scheduled for release next month, she was halfway through her second book, and Alex was already talking about the movie. They’d agreed they would divide their time among her house in Florida, his flat in London, and Rutherford.
“How’s that look?” Ann asked, still fingering a curl into place. She’d pulled front sections of Sarah’s hair up and piled it into a mass of curls at the crown of her head, letting the rest fall down her back in a cascade of gentle waves, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face.
Becca walked up handing Ann a treasured sterling silver hair comb that had been their mother’s. Ann placed the rhinestone starburst in her hair to the right of her crown.
“The perfect final touch,” Becca said, her eyes welling with tears as she caught Sarah’s eye in the mirror.
“Don’t . . . you’ll make me cry.” Sarah smiled, taking her hand.
“Not so fast.” Ann held out a lovely white leather box. “This is from Alex . . . his wedding gift to you.”
Sarah took the box, hands trembling, and opening the lid found a strand of pearls from which hung a large tear drop amethyst pendant accompanied by matching amethyst tear drop earrings. There was a collective gasp from the three of them.
“They’re magnificent,” Sarah breathed. “Becca, would you put these on for me?” she asked, handing the strand to her. Becca fastened the necklace around her neck while Sarah put on the earrings.
“The amethyst matches your engagement ring,” Ann said.
“Yes. Alex likes me best in purple.” She didn’t elaborate on the reason he loved her in purple: it was the color of the dress she wore when we went to Stratford-Upon-Avon, the night he said he fell in love with her.
There was a polite knock on the door, and then Lady Clara popped her head in. “Sarah? Oh gracious. You aren’t even dressed yet. You must move along my dear, the ceremony is about to start.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Sarah said, using the nickname she’d chosen for her whenever she scolded her. “I’ll only be a moment, nothing left but the dress.”
Lady Clara left the room with a promise to return if Sarah wasn’t out in five minutes.
Ann had already gone to the closet to retrieve the dress, a simple unembellished silk chiffon in ivory cut in a Grecian style. Stepping into it, the whisper of the cool satin under-slip across Sarah’s skin raised goose bumps.
Becca buttoned the long row of covered buttons down the back, while Ann picked up the bouquet of Clara Louise roses, a pale lilac-colored rose her husband had named in her honor.
Sarah turned once more to look at her reflection. The dress’s lovely deep v-neck framed the pearls beautifully. The empire-waist gave way to a chiffon skirt that fell to the floor like a cloud, her ivory satin-encased toes peeping out from underneath.
“Oh, Sarah. You look breathtaking,” Ann and Becca spoke at the same time. “Jinx!” they both cried. They all laughed.
“We’d better go before Lady Clara sends in a footman to carry me bodily down the stairs,” Sarah said with a smile.
Rutherford provided a perfect location for the wedding and the reception. It was secluded enough to keep the tabloid magazines away, and it offered luxurious accommodations to the limited number of guests, all of whom were thrilled to stay in a seventeenth century manor house.
They heard the soft strains of Gluck’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits played by the string quartet floating through the doors from the terrace.
The Admiral waited at the foot of the stairs, a smile so wide he thought his face might crack under the pressure. “Baby, you leave me quite speechless.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she replied, reverting to her childhood name for him.
“Nervous?” Ann whispered on the way to the open French doors.
“No,” Sarah said, without hesitation. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Even the thought of being in the spotlight was not a concern today. She knew she would have Alex by her side.
“That’s good, because this is it,” Ann said as she stepped to the doorway for the opening notes of Bach’s Sinfonia in G.
Safely tucked behind the door so no one could see her, Sarah looked out at the intimate gathering. The late May day couldn’t be more spectacular. The English countryside was in full bloom, the air was soft and warm, perfumed with the scents of lilac, freesia, and hyacinth.
Ann stepped out, followed by Becca, each in knee-length lilac chiffon gowns, walking slowly