Dante made the simple vows with such passionate sincerity Rose had to fight against tears as she responded, hardly able to believe this was really happening at last as Dante drew his bride’s hand through his arm afterwards to walk past the rows of smiling guests.
‘Who is the fair man with Leo and Harriet?’ asked Rose.
‘Pascal Tavernier, my cousin’s husband. Rosa is not here, much to her wrath, because she is about to give birth. Her absence will save much confusion. She is only distantly related to Harriet, but so strongly resembles her she could be her twin.’
‘She must be very beautiful then,’ said Rose.
‘Certo, but not as beautiful as my wife,’ said Dante in a tone which transformed Rose into the quintessential blushing bride as their daughter came running to join them in a flurry of organdie frills, the chaplet of flowers still miraculously anchored to her curls as she linked hands with her parents and beamed for the photographers.
Among the festive gold and silver balloons in the Hermitage ballroom, Rose could hardly believe this was happening as she stood with Dante to receive their guests in almost exactly the same places they’d occupied years before at Charlotte’s wedding. Something Charlotte was quick to point out while Grace and Tom, and then Maria and Lorenzo Fortinari hugged and kissed the bride and groom.
‘I am so happy,’ said Maria, dabbing carefully at her eyes. ‘You look so lovely, Rose—and so does our little angel.’ She bent to kiss Bea. ‘That is such a beautiful dress, bella.’
‘I choosed it myself,’ said Bea happily, and tugged on Grace’s hand. ‘This is my gramma, Nonna.’
Maria kissed Grace, and then smiled up at Tom and kissed him, too. ‘Now we are all family, tesoro,’ she informed her granddaughter.
After so much hugging and kissing, Rose left her daughter with her two grandmothers and went off with Harriet and Charlotte before the meal to make repairs.
‘That’s a very clever dress,’ said Harriet as Rose straightened the folds of chiffon.
‘More clever than you know,’ said Charlotte. ‘It’s a replica of the one she wore as my bridesmaid. How on earth did you find it, love?’
Rose smiled. ‘I was lucky enough to find the right shade of fabric and a dressmaker willing to copy the dress in the photograph.’
‘From his reaction when he saw you, Dante believes he’s the lucky one,’ said Harriet.
‘That’s because I come part of a package with our daughter,’ said Rose, smiling as Allegra Mostyn put her pretty freckled face round the door.
‘Get a move on, Signora Fortinari—the bride, not you, Harriet. Dante’s getting impatient out there.’
‘Coming,’ said Rose, surprised as Harriet gave her a fierce hug.
‘You are so wrong, Rose. Make no mistake, Dante’s in seventh heaven because he’s finally got you. So off you go, sister-in-law. A wedding day goes by fast—enjoy every minute of it while you can!’
Charlotte smiled triumphantly. ‘And today you’re the bride, not the bridesmaid.’
Still finding this part hard to believe, Rose held out her arms as Grace joined them to kiss her daughter tenderly, her eyes bright with unshed tears beneath the spectacular hat Tom had bought for her. ‘Are you enjoying your day, my darling?’