“Yes,” said Fee.

“Oh,” said Liam. “Sorry. I was five, and Freddie was three.”

“Poor little babies,” said Fee. “Five and three, that must have been so hard on all of you. It’s a huge credit to your father that you’ve both grown up so beautifully. Can I ask you another question, Liam?”

A little nervously, Liam cleared his throat. “Ask away,” he said.

“What on earth,” said Fee, “has Lulu been telling you about me?”

“You know what you’d look good in?” said Nigel to Aunt Amy as they danced. “My Duchess line. Not many girls can carry it off, but you could. Come into the shop tomorrow, and I’ll fix you up—the Malfi, I think, or maybe the Marlborough in a nice classy chestnut, show off those ankles. And I’ll bet you a pound to a penny there’s someone who’d like to see that, isn’t there?”

“There might be,” said Aunt Amy.

“It’s a date, then,” said Nigel. The music ended, and he escorted her to her chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and wrestle my boyfriend back from the band’s drummer and propose to him.”

Sophie danced with Matthew, with Winston, with Cheng, with David, and with Liam. Jamie danced with Emma, with Fee, with Rosie, with Lulu, and with Emma’s best friend from university. At last, Jamie saw Sophie sitting alone at a table, looking thoughtful, and went over to her.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked her a little shyly.

Sophie looked up at him and smiled.

“I suppose it would be silly not to, really, wouldn’t it?” she said.

Tom and Susan did not dance. They were too busy talking. And talking.

“Mom, I have something terrible to confess to you,” said Emma the next day when she and Matthew arrived at her parents’ house for brunch. “I’ve started an affair with a married man. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Only if you promise to continue it,” said Fee, smiling. Emma had never looked so pretty, she thought, as she did today in faded jeans and a loose red sweater, with no makeup and her hair hanging softly around her face. She turned to kiss Matthew. “Welcome, son-in-law. Did Caroline catch her train okay?”

“She did,” said Matthew. “And she even admitted to having had a good time this weekend, for which I think we can largely thank Liam. Thank you, Liam.”

“’Twas me Oirish charrm, sure,” said Liam. “’Twas the blarney, d’ye see, the blarney.”

Lulu looked at him over her coffee mug.

“Never talk like that again,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said, returning to his scrambled eggs.

“You looked beautiful, Emma,” said Charlie. “I know all brides are beautiful, but I see lots of them at the hotel, and you were really something a bit above and beyond.”

“Well, thank you,” said Emma, “although I’m sure it helps that we’re friends. We all always think our friends are special.”

“Well, I hardly know you at all,” said Liam, “and I still thought you looked pretty good. Not that I’m a connoisseur of bridal fashions, mind you. Lulu, do you have any Tabasco sauce? Everyone eats it on scrambled eggs in California, and I sort of got into the habit.”