Page 90 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘And you worked magic to make it all happen,’ Lily replied earnestly.

Remembering Andreas using the same word, Sophie bit her lip against fresh tears. ‘Don’t start. I’m already emotional.’

‘It’s a wedding. We’re allowed to be emotional, right?’ Lily gripped her hand tightly. Leaning close, she whispered, ‘If it’s a girl, we’re going to call her Sophie.’

There was no more resistance. Sophie’s hand clapped over her mouth to muffle a sob as tears made tracks through the dust on her cheeks. ‘I would give you a hug, but I’m filthy and we just got you all dressed up for your wedding.’

‘But if it’s a boy,’ she hesitated, ‘we both thought Andreas doesn’t really work in England.’

Sophie snorted a laugh. ‘I’m sure one Andreas is enough.’

‘Did you really think he didn’t love you?’ Lily asked with an amused smile. ‘Ever since we met him, he’s stared after you with these burning looks. It makes sense now I know you have so much history.’

‘Sometimes, you know something with your heart before you accept it with your head. That, and he’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.’ After giving the bride one last critical once-over, she stepped back. ‘Right, give me a minute to fix myself and then let’s do this summit wedding!’

35

‘They’re waiting for you.’

At those words from Adelaide and with one last squeeze of her hand, Sophie left Lily with her mother and her bridesmaids and picked her way over the rocks to the clearing in front of the summit cross. Taking a moment to admire the decorative ironwork, she pressed her hand to the slender cross, rapidly drying in the sun. She drew in a deep breath of moist, pine-scented air, clear and cool at 1,000 metres above the lake.

It was a beautiful place for a wedding.

Turning to face the rest of the party, her eyes immediately settled on Andreas, standing back with his hands on his hips, returning her gaze with half a smile. Kira stood next to him, her arms crossed, her expression less than impressed as she took in the tableau of the giddy groom with his white rose buttonhole and the groomsmen, who’d hastily slung silver ties around their necks.

Roman even wore a blue silk pocket square in his grey collared shirt, embroidered with gold patterns as a nod to the wedding traditions of Lily’s Vietnamese heritage.

Ignoring Kira’s doubtful look, Sophie retrieved her tablet from her rucksack, already in its formal case for the ceremony, tucked the rings into the leather pocket designed for the purpose and straightened her shoulders. Andreas approached, giving Roman a pat on the shoulder as he did so, then drew Sophie aside for a light kiss.

‘I have lipstick on,’ she whispered, ‘and now is really not the time for us to draw attention to ourselves.’

‘I just wanted to say you look lovely as a marriage celebrant. Radiant, even.’

She scowled half-heartedly at him. ‘If you think you’re getting some credit for that?—’

He cut her off with another kiss. ‘I hope so. Making you look radiant is my new purpose in life.’

‘Go and stand at the back,’ she hissed, giving him a gentle push. ‘And remind Kira to smile.’

He grinned. ‘Kira doesn’t smile on demand. She’ll be a tougher nut to crack when it comes to weddings.’

She studied him. ‘You’ve cracked? You don’t mind weddings any more?’

‘As long as you’re in them,’ he quipped, giving her a wink as he made his way to the back of the group.

When Mrs Tran scrambled over the rocks a moment later, all of the groomsmen stood at attention. The photographer raised her camera. The wedding party held their breaths.

There was no wedding march played jauntily on the organ, no measured steps up the aisle or chaotic children throwing flower petals. But there was a grinning bride in a wreath of white flowers and a lace veil – and a pair of muddy hiking boots. She bounded over the rocks and came to a stop facing Roman.

‘I’m the luckiest man alive,’ Roman blurted out, sending titters of amusement through the wedding guests, with a distinct snort from up the back, which Sophie pointedly ignored.

‘Are those for me?’ Lily asked, gesturing to the simple bouquet of three pale pink lilies Roman was holding.

He thrust them at her with a shaking hand. ‘Yes. Three,’ he said softly. ‘I love you.’

Sophie pulled herself together to intervene before the tears got out of hand. ‘Are you ready?’ It wasn’t quite in the script, but after everything they’d been through that day, she thought it best to ditch the formal greeting.

‘Yes,’ they said at the same moment, shooting each other a grin.

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