Page 70 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say Kathleen was spying on me for you.”
She waved a hand. “Nonsense, Thomas. Is Sylvie all right?”
“Wedding drama,” I replied.
Mum pulled out a stool and sat down, joining me properly at the island, and wrapped her fingers around her mug only to quickly pull them back. “Hot.” She laughed. “What wedding drama? Can I help at all?”
“Don’t you have enough to do?”
“Don’t be silly. I never have enough to do. Not now I don’t have to assemble a drum kit.”
I’d believe that when I saw it.
“Did you see about that crash yesterday?” I asked.
“On the M65? The one with the lorry driver on his phone?”
I nodded.
“Of course. What about it?” She leant forwards. “Oh, no. Is everyone all right?”
“Yes, everyone’s fine,” I replied quickly. “But Hazel’s veil was in the van that went up in flames.”
“Oh, dear. Can’t they get a new one? Rush shipping?”
I pressed my lips together. “No. It was a custom made one designed to show their families coming together. There’s no time to replace it.”
“Oh, dear,” she repeated. “How terrible.”
“Sylvie wants to fix it, naturally, but she’s pretty much out of options.”
“Of course, she is,” Mum replied, sitting up straight. “She’s not only her wedding planner, she’s her sister. No doubt she’s going to be devastated by this on a personal level as well as a professional one. It’s a tough spot to be in.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s the impression I got. I really don’t know what she can do to make it better.”
Mum tapped her fingers against the counter. “Find another veil, I’d imagine.”
“Yes, Sherlock Holmes. That did cross both our minds.”
She laughed, drawing her mug in close to her before curling her fingers around it again. “I may have a solution to this problem, you know.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “The Carmichaels have a family veil,” she said, referring to Julian’s family. “It belonged to Julian’s great-great grandmother, and it was handmade by her mother for the wedding. It was said to be a gift that should be handed down to the firstborn daughter of each generation, but other than his great-grandmother as the fifth child of that generation, there’s yet to be a daughter born at all, never mind firstborn.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“Indeed. Since then, every generation has only consisted of boys. Julian’s dad wanted to break that and have Cassandra wear it, therefore changing the tradition to the eldest son’s bride of each generation unless a daughter was born.”
“Was she able to wear it?”
Mum shook her head. “At the time they got married, Julian’s grandfather was still alive and forbade it. He was staunchly against breaking the tradition, so Steve and Cassandra accepted it, and she purchased a veil herself.”
“Wait, so the veil has been in a box for… what? A hundred years?”
“More than,” Mum replied. “As it happens, I remember having lunch with Cassandra not long after your father died. That was before Julian proposed, of course, but both she and Steve were aware of his plans.” She leant forwards and picked up her teaspoon to stir her tea again. “She said to me that she hoped Hazel could wear it or that she and Julian would have a daughter who could. I’ve never seen the veil myself, but she said it’s incredibly beautiful.”
I tapped my fingers against the countertop. “Are Julian’s grandparents alive? On his dad’s side?”
