“Excellent.”
“The plans are in place for the Christmas Eve service at the chapel. The décor will consist of poinsettias and white candles along with the traditional nativity set.”
December twenty-fourth was the only time the small church, located on the castle grounds, was used. Sophie had wanted to get married there, but their mother’s response had been a resounding no. She’d used the reason of the wedding being on the twenty-third, not Christmas Eve, but both Gill and Sophie knew that was an excuse. The queen wanted the wedding to be a public spectacle, not an intimate family affair.
“Thank you.” Gill disconnected from the call.
A new song played. He checked his watch. Laughed.
A good thing he’d sent Claude inside to find Sophie or they’d be even later for her appointment.
Not unexpected.
He couldn’t remember when she’d ever been on time. She’d been born a week past her due date.
Poor Bertrand.
Gill had no doubt Sophie would be late for her wedding. Gill’s job, as one of the groomsman, would be to keep Bertrand from panicking when his bride didn’t arrive as expected. The only question was how late would she be?
Maybe they should place bets.
The passenger door opened. Sophie climbed in, and Kat followed. The two women sat on the back bench together. Both were bundled in thick coats, hats, and gloves.
Sophie blew him a kiss. “Good morning, dear brother.”
The circles under Kat’s eyes were lighter. He couldn’t tell if that was due to sleep or makeup, but her face had more color.
Claude got into the driver’s seat and drove toward the gate.
He looked at his sister. “You’re late.”
“It couldn’t be helped.” Sophie glanced at her cell phone and frowned. “I would have been on time, early even, except I forgot the mistletoe.”
An excuse if he ever heard one. “Mistletoe?”
“To hang at the wedding ball and dinner.” She flashed him a don’t-you-know-anything look—the kind younger sisters knew how to do instinctively from the age of two. “You can’t have a Christmas-themed event without it.”
“Call the wedding planner.” He’d forgotten the latest one’s name.
Working with his mother wasn’t easy, but he felt sorry for the women having to deal with both the queen and the Duchess of Darbyton. Their demands had led to a revolving door of wedding planners. Only one—the first—had been fired. The rest had quit. He hoped this new one lasted until Sophie’s wedding day.
“Talia is speaking with the florist today to make a mistletoe plan.”
Talia. That was the name he’d forgotten. “You need a mistletoe plan?”
“Mistletoe is important,” Kat said.
She would think so. “Funny how people think kissing under mistletoe is romantic when the plant is not only poisonous, but also deadly. Certain types can kill you.”
Sophie made another face at him. “No one will be ingesting the mistletoe.”
“Just kissing under it,” Kat agreed.
Nodding, Sophie touched her friend’s arm. “I’m going to find you the most scrumptious man to kiss at the wedding ball.”
Kat must have asked Sophie for help. He would put an end to it. “Sorry, but I pass.”
“I said scrumptious, not beastly,” Sophie teased.
