Page 39 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
‘I don’t think we’re meant to.’
‘You look lovely, by the way,’ he said quietly.
‘Thank you.’ She had ordered her dress and jacket online. The dress was purple, a shade darker than lavender, with a straight bodice and an A-line skirt, delicate lace trim along the neckline and hem. The jacket was short, a simple cream with large, pearly buttons, though she’d left it open. She had forgotten to buy new shoes, but her wedding shoes were cream silk, low-heeled, and most of the mud from her original journey had dried, so she’d been able to brush it off. She had manoeuvred her dark brown, shoulder-length hair into a partial up-do, and framed her dark blue eyes with several coats of black mascara. ‘So do you,’ she said to Dexter, which was a criminal-level understatement.
He was in a navy suit, crisp white shirt and silver-blue silk tie. He wasn’t entirely clean-shaven, but his stubble was shorter, neater, and his curls had been tamed slightly with some kind of wax. He looked incendiary.
‘Oooh!’ Lucy squealed as they reached the manor. Harry was standing in front of the double doors, which had been flung open, a Christmas wreath made up of mistletoe, holly and glittering white pine cones hanging on the inside togreet visitors. Next to Harry, Felix was wearing a deep purple jumper with one large red heart on the side.
They waited for Ermin and Fiona to greet Harry and head inside, then walked up to him.
‘Dex.’ He sounded nervous. ‘Lucy, Imogen, Artichoke. You all look brilliant.’
‘You do too,’ Imogen said. Harry’s outfit was the same as Dexter’s, the navy suit looking great on his tall frame. ‘You match.’
‘Dexter’s my best man. Didn’t he tell you?’
Imogen turned to Dexter.
He shrugged. ‘I thought everyone knew.’
‘Everyonedoesknow,’ Lucy said.
‘I didn’t,’ Imogen replied. ‘But then I am newish.’
‘And you’ve got …’ Lucy started, then clamped her lips shut.
Imogen suppressed her laughter. She was amazed that Lucy hadn’t blurted out her secret before now. She gave her a discreet thumbs-up, her hand down by her side.
‘You’ve got what?’ Harry asked, running his fingers through his hair.
‘A lot going on,’ Imogen said. ‘You know.’
‘I’m so glad you could come today.’
‘Me, too. Thank you for inviting me. It looks beautiful.’ She gestured to the manor, the long sweep of lawn that ran down to the sea in the distance, mature oaks and birches framing the view. ‘But I suppose it always looks like this.’
‘We didn’t change a whole lot apart from the mistletoe,’
Harry admitted.
‘Sophie and May inside?’ Dexter slapped Harry on the back.
‘Yup,’ Harry said, and Imogen saw him swallow. ‘Hopefully, anyway.’
Dexter laughed. ‘I don’t think Sophie’s going to run away from your wedding, do you?’
His words were followed by an uncomfortable silence, then Lucy hissed, ‘Dad!’
‘Two runaway brides in a matter of weeks is statistically pretty unlikely,’ Imogen said, because she didn’t want anyone to feel awkward. ‘I think you’re safe.’
Dexter looked mortified. ‘Imogen, I’m so sorry.’
‘You don’t need to be.’ She squeezed his arm, relishing the feel of muscle beneath the fabric of his jacket. ‘I’m not offended.’
‘Crap.’ He rubbed his jaw.
‘Nocraps,’ she said. ‘You’re on best man duty; you need to be calming Harry’s nerves.’
