‘Are you okay?’ Lucy whispered, as Juliet bit her bottom lip, feeling those emotions swirling up all over again. ‘I haven’t seen you like this for years. Not since that time we went to see Mary Poppins at the theatre, and you were wailing like a banshee.’ Lucy grinned. ‘Of course that time you were pregnant, so you had an excuse … ’ Her voice trailed off.
Their eyes met, both wide and shocked. Juliet found herself touching her stomach with her hand. It was as flat as ever – or as flat as it could be after having a child. No, she couldn’t be, could she?
They’d been careful. They really had.
The door behind them opened – the one that led to the bathrooms – and Poppy ran in, sounding out of breath. ‘You’re not leaving without me are you?’ she asked, having to force her way past a chair and a table, her pink dress knocking everything out of her way.
She was a tour-de-force. One of a kind. Surely there couldn’t be one more of her?
And really, Juliet meant that in the nicest way.
The vicar looked completely unperturbed by Poppy’s entrance. The smile was still plastered to his face. ‘So we’ll do it just as we rehearsed. I’ll walk in first, then Poppy will come in and lay the petals down as she walks. Then Cesca will follow, and her bridesmaids will be at the back.’ He looked at them, nodding. ‘In age order.’
Okay, so they might have squabbled a bit over who was walking at the front. Old habits died hard.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked Cesca again.
She nodded, her face resolute. ‘I’m ready.’
Lucy took one last glance at Juliet, concern on her face. ‘We’ll talk later,’ she mouthed. Juliet wasn’t sure if that was a threat or not. She was sure that she wasn’t ready to talk, even if there was anything to talk about.
Which there wasn’t. Because there couldn’t be.
They followed the vicar out of the small dressing room and into the main lobby of the chapel. Even though they’d tried to keep the wedding under wraps, there was still a sizeable crowed outside, Sam’s fans mostly, desperate for a glimpse of the famous actor, and Cesca’s soon-to-be-husband. The low murmur of conversation from outside the chapel was matched with the noises coming from inside the double doors. The chapel only seated eighty, the guests had been hand-picked by Cesca and Sam. Juliet felt like she was at a royal wedding.
And then the vicar was pushing open the doors, and the big church organ burst into life, piping out the wedding march as they made their way down the aisle, Poppy clearly in her element as she sprinkled rose petals ahead of Cesca and her sisters.
Just as Juliet had imagined, the pews were almost bursting with people. Famous actors and directors sat amongst Cesca and Sam’s family and friends, all turning to look at the radiant bride. At the front, on two reserved seats, sat her father and Cesca’s godfather, their weathered faces beaming back at them. Not having her father walk her up the aisle had been a source of disappointment to Cesca, but at least he was here, and well enough to watch her get married.
In the row behind them were more familiar faces. Lachlan, Lucy’s boyfriend, sat next to Adam, Kitty’s fiancé. And then there was the man that set Juliet’s world on fire. The man that stole her breath away and gave her life at the same time.
Ryan was looking straight at her, his hand resting lightly on Charlie’s shoulder as they watched her approach. His eyes were soft, appraising, and there was a smile on his face. Juliet licked her dry lips, trying to keep her face straight, and not crumple all over again into the mess of emotion she’d been all day.
Could she really be pregnant? She thought back over the past few months. Yes, they’d been having a crazy amount of sex, but they’d taken precautions. They’d been careful.
The same way she’d been careful before she had Poppy. The same way Ryan had been careful before Charlie.
Oh God, they were clearly crazily fertile. Together they were like a time bomb waiting to happen.
She really needed to take a pregnancy test.
They’d come to the front of the church, and Sam stepped forward to take Cesca’s hands in his, grinning from ear to ear. He looked like a man who’d just won the lottery, and wanted everybody to know it. And as he reached out to cup Cesca’s face, love shining from his face as he whispered something in her sister’s ear, Juliet couldn’t help but feel the emotions welling up inside her all over again.
And yes, of course she started to cry.
There was something wrong with Juliet. Ryan had sensed it as soon as the doors had opened and the vicar had walked into the chapel, followed by Poppy, her aunts, and of course Juliet. He didn’t think it had anything to do with Poppy – she was as ebullient as ever, twirling around and showing off to Charlie, before dragging him onto the dance floor whether he wanted to dance or not.
Juliet, however, was quiet. Deadly quiet. She’d barely said anything during the sit-down meal in the main hall at Glencarraig lodge, and then after the speeches were over she’d practically run to the bathroom, her sister Lucy following close behind, leaving Lachlan and Ryan to prop themselves up at the bar.
‘I like your place,’ Ryan said, lifting the pint of beer to his lips. He raised his eyebrows as he looked around the room. This place was more of a castle than a lodge, the expansive hall decorated with huge tapestries depicting scenes from Scottish history, the space easily accommodating the hundreds of guests Cesca and Sam had invited to their reception.
‘Thanks.’ Lachlan lifted his glass up to Ryan. ‘But it’s not really mine. I own less than half of it.’ He took a mouthful of warm beer. ‘Jesus, I still can’t get used to the taste of this stuff.’
From the moment they’d been introduced, Ryan had liked Lachlan. They were of a similar age, both Americans, both successful. And of course, they had the Shakespeare sisters in common.
Which made them the luckiest men he knew.
‘I was half expecting us to have haggis for dinner,’ Ryan said, drinking his beer in spite of the taste. ‘Not that I was disappointed, the steak was amazing.’