Read Online School of Fortune by Amanda Brown - Free Book Online

line, would process down the aisle alone since Rosimund had provided only nine groomsmen. Too late Kimberly realized that entering last, in solitary splendor, would have been infinitely better than walking down the aisle with Woody. Worse, the eight other couples were chatting comfortably arm in arm. Half of them looked like they were already going steady. Kimberly felt like killing someone. “Excuse me, Woody.”
    She went to the ladies’ room and finished every last drop of vodka in her flask.

Four
    T
he worse the rehearsal, the better the performance:
if that axiom were true, Pippa’s wedding would be flawless. Despite her bullhorn, Thayne was nearly hoarse by the time the chorus, symphony, bell choir, and brass quintets had regrouped following the collapse of the risers. When the musicians were finally tuned and ready to go, she repaired to the vestibule with Rosimund. Sight of the two matriarchs marching down the aisle toward them struck terror in the bridesmaids. Within seconds drunken strumpets became demure damsels standing in a line. The groomsmen apishly followed suit.
    Thayne paused to sniff the air in the lobby: was that beer or her perfume? Madame Ricci had advised her it would smell different on other people, and she was absolutely right. Thayne’s frown deepened as she observed the indecently exposed flesh on parade.
    Rosimund didn’t help by commenting, “I feel as if we’re in a bordello.”
    â€œAt least they’re not wearing crowns with pants. Are we ready to process, everyone?” “Yes, Mrs. Walker!”
    Thayne sensed something odd about the young couples. They seemed to be propping each other up. Aha: the high heels. The girls hadn’t eaten since lunch and were probably feeling dizzy. “We’ll be at dinner in no time,” she announced. “Where is Pippa?”
    â€œShe’s getting her train reattached,” Kimberly replied. “One of the harness straps broke.”
    â€œAre we ready to begin back there?” Cedric’s voice boomed from the front of the auditorium.
    â€œYes,” Thayne shouted back through her bullhorn. The music began. “Tommy! Come here.”
    Tommy, the ring bearer, was a professional child actor. After scouring every possible cousin in the Walker family and failing to find a boy four feet tall with curly blond hair and excellent deportment, Wyeth McCoy had called a talent agency in Hollywood. Although he looked six years old, Tommy was actually thirteen. He had been smoking heavily for the last few years in order to stunt his growth. Thayne told everyone he was a third cousin once removed.
    â€œWhere is the groom’s ring?” Thayne cried in horror, spying only one band on the pillow.
    â€œIt got lost.” Bored with all the waiting, Tommy had tried it on. That’s when it had slipped through his fingers and rolled away.
    Rosimund clucked in disappointment. A Henderson would have chopped off his right arm before letting go of that ring. “Wherever did you find this boy, Thayne?”
    Thayne knelt beside the lad. Was she hallucinating or had he been smoking? “Where did this accident happen, Tommy?”
    â€œSomewhere around there.” He pointed.
    â€œWhere is the f-ing mother of the groom?” Cedric fulminated from the other end of the hall. “You’re fifteen seconds behind the music.”
    Rosimund clamped her hands over little Arabella’s ears. “Such language! Please tell that man to control himself!”
    â€œCedric, we’ve lost a ring,” Thayne called.
    â€œI don’t care if you’ve lost your f-ing cat, send the mother of the groom out NOW.” Cedric instructed the orchestra to start over again.
    Rosimund rehearsed walking from the rear of the auditorium to her front row seat on the groom’s side while gazing beatifically at her son, Lance, who was waiting onstage with the Reverend Alcott. It was a very heady