Page 52 of One Bridegroom Required!

Holly couldn’t imagine anyone saying no to Luke, but then he started kissing her, and it wasn’t until some time later that she got a chance to ask, ‘So how did you find my mother’s dress?’

‘It wasn’t easy,’ he admitted. ‘But I was determined to do it.’ His eyes had never looked bluer as they read the question in hers. ‘As some kind of peace-offering, I guess, because I felt so bad about everything. After you kicked me out, I went back to the house to change, and I started thinking about Ursula—’

Holly blinked. He certainly was a man of surprises. ‘Why?’

‘I wondered if maybe she knew more about your mother’s dress than she realised.’ He swept a hand back through the thick, gold-tipped hair. ‘I knew she was staying at The Bell that night, so I went to see her and found out which local newspaper her mother had advertised the dress in. Luckily it still existed. So then I travelled down to London to see the editor.’

‘What on earth for?’

‘Well, I thought it would make a good Christmas story. To find out if the person who had bought it still read that newspaper. The editor agreed to run a piece on it, to see what it would turn up.’

‘And what happened?’ asked Holly, fascinated now.

‘The woman who bought it contacted me and told me the whole story. She had been let down. She bought the dress for a wedding which never took place—because the man she was in love with was married to someone else. He’d spun her the oldest story in the book and abandoned her when she was just a couple of weeks pregnant.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Holly, and bit down painfully on her lip.

‘She grew to hate the dress, but she could never bear to get rid of it because it was so beautiful. Later, she thought about selling it once or twice, but no one offered her anywhere near its true worth.’

‘So what did you do?’ breathed Holly.

‘I met with her and offered to buy the dress from her—’

‘For a lot of money?’

‘For what it would be worth today.’

Holly gave a low whistle. ‘That’s a hell of a lot of money.’

His eyes were very blue. ‘Small compensation for the hurt she had suffered.’

‘And she agreed?“

‘She was delighted—her only proviso was that there should be no publicity, and I could understand that. So, I’m giving you back the dress, Holly.’

‘And the catch?’

‘No catch.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s yours—to do what you want with.’

She looked down into her hands for a moment, and when she lifted her head again her green eyes were very bright. ‘I think I’d quite like to wear it,’ she told him softly. ‘In church.’

Luke smiled. ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say.’

Michelle McCormack was feeling flustered as she repositioned a dark green leaf. ‘Holly, will you please hurry up?’ she scolded. ‘Everyone is there. The vicar is there. Luke is there. Much more time and I’m sure that some of your arty friends are going to kidnap him—I overheard one girl say quite shamelessly that she’d love to sculpt him!’

‘I’ll bet she did,’ agreed Holly calmly. ‘And she probably has no intention of using marble!’

‘Holly!’ Michelle’s voice softened. ‘You look wonderful. Just wonderful.’

‘Do I?’ Holly stared at herself in the mirror. It seemed strange to be preparing for her wedding, in her shop. She was the first bride to wear her mother’s dress and it looked perfect. ‘It doesn’t look dated at all, does it?’

‘Not at all—and you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,’ said Michelle honestly.

‘You look pretty nifty in that outrageous hat yourself!’

Holding Holly’s bouquet, Michelle came up behind her to look in the mirror, and the two of them silently observed the stunning impact of the thick, ivory satin and the delicate pleating at the waist. In Holly’s hair was a coronet of copper roses and dark, glossy green leaves which echoed her bouquet.

Luke had chosen the flowers, much to Michelle’s amusement and envy. ‘I’ve never met a man who chose his bride’s flowers before,’ she sighed. ‘But he insisted. The roses were to match your hair, he said; the leaves your eyes.’

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