worrying whether we’d get it all finished,’ Nessie admitted, feeling shaky but relieved at the journalist’s praise.
‘At one point I thought Sam might actually punch the plumber.’
Everyone laughed. ‘I doubt even Franny could have fixed it if she had,’ JoJo said. She crossed the room to stroke the curtains on the four-poster bed. ‘Just look at this
– Jamie’s going to have a hard job getting me out of it in the morning.’
‘I don’t suppose he’ll try too hard,’ Kate said with a wink. She glanced around. ‘No sign of the ghost, then?’
She meant Elijah Blackheart, Nessie realised, the ghost of an ill-fated highwayman who was said to roam the corridors of the sixteenth-century inn at night. Beside her, Amanda’s eyes
widened.
‘Not so far,’ Nessie said. ‘Although I’m not supposed to tell people that. Sam says ghosts are great for the B&B business.’
Brid shook her head. ‘The only spirits I like are the kind you drink.’
Nessie smiled. ‘Let me show you the room next door. The champagne is already on ice.’
‘Wow,’ Sam said when she stepped outside just after lunchtime and saw the plumed white horses and the flower-decked carriage in front of the Star and Sixpence.
‘This isn’t just the wedding of the year, it’s the wedding of the decade.’
The driver, dressed in a grey morning suit with an azure blue cravat, tipped his hat. ‘Good morning. Lovely day for it.’
Nessie smiled. ‘JoJo and her party will be down soon. Can I get you a drink while you wait?’
The driver shook his head. ‘I daren’t spill anything down this suit. More than my job’s worth.’
Sam grimaced in sympathy – the temperature was about to hit thirty degrees, too hot to go without liquids for long. She hoped he had a water bottle stashed somewhere to swig from once
he’d delivered the bride to St Mary’s. JoJo and Jamie planned to walk back through the village after the ceremony, greeting friends and neighbours who hadn’t been in the church as
they went, followed by their families and guests. It was a lovely tradition, Sam thought. She only hoped the ladies had thought to wear sensible shoes.
JoJo’s parents had arrived just before midday. While Mrs Smith had hurried upstairs to help her daughter dress, JoJo’s father had promptly ordered a large whiskey and had been joined
by a crowd of friends and well-wishers. Joss had been kept busy serving them until Tilly had arrived to take over, then he’d slipped over to the green to set up the beer and cider kegs
outside the marquee. Sam had watched him go, conscious that she still hadn’t found the time to talk to him about Will. It would have to keep now, everything would. She wasn’t about to
let anything jeopardise the smooth running of the wedding.
When JoJo appeared, both Sam and Nessie let out gasps of admiration. Her dress was brilliant white, fitted until it bloomed into a fishtail. A breathtakingly intricate lace bodice danced and
shimmered with sequins and tiny seed pearls, flowing up to cover her shoulders and arms. Her long blonde hair was swept up into an elegant arrangement of loosely pinned curls. She looked perfect,
as though she had stepped straight from the pages of a magazine.
Behind her, the bridesmaids wore the same azure blue as the carriage driver’s cravat. Mrs Smith came last, looking radiant in rose taffeta, carrying a hand-tied bouquet of peonies and
roses.
‘You look beautiful, JoJo,’ Mr Smith said, hurrying over to clasp his daughter’s hands. ‘You make an old man proud.’
‘Dad,’ JoJo said, smiling. ‘You’re not even sixty yet.’
Mr Smith took her hand and tucked it underneath the crook of his elbow. ‘I feel old today. It seems like only yesterday I was changing your nappy.’
JoJo laughed but Sam saw her exchange a misty-eyed look with her father. ‘The carriage is ready when you are,’ she said.
It took two trips – Mrs Smith and the bridesmaids in one, and JoJo and her
‘At one point I thought Sam might actually punch the plumber.’
Everyone laughed. ‘I doubt even Franny could have fixed it if she had,’ JoJo said. She crossed the room to stroke the curtains on the four-poster bed. ‘Just look at this
– Jamie’s going to have a hard job getting me out of it in the morning.’
‘I don’t suppose he’ll try too hard,’ Kate said with a wink. She glanced around. ‘No sign of the ghost, then?’
She meant Elijah Blackheart, Nessie realised, the ghost of an ill-fated highwayman who was said to roam the corridors of the sixteenth-century inn at night. Beside her, Amanda’s eyes
widened.
‘Not so far,’ Nessie said. ‘Although I’m not supposed to tell people that. Sam says ghosts are great for the B&B business.’
Brid shook her head. ‘The only spirits I like are the kind you drink.’
Nessie smiled. ‘Let me show you the room next door. The champagne is already on ice.’
‘Wow,’ Sam said when she stepped outside just after lunchtime and saw the plumed white horses and the flower-decked carriage in front of the Star and Sixpence.
‘This isn’t just the wedding of the year, it’s the wedding of the decade.’
The driver, dressed in a grey morning suit with an azure blue cravat, tipped his hat. ‘Good morning. Lovely day for it.’
Nessie smiled. ‘JoJo and her party will be down soon. Can I get you a drink while you wait?’
The driver shook his head. ‘I daren’t spill anything down this suit. More than my job’s worth.’
Sam grimaced in sympathy – the temperature was about to hit thirty degrees, too hot to go without liquids for long. She hoped he had a water bottle stashed somewhere to swig from once
he’d delivered the bride to St Mary’s. JoJo and Jamie planned to walk back through the village after the ceremony, greeting friends and neighbours who hadn’t been in the church as
they went, followed by their families and guests. It was a lovely tradition, Sam thought. She only hoped the ladies had thought to wear sensible shoes.
JoJo’s parents had arrived just before midday. While Mrs Smith had hurried upstairs to help her daughter dress, JoJo’s father had promptly ordered a large whiskey and had been joined
by a crowd of friends and well-wishers. Joss had been kept busy serving them until Tilly had arrived to take over, then he’d slipped over to the green to set up the beer and cider kegs
outside the marquee. Sam had watched him go, conscious that she still hadn’t found the time to talk to him about Will. It would have to keep now, everything would. She wasn’t about to
let anything jeopardise the smooth running of the wedding.
When JoJo appeared, both Sam and Nessie let out gasps of admiration. Her dress was brilliant white, fitted until it bloomed into a fishtail. A breathtakingly intricate lace bodice danced and
shimmered with sequins and tiny seed pearls, flowing up to cover her shoulders and arms. Her long blonde hair was swept up into an elegant arrangement of loosely pinned curls. She looked perfect,
as though she had stepped straight from the pages of a magazine.
Behind her, the bridesmaids wore the same azure blue as the carriage driver’s cravat. Mrs Smith came last, looking radiant in rose taffeta, carrying a hand-tied bouquet of peonies and
roses.
‘You look beautiful, JoJo,’ Mr Smith said, hurrying over to clasp his daughter’s hands. ‘You make an old man proud.’
‘Dad,’ JoJo said, smiling. ‘You’re not even sixty yet.’
Mr Smith took her hand and tucked it underneath the crook of his elbow. ‘I feel old today. It seems like only yesterday I was changing your nappy.’
JoJo laughed but Sam saw her exchange a misty-eyed look with her father. ‘The carriage is ready when you are,’ she said.
It took two trips – Mrs Smith and the bridesmaids in one, and JoJo and her
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