‘What a lovely, lovely bride,’ the islanders whispered to each other, escaping from harsh reality into misty romance, but they were seeing Aunt Maudie’s gorgeously worked dress and veil and they were seeing Fern’s tremulous smile behind her veil.

They weren’t seeing the real Fern.

The real Fern was somewhere else.

Fern certainly wasn’t this vision in white. Someone else was keeping careful step with her uncle and smiling at wedding guests to either side.

The real Fern was numb.

When medical texts had been too heavy to handle Fern had read her share of romantic novels. She knew a bride should glide down the aisle in a haze of emotion. She should see her beloved turn toward her from the altar and she should catch her breath at the sheer sight of him…

How could Fern catch her breath when it was just Sam-the boy she’d known for ever? When it was just the sensible thing to do to marry Sam. The right thing…

Well, she should at least look at him.

Fern forced herself to look toward the altar. At the end of the aisle Sam was definitely turned towards her-and his eyes were almost as anxious as Uncle Al’s.

That was odd…

Sam was the sure one. It was Sam who had badgered Fern for years to take this step. What was he doing being anxious now?

Weddings did funny things to people, Fern guessed. She made a huge effort and gave him a wide, reassuring smile.

Uncle Al had been directed by his wife to walk slowly and he was doing just that. It was taking an age to get to the altar. Time seemed to stand still.

Maybe Lizzy was here…That might unsettle Sam.

Fern turned to search the crowd-and caught the eyes of a man standing almost right beside her…

Who on earth…?

This was a man Fern had never seen before. Immaculately dressed in a deep black dinner suit, the stranger stood out from the similarly dressed wedding guests as a man apart.