CHAPTER FIFTEEN
At precisely one o’clock in the afternoon the following Saturday, a flourish of trumpets announced the royal wedding procession. As fifteen hundred guests, including Duncan Moore who had accompanied Boyd and Rowdy to Vernonia, sat in the intricately carved wooden pews, the ancient stone cathedral’s walls swallowed the music.
An omen or poor acoustics?
Standing in the vestibule, Izzy shivered with apprehension.
The first of twelve bridal attendants, all wearing ice-blue strapless silk gowns, strolled into the church. She’d barely met any of the women, but at least Jules was her maid of honor.
Even though I’ve known I would be told whom to wed, I’ve never given up hope that somehow I’ll be able to marry for love. However remote the possibility.
Jules had received anothe
