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He thanked Emma for designing the dress and for being such a wonderful bridesmaid and he made a few jokes about the differences between Russian men and English men. But then his face grew solemn as he turned to Zara, and, although everyone in the room could hear what he said, he seemed to be speaking just to her.
‘I’ve been trying to work out words which would do my new wife justice,’ he said slowly. ‘But it’s proved a tough call. There’s no need for me to tell you that she’s beautiful—because you can all see that for yourselves. I could tell you that she’s hard-working and strong and independent—but those of you who know her will already realise that. I could tell you that she makes me laugh more
than anyone I’ve ever met. That she lights up a room when she walks into it and every minute spent away from her leaves a little ache in my heart. I could tell you that she has taught me so much about life that is important. But most of all …’ at this he smiled into her eyes and raised his glass of champagne ‘… she has taught me the meaning of love. And I love her,’ he said simply. ‘I love her so very much. So I ask you please to raise your glasses to my wonderful wife and to drink to Zara.’
‘To Zara!’ the room echoed and then burst into rapturous applause.
But Zara was too busy scrabbling inside her white satin handbag to fish out a crumpled-up tissue. Had Nikolai—the notoriously private Nikolai—just stood up in front of a roomful of people and told them how much he loved her?
Nikolai laughed softly as he took the tissue from her trembling fingers and began to dab at her cheeks. ‘Better now?’ he murmured.
She sniffed. ‘Much better.’
‘Should I ask why you’re crying?’
‘Because I’m so happy.’
‘I thought so.’
She thought his own eyes looked suspiciously bright as he pulled her close against him. But that was okay. Everyone knew that people always cried at weddings.
