Finula was in the carriage along with Megan’s dad, waving and smiling at the crowd. She was quite enjoying the attention, unlike Mr Taylor, who looked rather startled and uncomfortable.
Finula had woken in a similar mood to the bride, composed. When she had walked down the stairs of the pub her dad had clapped her. ‘You look amazing, Finula,’ he bellowed with pride. Megan’s mum, dad and brother all agreed, as they sat at a nearby table. She did indeed look amazing in her bridesmaid dress, a bronze, chiffon number. It was sleeveless, with one shoulder, and its soft pleats ran down her figure and rested on the ankle. She turned to the side at hearing a wolf whistle. Marcus was sitting at a table eating breakfast. He had his camera with him.
‘Mind if I take a picture?’ He directed the question to Dermot, which made Finula smile to herself.
‘Be my guest,’ replied Dermot.
Marcus got up from the table and stood in front of her. She could feel herself blushing again. ‘There we go,’ he spoke from behind the lens, ‘and another for good measure.’ He clicked the button, sending flashes across the room. ‘All done,’ he smiled. Finula lowered her eyes.
‘Dylan’s here!’ called Dermot. Finula quickly went to the door to meet him. Dylan was looking immaculate in his riding suit. Finula squinted to read the sign on the back of the carriage, expecting it to say, ‘Getting Married’. It didn’t. It read, ‘Delany’s Racing Yard’. Finula pointed to it and started to giggle.
‘Shush,’ hissed Dylan, ‘Tobias will kill me.’ Well, he couldn’t miss this opportunity, could he? Megan’s dad hopped into the carriage next to Finula, looking terribly self-conscious. His wife and son stood by, waving and laughing.
‘Let’s go!’ Dylan threw over his shoulder, and cracked his whip, forcing the two of them forward. Finula was astonished at the number of people lining the pathways. At last Dylan turned the carriage into Megan’s lane and gently drew the horses to a halt outside Bluebell Cottage. There she was, looking as radiant as expected. Megan’s dad climbed down to walk his daughter up the garden path and into the carriage. Flashes, cheers and applause came from the gathered spectators, and Megan gave them a captivating smile.
‘Megan, you look beautiful,’ her dad whispered, barely containing his pride.
Soon Dylan had driven the carriage through the village to arrive at Treweham Hall. Security men stood at each side of the huge, cast-iron gates, ready to lock them shut once the carriage was inside. Once they were secured, everybody gave a sigh of relief.
Dylan turned to his passengers.
‘Now let the wedding begin.’ He stepped down from the driver’s seat and was quickly joined by Flora, who helped him steady the horses.
‘How did they do?’ she asked Dylan.
‘Well, Megan and Finula are fine, but the father’s terrified.’
‘I meant the horses,’ laughed Flora.
Dylan shook his head. ‘Ever the horsewoman, eh?’ he laughed, and kissed her full on the mouth. Unbeknown to him, a reporter who was still hanging around the gates cheekily snapped them with his camera. Once Dylan and Flora had handed the horses over to the grooms, they sped into the Hall and made for the chapel, leaving Finula to fuss and make sure Megan’s dress was in place. Then, with Megan’s father leading his daughter, they slowly walked down the marble-floored hallway, up the sweeping staircase, and along the corridor to the chapel entrance. Organ music was playing and the chapel was full of scented lilies. Shafts of sunlight illuminated the stained-glass windows.
Megan saw the back of Tobias, standing next to Seamus on the front row. Her chest started to pound. Seamus turned and gave her a grin. He whispered something in Tobias’ ear. Sebastian turned round, too, and blew her a kiss, causing ripples of laughter. Ever the showman, thought Megan with affection.
Gradually she and her father walked down the aisle to meet Tobias. He finally faced her and his heart missed a beat. My God, was there ever a more stunning bride? His green eyes blazed with passion as they locked with Megan’s like radar.
The ceremony was both emotional and joyful. Sebastian gave a reading of the Wedding at Cana and afterwards made an anecdote of the wine never running out at Treweham Hall, causing more titters from the congregation. Once the priest had announced them man and wife, a huge applause sounded from the pews and the chapel bell chimed.
Walking back down the aisle, arm in arm with his bride, Tobias bent his head and whispered, ‘Love you, Lady Cavendish-Blake.’ Megan looked into his handsome face and smiled. Never had she been so happy.
Finally relaxing, everyone made their way for champagne on the lawn. The very last of the summer’s rays decided to shine and the air was filled with the clinking of glasses, laughter and a string quartet playing quietly in the background. Dylan and Flora, both relieved the horses had behaved themselves without dumping manure anywhere, glugged back the champagne thankfully.
‘Have I told you how pretty you look today, Flora?’ he asked, lazily looking her up and down. He could pick her up and roger her senseless in the stables right now, given the chance.
‘You scrub up well yourself, Dylan,’ she chipped back with a wink.
‘Celia, isn’t that the famous jockey?’ murmured Wilfrid, who was totally starstruck with the whole affair. As soon as he had stepped foot inside Treweham Hall he couldn’t take it all in. The place was splendid, all had made him welcome and Celia was as formidable as he remembered.
‘Yes. Dylan Delany. An insufferable rogue,’ answered Celia directly.
Finula was chatting to Gary and Tracy. ‘Love that dress, Tracy,’ she complimented. Gary gave a snort. Tracy nudged him hard.
‘Thanks, Fin,’ she quickly smoothed over.
‘I had something very similar once.’ Finula cocked her head to one side, sizing it up.
Ted was there, in his best suit, sitting with Megan’s mum and brother. They were all deep in conversation. Megan looked on and smiled. She was going to invite Chris to stay in Bluebell Cottage, and really give him chance to get to know Ted. Plus she’d missed having her brother around. Kate seemed to be getting along with him nicely, she noticed.
‘They’ve a lot of catching up to do,’ Tobias remarked, handing her a glass of champagne. ‘To us,’ he toasted, raising his glass.
