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“Me?” Ambrose turned back to face me, eyes wide and skin way too pale. Sounds from outside wafted through the large windows, strains of classical music and chatter from guests arriving, all of whom looked in better shape than Ambrose. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay to be nervous.” I steered him away from the row of windows into a quiet corner. Across the room, a bevy of young people in purple—dresses for some of the attendants and a spectacular lavender tux for Lex—were doing last-minute primping and selfie-taking, and no one was paying us any mind. I put an arm around Ambrose anyway. Not for good boyfriend points, but because he looked like someone who could really use a hug.
“I’m not…okay. Fine.” He held up his hands before relaxing into my embrace, dropping his head onto my shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. But more for Hester than myself. I want everything to go perfectly for her.”
“It will.” I squeezed his shoulder. I’d run up to the room for him if he needed his meds, but his nervousness seemed to be more at a level where a pep talk could do the trick. “You’re going to do great, both of you. She looks so happy.”
“Thank you. She really does.” Ambrose gazed adoringly across the room at Hester, who was a vision in Victorian lace, managing to look both impossibly young and ageless at the same time. And every time she looked Ambrose’s way, she smiled. The love there was real. Ambrose exhaled a little more at Hester’s smile. “And you’re all set to help with Hercules?”
“Yup.” As Hester turned her attention back to her mother, who was fiddling with her veil, I picked up Hercules from where he’d been hanging out near our feet. The dog sitter would take him and the other dog after their march down the aisle, and I’d volunteered to deliver the dogs to the helper and collect them after the reception. “Hercules at least looks ready to party.”
I held him out to Ambrose, who accepted the armful and smoothed out his little doggie tuxedo and bow tie collar. With any other dog and owner combo, I would have laughed, but somehow the two of them managed to be more endearing than comedic.
“He’s a good distraction from my nerves.” He petted the dog’s back. “And so are you.”
Tilting his head back, he gave me a fast kiss on the cheek. Or at least, he’d probably been intending a quick peck. But I saw it coming and turned to capture his mouth in a slower, more sultry kiss. If he wanted distraction, I could deliver.
“Oops.” Lex made an exaggerated startled noise as they approached our little corner, which wasn’t nearly as private as I would have liked. “Uncle Ambrose, it’s almost time.”
Lex motioned at where the bridal party was lining up. Hester stood tall and proud, beaming with the sort of energy that seemed to infuse all newlyweds. Ambrose was so worried about everything being perfect for her, but one look at her face said it already was.
Ambrose and Cressida’s mother had arrived shortly after noon, and the stately matriarch was ushered to a front-row seat before the groom and his equally fresh-faced best man took their place in front of the gazebo. The music shifted as the attendants sailed gracefully down the aisle, visions in purple. Lex was particularly majestic, strutting forward with head-turning confidence, and their arrival at the front was my signal to let the dogs out. My bad pun made me chuckle as I carefully positioned Hercules and the flower-festooned Princess at the start of the aisle.
“Go to Lex,” I told Hercules, and for about five paces, everything seemed to proceed perfectly. But Princess was first to be distracted, meandering through the groom’s side of the guests, accepting pats and praise. Peals of laughter echoed along with the surf of the nearby ocean as the little poodle went off course. For his part, Hercules turned around and retreated to Ambrose, who tried to send him back, but Hercules was having none of it, yipping excitedly.
“No one panic! I brought bacon,” Lex called out to even more laughter. But the trick worked as Hercules scampered down the aisle and even Princess turned up for a treat. Cressida had a pinched expression at the whole caper, but the guests seemed to love it, and spirits were high as Hester made her dramatic entrance.
Strangely, my own throat went tight. Not for Hester, whom I barely knew, but for Ambrose as he escorted her. I was…proud. Yeah, that was it. I was proud of him. I knew being in front of this many people wasn’t easy for him, but it was more pride in who he was—the sort of uncle who’d earned the right to be at the center of this special day, the good brother who held Cressida tightly as they left Hester at the altar, the fun person who dressed his dog to match the wedding party, and the dapper silver fox who looked totally at home in his black tux with purple tulip boutonnière.
