The next morning after a tense breakfast, Tessa went on a walk through the gardens with Duncan. She held his hand as they strolled down the flower lined path. With a content sigh, she let her head rest on his shoulder as they walked, happy just to be close enough for contact, relieved to have him there to comfort her and put all the issues into prospective.

"I want to plan," she announced. "I am not waiting any longer; if they don't like this, too bad."

Duncan chuckled. "Then let's plan."

"What flowers?" she wondered aloud, fingering the meticulously cared for fall blossoms. "What is in season?"

"Pick what you want," he told her. "We can find a greenhouse and get anything you want."

"Are you just going to toss some money my way and let me do as I please?"

"You deserve it," he kissed her scalp.

"Don't you have an opinion?"

"I think you should get the most beautiful gown ever created," he told her seriously. "Just make sure I can get it off you quickly."

She laughed. "Velcro okay with you?"

"The best quality."

"Then we are agreed." They walked a few more paces then she asked: "What about you?"

"Hum?"

"What do you want to wear?"

"I thought I'd wear my kilt."

"And Richie?"

"What about him?"

"He's your best man. What is he to wear?"

"Hadn't thought about him. What about your sister?"

"Royal blue silk."

He smiled. "I suppose I am a slacker." Tessa giggled suddenly. "What?"

"Can you imagine my mother's face if he showed up in a kilt?" she snickered.

"Can you imagine Richie's when I tell him that I want him to wear a skirt?" Duncan retorted.

Tessa laughed loudly. "Oh, Duncan…" she gasped for air. "He'd die!"

"It's almost worth the aftermath just to see his face."

"So what will you have him wear?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't think he'd stand for anything traditional from my neck of the woods."

"Is that what you want?"

"I don't think he'd like it."

"If you are going to give me everything I want, I should give you what you want," she decided.

"Oh?" he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "And how are you going to make him agree?"

"Simple, either he wears the kilt or he can wear a bridesmaid's gown."

Duncan smiled. "At least it will be his choice this way."

Duncan and Tessa sat in the garden on a stone bench until lunch rolled around. They stood together, the new united front formed. This was their wedding, their moment, their time, their decision.

Lunch was being served on the veranda for the adults, the children were fed in the kitchen. Once everyone was settled Tessa decided to make her first announcement.

"Well, we have made a decision," she said.

"Oh?" her mother asked politely.

"We've set our date."

"For what, darling?"

Tessa smiled, refusing to rise to the bait. "For the wedding, of course."

Duncan put his hand on Tessa's knee. "Tell them," he encouraged her.

"October fifteenth," she announced.

Silence. Odette finally spoke up. "You must be so excited."

"You will be my matrone d'honneur, no?" she asked.

"Oh, of course!" Odette got up from her seat to give her big sister a hug and a kiss. Tessa smiled gratefully at her, a silent thank you for the support.

"A winter wedding?" her mother asked. "Don't you think spring would be better?"

"Both would be beautiful," Odette floundered between her mother and her sister.

"But winter is sooner, and we don't want to wait too much longer," Duncan added.

"And wouldn't Odette look beautiful in a royal blue gown?" Tessa asked. "I could do some sketches and show you what I'm thinking."

"I'm sure it will be gorgeous."

"She looks better in pastels," Madame Noel interjected. "But I suppose my opinions are of no concern."

"Nope," Richie mumbled from his seat next to Duncan, who pinched his side. Luckily, no one else seemed to hear, save Nicolas who smirked at him.

"Madame," Duncan covered. "Of course we want you to tell us what you think, but I'm sure you understand that every bride has her heart set on her dream."

She pursed her lips. "I suppose you plan to leave her to plan all this?"

"Of course not. We were planning all morning."

"One morning and it is all planned?"

"No," Tessa answered, struggling to hold her patience. "But we have begun."

"And your family?" Monsieur Noel asked Duncan. "What do they think of this… idea?"

