Reverently she unzipped the special bag that had travelled with its own airline seat. Averting her gaze, she put the dress on the special ivory silk hanger she had bought solely for this purpose and hung it on the outside of the huge mirrored armoire, with its inlays of painted nymphs and shepherds, where Nicky could gaze at it as she sipped her champagne.

Meredith looked at her watch and surveyed the drive that led from the château to the main road. ‘When the hell is Ronnie coming?’ she enquired irritably, as if Ronnie were one of her employees who dared to be late for a meeting. Not something that happened often, Jo suspected.

‘I’ve tried to ring her about three times, but it just goes to voicemail.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘I even tried Steph in case she’d gone there, but Steph says to relax, this is pure Ronnie. Creating unnecessary tension is her speciality. Everything else is fine, though,’ she added reassuringly. ‘Bill and Maureen, dad and stepmum, have just arrived and are installed in the West Tower. Jean-Christophe is busy taking deliveries. The bridesmaids and Nicky’s sister Lara are giggling after their third Prosecco – I couldn’t stop them, since they brought their own.’

‘Oh well, bridesmaids will be bridesmaids,’ Meredith shrugged. ‘They’re going to have a nasty hangover, though.’

‘I’ve tactfully left paracetamol and rehydration salts on the tray with the tea and coffee.’

‘Sophie,’ Jo marvelled. ‘You’re amazing, the way you think of everything!’

‘Oh, and the gran rang,’ Sophie continued. ‘She’s made it to Bratenac, thank the Lord, and has just stopped to pick something up.’ Sophie consulted her list. ‘OK, once we locate the tension-creating Ronnie, we are on schedule.’

‘Mademoiselle Sophie!’ an anguished voice interrupted. ‘I cannot have all these flowers in my pantry! The supplies are all arriving and I need to put them there!’ It was Jean-Christophe.

‘Of course, Jean-Christophe. Come on, ladies, time to put a shoulder to the wheel. We need to put the vases of flowers in the dungeon. Nice and cool down there. And maybe the White Lady will appear and help with the flower arranging.’

Meredith looked shocked at the idea that she might have to do some physical labour, even of such a ladylike kind. But as Sophie was managing the occasion so effectively, she decided to comply without demur.

‘Is there light down there?’

‘God, yes. It’s like Versailles,’ Sophie grinned. ‘Anyone who fancied a bit of medieval torture would certainly be able to see what they were doing.’

They had just finished putting the flowers in the dungeon when Sophie heard a hubbub of raised voices above them. It sounded as if Jean-Christophe had been pulled away from the kitchen again and didn’t appreciate it.