Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for A Season for Second Chances
- Also by Jenny Bayliss
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discussion Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
It came time for any guests who weren’t actually in the wedding to take their places in the orangery. Jenna had stopped swearing the moment her parents arrived, to the relief of all the parents and the disappointment of the children—they had most enjoyed listening to the potty-mouth bride and no doubt learned some excellent swears to take back to school in the new year. Dev had come to escort Ameerah to the rest of the wedding party.
“Do you want to come with us?” Ameerah asked.
“No, you go on, I’ve forgotten my phone. My mum will kill me if I don’t send her pictures of the wedding.”
“Isn’t there an embargo on sharing photos before the magazine releases them, in case they end up on social media?” asked Dev.
“I dare you to tell my mum I can’t show her any photos of the wedding,” Nory replied wryly.
“We’ll save you both a seat,” called Ameerah as she and Dev clip-clopped across the entrance hall in Christian Louboutin stilettos and Savile Row derby shoes, respectively.
Nory headed back into her bedroom and found her phone beneath a damp hair towel. She noted four missed calls from her mum already and quickly switched her phone to silent just in case. She threw a fur-lined wrap around her shoulders and checked herself in the mirror. Her dress was 1950s-style: red velvet, with a sweetheart neckline, fitted to the waist and flaring into a full skirt. She never could stand up in high heels, so she teamed the outfit with a pair of black patent Mary Jane shoes. It suddenly occurred to her that with the cream furry wrap, she looked a bit like Mrs. Claus. She applied another layer of red lipstick and hoped nobody else would think the same thing.
After the constant noise all morning, the castle now felt eerily quiet. As she made her way down the staircase the front door opened, and Isaac walked in. Nory gave a little gasp as she took him in. She was used to rugged, working Isaac. This was polished, sexy suit Isaac, and he wore it well.
“Hello. You look delicious.” Isaac grinned up at her.
Oh, be still my beating heart!
“You look rather edible yourself. Are you here on Her Majesty’s secret service?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. The word in MI5 is that there’s a woman impersonating Mrs. Claus on the loose.” He arched an eyebrow.
Bollocks!
Thirty-one
The wedding was beautiful. Jenna looked absolutely stunning in a Vera Wang gown, and Charles looked as though he couldn’t believe he was so lucky. Nory squashed the Austenesque heroine inside her chest who sighed as she imagined herself getting married one day. That was the thing about weddings: Those who were already married, reminisced (or perhaps lamented), and those who had never been, fantasized.