Duncan paused. "My cousin is my only living relative and I haven't been able to reach him. I was actually going to go into town to make some phone calls this evening."

"You can use our phone."

"It's a lot of long distance calling. I don't feel right taking advantage that way."

Tessa sat contentedly under the tree, her sketch book in her lap, her pastels on the ground by her side. Nature always seemed to provide her with the best inspiration. She had already designed a few versions of a gown for Odette. Now she turned her attention to herself. She only trusted herself to capture the balance of traditional and modern she wanted. The first sketch wasn't right… but she couldn't tell what was wrong with it. The skirt? The bodice? The veil? Everything?

The next page, the next dress. No… the veil should be shorter. No, longer. No…The sleeves, sheer? Banded? Belled?

The next page, the next dress. No sleeves. Could she do that in winter? Maybe add a shawl? As she was thinking a curious shadow covered the page.

"What do you think?" Tessa held up the page.

Richie looked at it and shrugged. "It's pretty."

She flipped the page back. "This one?"

"That's pretty, too."

She sighed and flipped to the first drawing she had done. "This?"

"I like it," he answered.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty."

Tessa groaned. "Very helpful."

"What?" he sat down next to her under the tree.

"I am trying to design my wedding dress."

"Oh, these are for you?" He tried to take the pad from her.

"Of course. What did you think I was doing?"

"I dunno… doodling?"

"Doodling," she scoffed.

"Sorry…lemme see again."

She looked at him. "Here. Now, tell me which one you like the best."

He looked at the drawing again. "I dunno," he sighed. "They all look nice to me."

"Helpful." She took the book back. "What about these?" she showed him the various sketches for Odette's gown.

"They're pretty, too."

"You are no help at all," Tessa told him, taking the book back.

"Sorry. I don't know that much about fashion and junk. I just know what I like."

She smiled at him. "You… don't know fashion?"

He laughed. "Low blow, Tess, I happen to like the way I dress in the real world." He gestured at the clothes he was wearing. The nicer clothes Duncan had bought him in preparation for the trip.

"How about this one?" She set to work on a fresh page, drawing away, not letting Richie see. "Not until I'm done."

He waited impatiently, pestering a worm that had dared to surface within reach. He waited for it to start moving, then scooted it in a different direction, buried it in uprooted grass just to watch it dig itself out again. He was trying to pick it up without squashing it when Tessa hit him on the shoulder.

"Ne touchez pas cela," she told him.

He stopped playing with it. "You done?"

"Almost." She switched colors, put on the finishing touches, then, smiling broadly, showed him the drawing of a man in kilt and tartan.

He smirked. "That Mac?" he asked.

"No…" she shook her head slowly.

His smirk faded. "Please don't tell me that I'm supposed to wear that," he groaned.

"Duncan wants you to, but won't ask," she told him. "And since he is so busy making sure I get what I want, I'm going to make sure he gets what he wants."

"So, I'm supposed to wear that."

"We'd like for you to."

He shrugged. "Then guess I have to."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Richie." She pecked his cheek.

"That's how it's supposed to work, isn't it? Your wedding, your decision."

She sighed and shifted her gaze to the vineyard. "Not always."

"What was that?"

"Hum? Oh, nothing."

"I heard what you said."

"Don't worry about it."

"Why don't you talk to your mom?" he suggested. "Just explain to her that she's had her wedding, this is yours."

"It's not that easy," she confided in him. "My parents have certain expectations as to how things work. I've already broken so many of them…"

"So why not a few more?"

"Because that is not the way I was raised. I feel horrible going against my parents' wishes."

"So you moved all the way to America even though you felt horrible about it?"

"I was young and in love, I had always wanted to travel, it was something I had always planned on doing…"

"Didn't you always plan on getting married? Aren't you still in love?"

Tessa smiled at him. "If I were your age, I might agree with you. But when you get older, you will understand that it's not as simple as you like to think it is."

"Or maybe it's not as complicated as you like to think it is," he retorted.

"Unfortunately, it is."