Page 93 of A Wedding in Tuscany

The hugs and kisses come fast and thick and I’m soon swept up in well-wishing and congratulations.

‘Great dress!’ says Jane hugging me tightly. When she releases me, I do a little shimmy to show it off. ‘I think I like this one even better than the first. You look ridiculously hot for a bride.’

I grin at her. ‘Aww, thank you.’

‘And stop with the false modesty. Very unbecoming.’ I stifle a snigger, my lips pressed together. She glances over at Jean-Luc. ‘Actually, you two may be the hottest bridal couple I’ve ever seen.’

I follow her eyeline and take in the beautiful man that I’ve just married?swoon!?then turn back to Jane. ‘I’m so glad you could come. I mean, I know we see each other every day, but it means the world to me that you’re here.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it.’

‘And look, I know we owe you a decision?’

She holds up a hand and smiles at me. ‘All good, lovely. We’ll figure it out.’ She’s being far kinder?and more patient?than I deserve. ‘Right, now I’m going to congratulate your handsome hubby.’

‘Save me a dance later?’ She and I have spent many hours on the dance floor together.

‘Oh, you know it.’ She kisses my cheeks and steps away.

Louis, one of the last to congratulate me, is shy when he steps forward. ‘Félicitations, Catherine,’ he says, kissing me on both cheeks. ‘Bienvenue dans la famille.’ If only. Louis married into the Caron family?like I just have?but unlike me, he is both welcomed and loved. It could be because he’s French, or because he and Cécile have given Jean-Luc’s parents grandchildren, or maybe it’s because they were relieved someone wanted to marry that acerbic cow.

This is your wedding, Cat. Be nice, I tell myself.

‘Merci, mon frère.’ At that, he smiles before stepping aside to congratulate my husband. ‘My husband’?it’s only been a few minutes and I am already in love with those two words.

Alistair and Jae are last and when Jae steps up, she says, ‘Great job!’

I laugh. ‘Thank you, Miss Wedding Planner.’

‘And congratulations,’ she says, throwing her arms around my neck. I return the hug and when she steps back, she holds up her phone. ‘Oh, and I just checked and I got the whole thing on video.’

‘Oh, thank you, Jae.’ Sure, it was our plan, but I worried that she’d miss the ceremony because she was too busy filming it.

‘Oh, no trouble at all. I filmed you walking in, then set up the tripod on that barrel over there.’

‘You clever thing.’ This earns me a double-dimpled grin.

‘I took some terrific photographs too, Cat,’ says Alistair as he hugs me. ‘You’re going to love them, I promise.’

‘Oh, you are a darling. I was barely even aware of you, you were so stealthy. Thank you.’

‘An absolute pleasure. It’s not every day I get to be a wedding photographer.’

‘On that,’ says Jaelee. ‘I’m going to get you a celebratory glass of prosecco. Then you’ve got about ten minutes before we head out to the vineyard for pictures. We want don’t want to miss the last of the sunlight.’

With Sarah on Maid of Honour duties now that the wedding has started, Jae has taken over logistics and like I always knew she would, she runs a tight ship. Josh will be taking most of the wedding photographs with his digital SLR, but Alistair is also a decent amateur photographer and between them, I have no doubt we will have an array of beautiful images of our day.

Sarah’s laugh catches my attention and when I look over, she’s chatting with Lindsey. I cast my eyes about and everyone is in such a joyful mood, my heart is singing right now. ‘Catherine.’ The voice is quiet and deep and it startles me. I spin in its direction and there she is?Cécile.

‘Hello, Cécile.’ She leans forward and I endure her Sahara-dry cheek kisses.

‘Congratulations,’ she says, though her cold eyes could turn a grown man into stone.

‘Thank you.’ I won’t bother speaking French to her, even though I certainly know enough to have this conversation. She’d only scoff at my accent and make me feel like utter crap?more like utter crap, that is. She’s the sort of woman whose very presence can suck the life out of you?like a Dementor in designer clothes. She looks about the loft and there it is, that supercilious sneer. Never mind that we were supposed to be married in the great hall. I won’t bother explaining that either.

‘Cat, can I borrow you for sec,’ says my sister. She whisks me away, her arm hooked around mine, before I can politely excuse myself. ‘What did Sister Bitchface want?’ she asks, steering me in the direction of the bar. Jaelee is already there and turns right as I approach, a flute of prosecco in each hand.

‘Here you go,’ she says.

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