“Yes, I think we’ll do.” Brendon snapped down the pink satin waistcoat he wore beneath his morning suit. He then straightened the rose buttonhole. He looked good and he knew it. He even twirled around to check out his bum in the neat black trousers he wore, flicking up the tails of his morning coat to be sure.

“But we really should get going,” Georgie said, again worrying about the time. “I know it’s only a few minutes to the church from here but still, it’s only ten minutes until the ceremony is due to start.”

“Really?” Megan glanced at the clock that sat on the bedside table. Georgie was right. It was time to go.

It was time to go and get married.

And become Mrs Dunkin-Buckshaw.

Forever.

Her stomach clenched, the corset seeming to pull her muscles in even more.

Mr and Mrs Dylan Dunkin-Buckshaw.

The nerve endings in her scalp and at the base of her neck tingled. Maybe she should take Brendon’s advice to her mother and look at it as not losing her name but gaining another family. There was Dylan’s brother, his father and of course, his mother.

His mother. Rita. Who had been so excited about the wedding that Megan had actually stopped taking her calls in the final stages of preparation—not to be cruel, it was just too much. Her squeaky voice and over enthusiasm was draining, and Megan needed some energy left for the big day.

She’d called her yesterday, though, had bitten the bullet and picked up the phone. As she’d expected, it had been an hour of hysteria that had ranged from wild excitement to desperate despair because the napkins weren’t the right shade of baby pink—how many shades of baby pink could there be?

“You okay, sweetpea?” Brendon took Megan’s left hand.

“Yes, I think so.” She looked at her hand in his. Her ring finger was bare, not even an indent. She’d hardly worn her engagement ring over the last six months, she’d been too worried about it getting wrecked at work with the glue she used on her designs. Now the ring was transferred to her right hand so that the new wedding band could be easily slipped on.

“You sure?” Georgie asked.

Megan pulled in as deep a breath as she could with the corset on. Her breasts pushed against the bones and she was aware of her heart thumping faster than normal.

“What is it?” Brendon asked.

“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m fine.” Megan forced her mouth to turn up at the corners. “Really, let’s get this show on the road.”

“I’ll see you there,” her mother said. “Georgie and Brendon are very capable bridesmaids.”

“And Gucci,” Brendon added.

“And Gucci.” Iris reached down and patted Gucci on the head. He licked her hand then ran excitedly in a circle.

“Yep, see you there, Mum,” Megan said.