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“It is pretty.” Kirsty smiled at her friend.
They’d draped the vast bay windows with purple chiffon, making a perfect backdrop for the lectern, which was decorated with yet more white roses and irises. The room was exactly as Kirsty had imagined it would be—elegant, simple and beautiful.
“I had another word with the caterer today,” Caroline said. “Just to make sure everything will go smoothly.”
Kirsty made a mental note to give the caterer a hefty bonus for dealing with Caroline.
“And will it?” She knew the answer before she asked—Caroline wouldn’t tolerate anything short of perfection. It made Kirsty smile.
“I told her we wanted to set up tables in the conservatory for the meal. They’ll do that first thing in the morning.”
The conservatory was a new addition to the castle, and Caroline was eager to see how it worked for entertaining. The new room sat off the dining room and looked out over the garden. The floor-to-ceiling windows meant the view would be stunning—especially with the snow.
“I made Josh plan some music in case the band can’t get here. He says he’s happy to sing if he’s needed. It’s all going to be great.”
Kirsty hadn’t even thought about the possibility of the band she’d booked being snowed in. She knew she should be grateful that Josh was willing to sing at her wedding—the guy usually sang to crowds in Wembley or Madison Square Garden—yet she couldn’t work up the enthusiasm.
She looked around the elegant room and wondered if Lake would even notice the surroundings. He’d been absent for most of the planning. She really couldn’t imagine that he’d care what the place looked like. A low throb started in her stomach as she wondered again if she was forcing them to make a huge mistake.
“Don’t worry.” Caroline read her mind. “You’re just getting cold feet. It happens to all of us.”
“You’re probably right.” Although Kirsty knew it was something else. She didn’t have second thoughts about marrying Lake; instead she was terrified he had them over marrying her. “We’d better get back in case Jena is wrecking the place.”
Caroline rubbed her hand across Kirsty’s back. “It will all look better in the morning. You and Lake need to have a chat, that’s all. Once you clear the air, you’ll feel much better.”
They walked, arm in arm, back into the dining room, where the women of Knit Or Die were showing off their twerking skills—something they’d learned for Caroline’s wedding—and Jena was giving them tips to smooth out their technique.
“I really don’t need to see my mother shake her booty,” Kirsty said.
“I need to bleach my eyes after this,” Megan shouted past the loud music.
“I’ll give you—” Kirsty’s words were cut off when the lights went out.
The music stopped dead and there was a loud shout of protest. The women wanted to dance.
“Power cut,” Joe said as he came into the room. It was easy to make out his huge frame in the glow from the fire. “Nothing to worry about. Do you have a generator, Caroline?”
“No, we don’t. I should have thought of that.”
Kirsty knew Caroline was mentally adding “buy a generator” to the list she kept going in her head.
“At least the heating isn’t electrical.” Heather pointed to the raging fire and the gas central heating. Not exactly fixtures that were accurate for the castle’s time period, but as Caroline had pointed out to Kirsty, restoration only went so far when you had to live in a place.
“Is the whole town out, or only us, do you think?” Caroline said.
“Whole town, I’d say,” Kirsty said.
“Don’t worry.” Abby came up beside Caroline and put an arm around her. “Our place has a generator. We needed it when we were mushroom farming. The kids will still be able to watch the Disney Channel until their eyes turn square.”
Caroline was visibly relieved. “Jessica’s scared of the dark.”
“Of course she is, honey, she’s only twenty months old. But honestly, they’re okay. Mum and Lawrence are there, there’s central heating, a generator, plenty of food and candles in case all else fails. The kids are in a better position than we are.”
“You’re right. I just worry.”
“Motherhood is fun like that,” Abby said, rubbing her huge belly.
“It never stops,” Kirsty’s mum said as she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s waist. “You always worry. Even when your kids are too old to listen to you.”
