The Cold Light of Mourning Read Online Free Page B

only about eighteen or nineteen, I think. Good-looking lad, he was. Meg Wynne said her mother took it really hard. Well, she would do, wouldn’t she? But I’m sure her parents will be here to see her get married.”
    Penny murmured sympathetically as she reached for the topcoat polish.
    “You’re almost done, Miss Sayles,” she said. “You obviously keep your nails well looked after in London, so there wasn’t too much for me to do today. Miss Davidson, just give me a moment to set up for you, and then it’s your turn!”
    Anne handed off her magazine to Jennifer as the two girls changed places.
    What are your dresses like?” Penny asked as she started work on Anne’s nails.
    “Well, what they are definitely not is puffy and covered with bows,” replied Anne. “They’re just, well, like evening dresses, but not over the top, you know? Meg Wynne always wants everything to be in the best possible taste and I guess it’s the designer in her, but she likes everything to be sleek and sophisticated, if you know what I mean. Minimal. Modern.
    “By the way, I was wondering, what part of America are you from?”
    “I’m not from the States, actually, I’m from Canada. Most people make that mistake, because the accents can sound quite a bit alike. I’m from Nova Scotia. Nice little place called Truro.”
    “Oh, I was just wondering, because Emyr and Meg Wynne are going to America for their honeymoon. New York. Have you ever been there?”
    Penny said she had, many years ago, as part of a university trip. While her classmates had spent their days at the Museum of Modern Art, she had found it difficult to tear herself away from the old masters in the Frick Collection.
    “I haven’t been yet, but one day!” Anne enthused. “I love everything about America and I can’t wait to go there. I was just green with envy when Meg Wynne told me about New York. I think I was even more jealous about that than I was that she’d landed such a great catch as Emyr!”
    Penny smiled at Anne’s open and eager charm.
    “I was wondering which of you is the maid of honour,” she said.
    “That would be Jennifer,” said Anne. “There are just the two bridesmaids, and Emyr is having David as his best man, and there’s one usher, Robbie Llewellyn. They all grew up here, apparently. Went to school together and been friends almost all their lives. The wedding is quite small, only about fifty people, and most of them are Emyr’s people. But you’d expect that, wouldn’t you, when the wedding is being held in his village?”
    “Yes, I guess you would,” Penny agreed. “It’s been quite the topic of conversation around here lately. Everyone certainly wishes Emyr and his bride every happiness.”
    “They’ve sent the most wonderful presents, Meg Wynne says. They are all on display up at the Hall, and we’ll get to see them all tonight at the dinner.”
    The two girls exchanged excited smiles.
    The dinner to be held at the Hall on the evening before Emyr’s marriage had been the talk of the town for weeks. The award-winning chef-owner of an exclusive nearby country house hotel, with her culinary team, had been hired for the evening to cater it. Besides the wedding party, a few select guests—mostly longtime friends of the family—would attend. No expense had been spared for food or flowers, and preparations had been under way for days, with much coming and going of tradesmen’s delivery vans.
    The groom and his supporters were staying at the Hall, while the bride and her party had rooms at the Red Dragon Hotel, with its easy access through a side door to the picturesque walkway along the River Conwy that led to the church. Penny had offered to nip along to the hotel in the morning to do Meg Wynne’s nails but had been told that Meg would prefer to come to her.
    All arrangements for the bridal party’s nail care had been made over the telephone, and Penny had been instructed to submit her bill for the bridal party’s nail