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"I love Hugh, but it's too early to think about marriage." Though Hugh did ask if I'd like to have children with him, so maybe it's not too soon after all.
"Don't wait on my account. If he asks, promise me you'll say yes."
"Now you're ordering me to marry Hugh?"
Derek chuckles. "No, Avery. I'm giving you both my blessing."
I study my brother for a moment. "Did you meet a girl here? That would explain your sudden desire to get me hitched. Love makes people want everyone to be as happy as they are."
"Most of the women here are already married. Besides, I live in New York."
"So do I. That didn't stop me from getting involved with Hugh."
Now it's Derek's turn to study me. "Are you planning to move to the UK? Or does Hugh want to live in America?"
"We haven't talked about that yet."
He grasps my upper arms and gazes at me with such earnestness that my throat goes thick. "I want you to be happy. If that means you stay in the UK, I'm fine with that. Don't make any decisions based on where I live. Promise me that, okay?"
"I promise."
My brother kisses my forehead and walks out of the room.
The morning has raced by so fast that I didn't realize it's almost noon. The ceremony will begin at one o'clock. I rush to my room and unzip the garment bag. A warm, tingly feeling sweeps through me when I see what Hugh has chosen for me. It's a designer dress. Hugh chose a semi-formal one that will go with the tone of the wedding and the reception. The knee-length dress features a floral pattern on a powder-blue background. When I put the dress on, it fits just right.
Well, Hugh has explored my body thoroughly.
As I'm exiting the dining room into the ground-floor hallway, I see the bride in the vestibule. Several women hover around her to make minute adjustments to her ensemble. Kate wears a gorgeous wedding gown decorated with lace, bead work, and a small train. Her veil hangs behind her head in a cascade of lace that matches her dress.
Kate notices me standing outside the vestibule door and smiles. Then she winks. "I'll see you at the reception, Avery. Can't wait for your wedding."
I decide not to point out Hugh and I aren't even engaged yet. This is Kate's big day, and saying inappropriate things is the bride's prerogative.
Since Hugh is a member of the wedding party, I walk out onto the green alone. But I'm not alone for long. A man who tells me he's Errol Murdoch, Callum's cousin, offers to walk me to my assigned seat in the front row. He kisses my hand, then leaves. I'm sitting sandwiched between Callum's parents and Rosalyn Parrish, with Jack's pregnant wife on the other side of Greer and Alistair. Derek sits beside Rosalyn. Lady Sommerleigh wears a designer dress too, but hers is a tasteful silver number that covers her arms and extends partway down her calves. I wonder briefly if Hugh chose her outfit when he bought mine, but then I realize Rosalyn must have a closet full of haute couture. She doesn't need her son to buy her clothes.
I shift my attention to the altar—and my heart skips a beat.
Hugh stands between Callum and Jack wearing a kilt and a waist-length black jacket that has silver buttons and accents. He has a black bow tie too. A silver clip secures the length of plaid that drapes over his shoulder and down his back to halfway down his thigh. White socks cover his calves, and his shiny black shoes have laces that wind up his ankles. The kilt features a pattern that I assume is the MacTaggart clan tartan—light blue and green criscrossed with black and orange lines.
Hugh looks incredible in that outfit. He might not be Scottish, but damn, he should wear a kilt every day.
Music starts up, with a string quartet providing the ambiance as the two bridesmaids amble up the aisle to the altar. I recognize those two women, but I can't remember their names. Finally, the wedding march begins, and Kate walks down the aisle with her father.
My eyes tear up now and then, but I don't cry during the ceremony like most of the other women in attendance do. It's a beautiful event, and Kate and Callum's love for each other feels like a palpable force radiating through the crowd. Even the people who don't cry, like me, still seem as affected by this moment as I am.
Callum kisses his bride.
The crowd erupts with cheers, joyful shouts, and a deafening amount of clapping.
Hugh grins and slaps his friend on the back. Then he kisses the bride's cheek.
Kate turns around and hollers, "Ladies! If you're not married, get in position."
A horde of women scramble to line up in the aisle, but I stay put.
Kate raises her bouquet, readying for the traditional moment when someone will receive a floral sign of nuptials to come. Not that I believe a random toss decides anyone's fate. Kate glances over her shoulder, her smile so big and exuberant that it makes me beam too. Then she winks and tosses the bouquet.
It lands on my lap.
