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“No. I’ll bicker with him on my deathbed,” she retorted smartly. “Aren’t you supposed to be with them?”
“No,” Stuart replied. “I decided against freezing my arse off out in that weather.”
“Dad!”
“Freya, I’ve already undergone seven fittings of my bloody suit. I’m paying a small fortune for this wedding. I think I’ve done enough.”
“But, Daddy!”
He held up his hand. “You chose to have your wedding here at this time of the year. Both your grandfather and I warned you of the risky weather, and you chose to ignore us. I will help you with whatever you’re doing, but I think your grandfather and brother can handle the guest list.”
Freya drew in a deep breath, and she looked like she was about to argue, but he cut her off.
“Your mother is helping them, anyway,” Stuart continued, dropping his hand. “And all she has to do is call Aunt Gwen and everyone will know within five minutes. Besides, guests are already arriving in Duncree including James’ parents, grandparents, and brothers, because he’s just left to collect them from the airport.”
She frowned. “I thought they weren’t arriving for two more days.”
“Yes, well, it turns out some of your guests are able to check a weather forecast and rearrange plans of their own accord.” Stuart’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps you should give them more credit.”
Freya looked away and sniffed. “Well, I’m glad they’re here for him.”
I fought a smile and peered over at her. “A few extra hands would be good, just in case of emergency.”
Morag clapped her hands. “Exactly. And they’re all staying nearby on the estate in the rental cottages, so there’s no risk of them not being here for the ceremony. Right, now that we know the most important people will all be here for sure, let’s go and sit down with a pot of tea and figure it all out, shall we?”
“An excellent idea, Mam,” Stuart said. “It’s bloody freezing out there.”
“Wait,Mumis helping Grandpa with the guest list?” Freya said, gripping Stuart’s arm. “Are we sure that’s a good idea?”
“No,” he replied with a wan smile. “I’m sure your brother can handle it.”
“It’s always nice to have faith,” Morag said, looking at me. “Come on, toots. Let’s get a cup of tea and see what we can do to make sure this wedding doesn’t implode on itself.”
If that were even possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – GRACE
Not Even The Llama Wants The Drama
I peeled my arm away from my eyes as the door opened, and William stopped dead when he saw me.
“Don’t,” I said, dropping my forearm back to where it was. “Just don’t.”
His light chuckle filled the air, followed by the click of the door closing. “I did warn you, but you wanted to be a hero.”
“I said ‘don’t,’ William,” I repeated, not moving from my dramatic, woe-is-me position on the couch. “I am exhausted. I’m hungry. I have a headache, and I need a strong drink.”
“Yes, that’s usually how my sister leaves people feeling. Luckily for you, I’m prepared, and I happen to have all those things right here.”
Slowly, I raised my arm and tilted my head to look over at him. He had three bags from a supermarket, one of which was clinking.
“That one,” I said, pointing at it. “That’s the one I want. I don’t even know what’s in it, but I know I want it.”
He laughed and put all the bags down. “I also have pizza,” he said, pulling five boxes out of the bag.
“Why do you have five boxes of pizza?” I propped myself up on my elbows, staring at the stack of pizzas.
He clicked his tongue. “I didn’t know which one you liked.”
