The music changed as Kirsty fought to take in all the details. The room was decorated with thousands of fairy lights. Through the huge windows she could see the snow sparkle under trees filled with the same lights. Jars with candles lit up the patio outside the room. More jars with candles were dotted around inside, making the place glow.
It was fairyland.
At the front, in the corner of the room, Josh stood dressed in a suit, singing for them. At the end of the aisle, the aging vicar waited. He stood in front of large planters filled with bare branches wrapped in yet more fairy lights.
Kirsty sucked in a breath as Caroline started walking down the aisle followed by Rainne. She watched as her bridesmaids reached the bottom and took up positions to the left of the vicar. And then a figure stepped out from behind the crowd to stand at the end of the aisle. Everything else in the room faded away. Kirsty could only see Lake. And he was gorgeous. He was dressed in traditional Scottish garb, complete with a purple and green Campbell tartan kilt. His broad shoulders were mouth-watering in his tailored black jacket. He was perfect. And he was hers.
“I’ll go sit down. Love you, honey,” her mum said.
“No.” Kirsty hooked their arms together. “You need to walk me down the aisle.”
With a wide smile and tear-stained cheeks, her mother held her head high and accompanied her daughter.
Kirsty couldn’t keep her eyes from the stunning man who waited for her to get to him. His luminous blue eyes glowed with warmth and love as she walked towards him. The closer she got to him the darker his gaze became, making promises he would definitely be keeping later.
“I’m in a skirt for you,” he told her as he reached for her hand.
“It’s only fair,” she said. “I’m in a skirt for you.”
“You won’t be in it long.” His grin was filled with lascivious intent.
“Lake!” Her mother smacked his arm and everyone burst out laughing.
Red-faced, she gave the crowd a finger wave, kissed both Kirsty and Lake on the cheek, then took her place in the front row beside her friends from Knit Or Die.
“If we hurry up we’ll still be married on Leap Day,” Lake said.
Kirsty started to smile until her eyes hit Lake’s best man. Betty McLeod grinned widely. This time at least she’d remembered her teeth. Instead of her usual tartan tent, she was wearing a tent made out England’s flag. The red and white of the St. George’s crosses made Kirsty’s jaw drop.
“That isn’t purple. It isn’t even pretty. I made you a Campbell tartan tent to wear.”
Lake started to laugh, then worked hard to smother it.
“I couldn’t wear it,” Betty said. “I’m a McLeod. Not a Campbell.”
Kirsty pointed at the dress. “You’re not English either.”
Betty huffed. “This is in honour of Lake. I think of the Englishman as the son I didn’t have.”
“And I think of her as the mother I don’t want,” Lake said.
Then, to Kirsty’s disgust, Betty and Lake did a fist bump.
“Can we get on with this?” the vicar said. “I’m usually in bed by nine. I’m so knackered I can hardly stand.” He made a big production of looking at his watch. “It’s quarter past eleven. You’ve got forty-five minutes before this Leap Day is over. You can spend it tying the knot, or you can spend it arguing with Betty. I’ll be over at the food. Let me know what you decide.”
He took a step towards the buffet, and Lake’s hand shot out to stop him.
“Vows. Now,” was all he said.
The vicar grumped, pushed his bifocals up his nose and took a deep breath.
“Dearly beloved, and Betty. We are gathered here today, in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman. If anyone has any objections, let’s hear them.”
Kirsty held her breath and waited, even though she knew no one could possibly object. When Betty made a big production of clearing her throat, Kirsty shot her a glare.
“Okay,” Reverend Morrison said, “Lake Benson, do you take Kirsty Campbell to have and to hold from this day forward, until death do you part?”
Lake stared at the minister. “Isn’t there more to it? I think you missed a part.”