dance in a ball.
“She’s Cinderella! Just like you, mommy!” Lyra proclaimed in delight.
“Actually,” Veronica studied Kara. “I think she looks like Snow White who was woken up from an enchanted sleep in the forest by her prince.”
Kara met Veronica’s gaze. She truly understood more than anyone else what being prevented from living the life one was meant to felt like. In the months since Christmas, she and Veronica had talked often of how it was still unbelievable at times that this was her life now. The big boisterous Vertucci clan who’d taken her instantly, the friends she’d come to love in Angelo’s world that now was her own too. She was no longer lying cold in a coffin, trapped by the spell of her past. As silly as it sounded, she did feel like Snow White just then. She’d made a place for herself in the world now, and she could leave the last of her sorrows behind.
Kara blew a kiss to the darling little girl who had just turned five years old, and Lyra giggled.
“Don’t forget these.” Felicity held out a bouquet of white calla lilies bound together with a silk wrap and a string of pearls that belonged to Francesca. It was her something borrowed. And as Angelo had pointed out, she already had blue… the blue of her Irish eyes. She wore his grandmother’s ring for something old. The garter resting around her thigh was something new and made her blush.
When Kara moved toward the door, Shana rushed to stop her.
“Your veil!” She carefully lifted the front part of the sheer veil that was trimmed with lace and let it drop over Kara’s face. The veil was attached to a mother of pearl hair comb nestled in the elegant knot of Kara’s red hair.
“Now you’re ready,” Shana declared. Then she turned and hustled everyone out of the room ahead of her.
Matteo Vertucci was just outside the room, and as he spotted Kara his eyes widened.
“Oh…” His face softened. “Oh, Kara,” he opened his arms and Kara rushed toward him, hugging him.
The last nine months with Angelo and his family had been just what she’d always dreamed. When Matteo had asked if he could walk down the aisle, she immediately agreed and they both cried. Just like she was about to do now.
“Oh now, none of that,” Matteo hushed her. “No tears until it’s done. Francesca would kill me if we messed up your makeup.”
Laughing and wiping her eyes, Kara tucked her arm in Matteo’s.
“It’s almost our turn.” His voice was gruff as he too was fighting off a wave of emotions.
They walked down the corridor to the entrance of the Cathedral of Syracuse. The doors ahead of them were open, and she saw a hundred guests filling the pews on both sides of the aisle. Beyond them stood Angelo. He wore a dashing dark blue suit. His brothers were beside him as well as Thad, Rourke and Jared. Felicity, Shana, Veronica and Alessia along with Angelo’s three brothers and their wives finished out the large wedding party.
Kara took it all in, wanting to write every moment deep into the story of her soul. This would be herfavoriteone, one that would never leave her. The story of a little, lost, Irish girl who found a home… a family… a charming prince to call her own.
The organ music changed to her favorite song Canon in D, and Matteo held her hand. “Ready?”
She nodded and they began to walk down the aisle. Everyone in the pews stood and turned to face her. She still wasn’t used to people looking at her, but she lifted her head and found Angelo waiting for her. Kara suddenly had the urge to run… to run right into his arms so that they could spend the rest of their lives together.
It turned out Angelo had been right. Love waseasy. It was patient, it was kind. But it was also fierce and loyal. Love encompassed a thousand beautiful things, and Kara had to remind herself to breathe as she walked toward the man who taught her to discover who she was, and be brave enough to love herself and fight for her happiness.
She paused by Francesca in the front row. Angelo’s mother was frantically wiping away happy tears.
“I love you,” Kara whispered to her mother-in-law who nodded and whispered back one word.
“Daughter.”
Shana stepped forward and took Kara’s bouquet. Kara lifted her gown up with one hand while Matteo brought her to Angelo who held out his own hand for her.
“Daughter.” Matteo echoed his wife’s single word, and he kissed Kara’s veil covered cheek before he returned to his place beside Francesca who immediately clutched his arm and leaned against him. Little Millie who’d performed her duty as the flower girl and young Nicholas who’d been the ring bearer stood close beside their grandmother, eyes wide but their faces full of joy.
“Principessa,” Angelo greeted as he looked into her eyes.
A blush stained her cheeks as she gazed back up at him. Then they faced the priest, spoke their vows in Italian, which Kara had worked hard to learn because she wanted to do the ceremonythe way Angelo’s grandparents had in the very same Cathedral where his grandparents had married so many decades ago.
