Peter was standing rather nervously at the foot of the steps leading to the choir stalls and altar, the vicar murmuring quiet words of encouragement. The enormous and moustachioed best man seemed quite calm and sober, and Peggy breathed a sigh of relief. She’d yet to meet this Polish baron, but had heard enough about him to know he enjoyed a drink and could be the life and soul of the party, but it seemed he was on his best behaviour today.

She went to give Peter a peck on the cheek, assured him that his bride was on her way, and was introduced to Stanislaw, who bowed over her hand and kissed it.

‘It is always a great pleasure to meet a beautiful woman, Mrs Reilly,’ he murmured, his mesmerising gaze making her go weak at the knees. ‘I hope you will do me the honour of talking with me later.’

Peggy nodded, then snapped out of her trance and retrieved her hand before quickly sitting down next to Cordelia. ‘Whew,’ she breathed, reaching for the order of service card to fan her hot face.

‘He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?’ giggled Cordelia. ‘My goodness, if I was three decades younger, I’d certainly give him a run for his money.’

‘I have no doubt of it,’ replied Peggy distractedly. ‘No woman’s safe with him around.’

‘Stanislaw and I have a lot in common, so we do,’ rumbled Ron, wriggling his eyebrows. ‘To be sure I know how hard it is to be so attractive to women.’

Cordelia snorted. ‘Only in your dreams, you deluded old rogue,’ she retorted, swiping his arm with a gloved hand.

Their exchange was halted by the sound of the church door creaking open, and as the vicar nodded to Mary and Fran, the music soared to the rafters to welcome the bride.

There were soft gasps of delight, surprise and admiration as Rita slowly walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. The silver embroidery on the hem of her dress and the tiny butterflies on her shoes shimmered with every step. Her veil couldn’t quite dim the sparkle of the tiara, and her necklace and earrings caught the light from the windows and shot reflected fire around her like a halo, until it was as if she’d come from another world entirely and was being carried to Peter on a sunbeam.

Peggy could hear Cordelia sniffling beside her and she had to blink back her own tears as she shot a quick glance at Peter. The young Australian was clearly stunned, his gaze fixed in awe on this ethereal beauty approaching him.

Peggy lost her battle with her tears as the three little girls held hands and followed Rita and Jack towards the altar. They looked so endearingly sweet that she wanted to snatch them up and kiss them. But she managed to restrain herself, and mopped up her tears as Ivy brought up the rear and shot her a wink.

Rita had reached the steps and, having squeezed her father’s arm in love and thanks, took Peter’s hand and gazed up at him. He bent to whisper something in her ear and she giggled before turning her attention to what the vicar was muttering to them.