The Cold Light of Mourning - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,14

Wynne had been nibbling on her toast, the groom and his supporters had been tucking into a rather more substantial breakfast at the Hall. Gwennie, who had been working for the family for years and was stopping over for a few days to help out with the wedding, had left cold cereal, yogurts, and juices on the dining room side table, along with a tempting spread of kippers, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and hot buttered toast in silver warming dishes. One by one the men had arrived downstairs, hair still slightly damp from the shower, and lifting the heavy covers of the warming dishes, eagerly helped themselves.

“That was wonderful,” said David as Emyr went around the table, coffeepot in hand, offering refills. “Have you thought of doing B and B? You’d look very fetching in your pinny.”

Emyr joined good naturedly in the loud laughter as he sat down again.

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” he said as he looked around the lovely dining room. “Somehow I can’t see Meg Wynne running the valley equivalent of a seaside boardinghouse.

“Now listen, you lot,” he said, taking a sheet of yellow paper from his pocket and waving it at them. “Here are our latest marching orders. We’ve got a lot to get done today, and the girls will kill us if we don’t get things right. And they’ve added more things to the list, it looks like.” He studied the page for a moment. “Someone has to get down to the florist to pick up the buttonholes. Oh, and you might as well take the Land Rover. It needs petrol, so you can get it filled up while you’re out. Any volunteers?”

The men looked at one another.

“I’ll do it,” said David. “As the best man, isn’t it my job to do your bidding today?”

“As a matter of fact,” agreed Emyr amiably, “I think it is.”

Tall, blond, and reassuringly well built, David looked like a man who had the money to hire expensive personal trainers, and the time and motivation to follow the regimes they created for him. In contrast, Robbie Llewellyn was short and dark, with the kind of Celtic good looks that had distinguished Welshmen for generations. He had studied law at Cardiff University and after a few years of practice there, had returned home to the Conwy Valley where he was doing well in a general practice.

The men spent the next few minutes dividing up the errands that should keep them occupied all morning, and making plans to meet back at the Hall for a light lunch around one.

“By the way, I heard that Miss Teasdale’s died,” Robbie Llewellyn said as they pushed back their chairs from the table. “Do you remember her? She was a wonderful teacher, wasn’t she? They don’t make them like that anymore. You wouldn’t believe the clerks we get in these days. Couldn’t spell to save their lives and couldn’t care less. She really drilled things into us. Hated it at the time, but I’m grateful now.”

Emyr and David looked at him.

“I didn’t know,” said Emyr. “That’s too bad.”

David murmured sympathetically.

“She was always on at you two,” Robbie added. “Telling David he’d have to change his ways if he was ever going to amount to anything and as for you, Emyr, remember how she used to tell you to stand on your own two feet and that you didn’t have to do everything that Williams boy told you to?” He had mimicked an English accent in a high-pitched voice for the last part of the sentence and they all laughed at his bad acting skills.

“Well,” shrugged David, “what can I say? I guess I’ve done a whole lot better than they thought I would. But enough about me. Let’s get ready to roll.” He reached over to take the last piece of bacon, and then, thinking better of it, withdrew his hand and turned toward his friends.

“If it’s all right with you, Emyr,” said Robbie, “I’ve got rather a big real estate project on at the minute, so I’d just like to pop into the office for an hour or so this morning. I’ll be back in time for lunch, though.”

Emyr nodded and tapped him lightly on the chest.

“Just make sure you get through the things on your list. Everything has to go off exactly the way Meg wants it. Exactly.”

The men left to go their separate ways and a few minutes later Gwennie crept into the room carrying a large tray on which she