She fiddled with the cummerbund at her slim waist. ‘I wish you had agreed to be my matron of honour,’ she grumbled to her sister. ‘Were you worried that you’d steal all my thunder, that the attention would all be on my beautiful model sister, rather than on the bride herself?’
‘Ex-model,’ contradicted Amber immediately. ‘And no, I wasn’t. I mean it when I say that no one could take any attention away from you, Ursula, especially not today. You look beautiful and you are beautiful. And not just on the outside—you’re glowing within like someone has lit a fire in your belly!’ She mopped at her damp brow with a handkerchief.
‘And the reason I wouldn’t agree to be your matron of honour,’ she continued, ‘was because I suspected that I was pregnant when you asked me—and some instinct told me that I would feel lousy.’ She pulled a face. ‘And do I feel lousy! Oh-h-h!’ She clutched her stomach.
Ursula went over and stroked Amber’s hair back off her face, the way she had stroked it so many times when Amber had been little and their mother had been sick. ‘Better?’ she asked gently.
‘Much.’
‘Finn must be ecstatic,’ murmured Ursula.
‘Ecstatic isn’t the word for it—I virtually had to grapple with him to stop him going out and buying the entire stock of baby clothes from every department store within a five-mile radius!’ Her face became consumed with tenderness. ‘Though I guess that isn’t really surprising. His illness made him radically rethink his life. At one time he never thought he’d live to see a child of his own born. And now he will,’ she finished, on a note of contentment.
Ursula grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the corner of one eye. ‘Stop it,’ she gulped. ‘I’m emotional enough, and I’m supposed to be getting married in a minute!’
Amber smiled. ‘Where’s Katy?’
‘She wanted to go and wait at the church with her daddy.’
‘Not very traditional,’ observed Amber.
But Ursula had witnessed enough of the important things in life—pain and joy and loss—to shrug her shoulders lightly. ‘Oh, who cares about tradition?’ She laughed.
‘And how are things with Jane now?’ Amber asked carefully.
Ursula gave her dress one final tweak. Even things with Jane seemed to have worked out to an acceptable compromise. She had written Ross and Ursula a long letter when she had returned to Australia, apologising for the distress she had caused them, and for the unkind things she had said to Ursula. She had added:
I realise that there is no excuse for the way I behaved, but a contributory factor might be that I was newly pregnant with Julian’s child, and the doctor told me that the dramatic hormonal changes often make women emotionally unstable.
‘Interesting argument,’ Ross had commented drily. Jane had ended the letter with the words:
This time, I’ve vowed I’m going to be a better mother. I am very, very happy now, and so is Julian—and I hope that both of you are, too.
‘That’s kind of her.’ Ursula had beamed, while Ross had thrown her an adoring look.
‘You’re the kind one, sweetheart. Too kind.’
It had been agreed that, each year, Katy would fly out to Australia to spend several weeks with her mother during the summer holidays, and that Jane would see Katy in England or in Europe whenever Julian was touring...
‘Shall I help you on with your cloak now?’ asked Amber. ‘We’re due at the church in ten minutes. And Finn’s pacing the floor downstairs, waiting to give you away.’
Ursula nodded as her sister helped slip the hooded cloak on over her shoulders. It had been made by Holly Lovelace, from the same fine ivory silk as the wedding dress. As Holly had said, ‘There’s nothing worse than a shivering bride at a winter wedding!’ And Holly knew that better than anyone—somehow she managed to combine being a brilliant wife and mother with her career as one of the hottest wedding dress designers in the country!
‘Ready?’ asked Amber softly.
The two women stared at one another, recognising another watershed in their lives. They had each found their mate—a man each would love until death separated them, and maybe beyond that, too. But no matter what—no matter if geography or commitments kept the two sisters apart—the bond between them would never be broken.
‘Ready.’ Ursula nodded and held her arms out. ‘But I need a hug first.’
‘Careful of the dress!’ choked Amber as she put her arms round her big sister. ‘We don’t want to crease it!’
Ursula and Ross had debated whether or not to hold the wedding in Ireland—in the same church where Amber had married Finn—so that vast numbers of the O’Neil clan could attend. But in the end they had let Katy decide, and she had chosen Hampstead, in the little church just around the corner from where they lived, where Ursula and Ross had started taking her most Sundays.
And most of the O‘Neils were attending anyway! They had flown over on a cheap block booking from Dublin Airport along with Alan Bollier, the owner of The Black Bollier Hotel, where Amber and Finn had held their wedding reception. As Dermot—one of the O’Neil cousins—had explained to Ursula, ‘Sure, and we wouldn’t miss the crack of a good wedding—not for the world!’
The church was bursting at the seams. Near the back ‘in case the baby starts screaming!’ sat Luke and Holly Goodwin, with Lizzie, their baby daughter.
Oliver Blackman, Ross’s partner, stood near the front—which was fortunate. It meant that every single female in the congregation didn’t have to crane her neck in order to ogle him!
And Katy was waiting for her at the church door, in her ivory silk bridesmaid’s dress—a miniature, adapted version of Ursula’s dress, made especially by Holly.
‘Nervous?’ whispered Ursula.
Katy shook her head. ‘No. Are you?’
‘A bit—but I’m enjoying the feeling!’
Amber slipped into her seat as Ursula put her arm through Finn’s and stood at the back of the church. They had asked the organist to play ‘Danny Boy’ as Ursula walked up the aisle, and there was a great deal of snuffling and digging around in handbags for tissues as the familiar music began.
And then Dermot O’Neil began to sing, and slowly everyone else in the congregation joined in with words so full of hope and sorrow that they hit you straight in the heart.
As the voices began to swell around the church, Ursula was caught up in a daze of emotion as Ross turned round to watch her walk slowly towards him, his eyes as bright with tears as hers were. And when she reached him she turned to hand Katy her muff and her prayer book as the beautifully mournful words of the song died away.
And thank God it was only a short aisle, thought Ursula—for if they’d had time to sing the second verse the whole congregation would have been inconsolable!
The song was especially for her mother, who had bought the dress which had now been worn by three women. She wondered whether Lizzie Goodwin would wear it one day. And Katy. And Amber’s baby, too—if it was a girl. And maybe she and Ross would have another daughter...
Clutching tightly onto Ross’s hand as the priest cleared his throat, Ursula prepared to make her marriage vows.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5175-5
ONE HUSBAND REQUIRED!
First North American Publication 1999.
Copyright © 1999 by Sharon Kendrick.
All rights reserved Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents a
re pure invention.
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One Husband Required! Page 17
