She smiled brightly as she entered the ballroom. She had made up her mind that no matter what happens, she was going to enjoy herself at the wedding. She noticed that the first of several adjoining chambers had been thrown open for the convenience of guests. And the very first person she saw—of course!—was Derek Edensor, looking dark and elegant and toplofty as he stood at the opposite side of the room conversing with a gorgeous blond-haired lady who was seated and sipping from a glass of wine.
If she could have retreated in good order and returned to the room—or all the way to her apartment in London—she would have done so. But Lori had linked an arm through hers, and the only way to go was forward.
Trouble, trouble, trouble, Pearl thought, noticing irrelevantly the elegance of Derek'
