‘Are you absolutely certain you want to get married?’Flora Graham, whose thoughts had drifted to the ongoing knotty problem of informing those concerned that she didn’t want her spoiled and brattish nephew as a pageboy, hurriedly snapped back to the immediate present, the crowded and cheerful restaurant, and her best friend and bridesmaid eyeing her with concern across the table.‘Of course I do.’ She frowned slightly. ‘Chris and I are perfect for each other; you know that. I couldn’t be happier.’‘You don’t look particularly happy,’ Hester said judicially, refilling their coffee cups.Flora rolled her eyes in mock despair. ‘You wait until it’s your turn, and you find yourself in the middle of a three-ring circus with no time off for good behaviour. My mother must have been having one of her deaf days when I said I wanted a small quiet wedding.’‘Then why don’t you have one?’ Hester met her astonished look steadily. ‘Why don’t you ask Chris to get a special licence, and slope off somewhere and do the business?
