AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Not with your markers!” Agnes dove for her niece.
They all watched as Agnes fought to remove the giggling three-year-old from the dress.
“Anyone got stain remover?” Agnes said in disgust as she stood clutching Sophie. “The white dress now has pink graffiti.”
Isobel stopped pacing long enough to look at her beaming daughter. At some point in the past five minutes, Sophie had decided she needed makeup and had added some to her face with her marker pens. A red scrawl covered her lips and cheeks, and there were two wonky blue circles around her eyes.
“See?” Isobel pointed at her. “Look at her face. Nothing’s going right. It’s a sign. The universe knows I shouldn’t get married again!”
“Get a grip.” Agnes removed the pens from the giggling three-year-old before she could draw on her face too. “This isn’t a sign. It’s hysterics.” She handed Sophie to Mairi. “Can you clean her up?”
“Come here, gorgeous,” Mairi said. “We’ll take this off, and I’ll let you play with some real makeup.”
“No!” Agnes said.
Mairi rolled her eyes. “I was only going to give her the brushes. Seriously, give me some credit here. I’m not the one having a meltdown an hour before I’m due to get married.”
Donna picked up the discarded wedding dress. “I could maybe clean this with some nail polish remover.” She didn’t sound hopeful.
Isobel didn’t care. She needed to pace. And to rant. Nothing else mattered, and she seriously wished her sisters would bog off and let her get on with it.
The door crashed open, making three of the women squeal.
“Clam!” Sophie held out her arms to Callum.
“Later, my girl.” He gave her a gentle smile. “I need to deal with your mum, and by the looks of things, you need to have your face washed.”
Sophie giggled and ducked her head into Mairi’s neck. It was then Isobel noticed Mairi wasn’t surprised to see Callum standing in the doorway.
“Traitor!” Isobel pointed at her youngest sister. “You sent him a text.”
Mairi shrugged. “Yep. I told him to get his arse up here and to bring some heavy sedation along with him.” She looked up at Callum. “Please tell me you have the power to drug her.”
Callum’s eyes bored through Isobel, freezing her in place. The desire to pace fleeing under his gaze. All she could do was stare back at him. He looked devastatingly handsome in his black tux, which somehow made him seem even more manly and dangerous than usual.
“James Bond,” Donna muttered, obviously seeing the same thing Isobel did.
“She doesn’t need something to calm her down,” Callum said. “She just needs to remember what she’s doing and why she’s doing it.”
He strode across the room until he stood in front of her. His strong hand reached down to clasp her nape. “Hey darlin’,” was all he said. But that deep rumbling brogue of his seeped right through her bones, providing a warm balm for her agitated soul as it did so.
Isobel couldn’t speak. All she could do was stare up at the man she loved to distraction, willing him to understand something she didn’t fully understand herself—the reason why she was freaking out.
His eyes scanned her face. “You love me,” he said softly.
And her heart melted at the conviction in his words. A tear slipped down her cheek and his hand moved from her nape to cup her face, his thumb brushing away the tear.
“You want to be married to me.” Again, it wasn’t a question. He could see right into her soul and knew the truth.
She fell into his eyes. Losing herself in his strength and in the certainty that he loved her completely. That he would do anything for her. Including save her from herself.
“This isn’t about the marriage,” he said softly. “It’s about the wedding.”
His eyes left hers and scanned the room, taking in the discarded dress in Donna’s hold, before returning to her. “I’ll fix this. Trust me.”
Isobel let out a sob and threw herself into his arms, feeling them wrap around her without a second’s hesitation. She shivered in his hold, overwhelmed and needing his strength. His strong hands were gentle but firm on her back as he reassured her with his touch.
“Mairi,” he said. “Call the vicar and get him over here. I don’t care who else turns up. Donna, forget the dress. Pull out that blue one she wore on our date last month. Agnes, sort out the living room. We’ll be down as soon as the vicar gets here.”
