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Scarlet took the box and stared down at it.
‘Oo, oo, yes, open it,’ clapped Flora.
Scarlet pulled at the gold organza ribbon and twisted the lid off the hat box.
‘Oh, my God! Wow!’ She reached in both hands and gently lifted out the most exquisite fascinator. ‘It’s gorgeous, but why have you…’
‘Nothing to do with me,’ Sophie smirked, exchanging a glance with Flora who had also been in on the secret. ‘This has beensent to you with the most sincere wishes of our genius milliner, Marco Gallieri, and his express instructions that you wear it to the wedding.’
Sophie had quashed her initial uncharitable thought that the gift might have been a ploy by Marco to get a sample of his work on the TV. When she had seen the look on his face as he handed the box over to her, a suspicion of dampness on his lower lashes, she knew the hat was more than just something beautiful for Scarlet to wear on Lilac’s wedding day.
‘Thank you. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Help me put it on! Oh, thank you so much.’ Scarlet grabbed each girl in turn before standing still to allow Sophie to affix the headpiece.
‘Don’t thank me. This was all Marco’s idea and hard work. I’m sure you’ll have the chance to thank him personally.’
‘Oh, I…’ Scarlet’s cheeks coloured.
Sophie and Flora smiled. ‘You look stunning. Be careful not to overshadow the bride!’
‘Oh, you know there’s no chance of that. Lilac’s wedding gown is a true work of art. We are officially the royal trio of seed-pearl princesses!’
There was a knock on the door and Flora trotted across the suite to answer it.
‘Oh, hi. Come in.’
Sophie heard the surprise in Flora’s voice. She twisted round from fixing Scarlet’s fascinator, hair pins sticking out from her mouth, to see who had interrupted them.
‘Hi, Craig.’
‘Just wanted to say “break a leg”, if that’s the correct saying for a wedding such as this? And would you mind if I get a few shots of you all getting ready to leave?’
‘Sure!’
Sophie gathered up the skirt of the silk summer dress in a delicate aquamarine that she had designed and embroidered herself for the wedding. Marco had also gone to town on the hat he had designed for her. She almost felt like she was the bride! Indeed, if she were really honest, she would have preferred to get married inheroutfit, rather than the intricate gown Lilac had wanted, stunning piece of artistry though it was.
Sophie, Scarlet, and Flora grouped together and screamed “Cheese!” whilst Craig ducked and dived and clicked away until the girls crumbled into hysterical giggles. It was the ideal way to dispel the rising tension. Sophie suspected this had probably been the precise purpose of Craig’s mission – or maybe not, as she saw his eyes constantly seeking out Flora’s and the couple exchanging covert signals like a pair of forbidden lovers.
‘Fancy a drink later on when you get a break from all this?’
A grin split Flora’s face and her cheeks coloured with pleasure.
‘I’d love to.’
‘I’ve got those photos I took of you in the garden at Somersby Manor. There are a couple I think you’ll love,’ he smirked. ‘Particularly the one with you swimming in the fountain!’
‘You swam in the fountain?’ spluttered Scarlet.
Flora giggled, her expression radiant. ‘I think paddled might be a better word.’
A snake of limousines, their windows tinted against the sun and prying camera lenses, coiled along the hotel’s shortdriveway waiting to transport the bride and her entourage the half mile to the cathedral. Sophie and Scarlet helped Lilac climb into the first car, along with her mother who was walking her down the aisle in the absence of her father whom, she had assured them, was with her in spirit on her wedding day; that was why the sun was bleaching down from a clear blue sky.
When the first limo had headed off, the girls piled into the next one, urging the driver to make sure they arrived at the cathedral first so they’d be on hand to straighten out the dress on Lilac’s arrival.
Everything went according to plan. The bride’s journey down the aisle towards her handsome prince was a smooth glide of pure elegance and style. The floor-length veil could not disguise the glow of joy emanating from Lilac’s slender silhouette as she exposed her adoration for her soon-to-be-husband to the watching world. Her wedding gown was exquisite, regal even, under the soaring arches of the church; the perfect length, with a short train in ivory silk, the skirt split by a dart from waist to toe into which swathes of Swarovski crystals and seed pearls had been sewn, shaped like cascading flowers, which, when studied carefully, were miniature blossoms of lilac.
The neckline was demure, respectful of the place of majesty that would bless their union. Hidden beneath the veil was the most magnificent tiara Sophie had laid eyes on, and she’d seen her share of celebrity weddings. No diamanté or paste in sight – these were real diamonds, edged in pale lilac amethysts, on loan from Tiffany’s. The tiara had its own security detail in addition to the strategically placed personal protection officers for Finn and Lilac.
As the last crystal-clear note of the angelic ballad drifted up to the vaulted ceiling high above the awestruck congregation, Sophie stood on her tiptoes to watch Lilac and Finn Marchantbeam for the wedding photographer and videographer whilst they signed the register. All of a sudden, her mind was invaded by a sense of gratitude that, together, her little team had pulled off the most glorious feat in the fashion world that week, if not that month. Lilac looked every inch the film star she was. There were no creases or wardrobe panics that could have spoiled the day.
