“You look so tired, sweetie,” Mom said, taking my hand. “Sit down and let us wait on you while you tell us all about it.”

“I’ve been poring over the papers,” Gemma said, trailing me into the living room. “Daphne looked stunning. Everyone is going to be wearing that neckline now.”

I heaved myself down onto the couch with an unladylike grunt and took the copy of the Mail she’d brandished. The front page bore the formal portrait of Daphne and Freddie in a drawing room at the palace, beaming at the camera—him in his uniform and her in an ivory silk Valentino with a high, gentle cowl neckline and three-quarter-length sleeves, her sixteen-foot lace-edged train curling around in front of them. Down in the bottom corner, there was a photo of me and Nick entering to take our seats for the religious ceremony.

“I look like the broad side of a barn,” I moaned.

“A very beautiful, stately barn,” Nick said, sitting next to me and placing my feet in his lap so he could untie my sneakers.

“You looked great,” Lacey said loyally, handing me a plate loaded with baked goods and a slice of quiche. “Also, no offense, but no one will remember what you wore to this.”

“How was Freddie?” Bea asked as Gaz bustled around loading everyone else up with carbs. “Happy?”

“Did he not look it?” Nick asked, rubbing my left foot.

“No, he did,” Gemma said. “But it’s hard to tell on TV what’s real and what’s acting.”

“He is definitely devoted to Daphne,” I told the room.

“That’s super.” Gaz looked mournful as he handed me a cup of tea. “I mean it. I’m not rooting for it to all collapse on itself, but I am going to miss having his furry mug around.”

“Everyone will,” Mom said. “Earl and I hated having the girls so far away, even just when they were at Cornell, but we had to let them go. Change is the worst part of life.” She smiled. “But it’s also the best part. Your bakery is going to be beautiful, Gaz. And Bex and Nick have the twins coming, Danny is yelling NO at me every two seconds, and Gemma and Bea are…” Mom stopped short.

“Getting hitched, actually,” Gemma said. She waved her left hand, revealing a wide gold band, overlaid with a platinum filigree detail.

“SHUT UP,” I blurted.

“Ever the American,” Bea muttered.

“This is fantastic!” I said. “If I could move, I would hug you.”

“I’ll handle it,” Nick said, leaping off the sofa and diving onto the other one, the better to wrap his arms around Bea and Gemma at the same time.

“Make it a foursome,” Gaz said, trotting over and tackling them from the other side.

“Going for five,” Cilla added, piling on with a giggle.