A bird warbling right in front of her window woke her from restless dreams. Phryne resisted the urge to throw her pillow at the intruder and pulled herself into a sitting position. She was shivering in the cool morning air. Dawn was still battling the night outside, but she felt no desire to go back to sleep nor believed it a possibility. Jack's wedding day. It promised to be beautiful.

With one quick motion Miss Fisher threw the sheets off herself and jumped out of bed. No time to lose, many things had to be done. By the time Mr Butler came to wake her, she was sitting in the bathtub.

"Is Dot awake yet, Mr B?" she asked with fake cheer.

"She is currently making tea," he informed her, somewhat stunned.

"Please send her up, I would like to discuss something with her," Phryne asked, before climbing from the tub and sending her butler withdrawing before a blush could take hold of his cheeks. Dorothy Williams pattered into the room mere moments later, but didn't find her mistress there.

"Miss Phryne?"

"In here, Dot."

The companion realised that the door to the dressing room was a crack open and knocked gently. In the middle of the room stood Miss Fisher already in her undergarments, turning on her stockinged heels.

"I might need some help choosing an appropriate dress," Miss Fisher said. Dot stared at her as if she had grown a second head in the last minute or so.

"What kind of appropriate, Miss?" she asked carefully. Phryne crinkled her nose at the question.

"Well, there is a certain etiquette as a wedding guest. And we wouldn't want to offend the Inspector and his bride now, would we?" she asked, her finger slipping over an ivory dress she had been dying to wear with a certain amount of regret. Dot still stood, rooted to the spot. Now she cleared her throat noisily.

"What is it, Dot?" Phryne asked.

"You… Miss, are you sure you wish to go to the wedding?" Dorothy asked bravely. "I'm sure the Inspector would understand..." She trailed off.

Phryne stopped in her search for a dress.

"Jack is a dear friend," she said "and I can't miss his wedding. No matter how inconvenient a time he may have chosen."

"That's not...why.. I...mean..."

Miss Fisher began to feel sorry for her companion. The girl was clearly seeing the obvious and was trying to protect her. She halted, twirled towards Dot and dropped the act.

"Dot, sometimes we are bound to do things that are unpleasant in order to do the right thing," she said, a lot more soberly and blinked back a stray tear. Dot nodded, looking like she was about to cry herself.

"So, why don't we find that dress?" Phryne asked, pressing her companion's sweaty fingers. Another nod. Miss Fisher twirled, shaking off the emotional moment as quickly as it had come and pulled out something tomato red with gold applications.

"What about this?"

Dot looked uncomfortable.

"Miss, I believe to outshine the bride might be considered rude..."

Phryne couldn't help but smirk at the thought, but obediently hung the dress back in place.

"Well, Dot, as you can see, I really do need your help."

X

Dorothy had outdone herself. When Miss Fisher climbed from the Hispano-Suiza in an emerald green dress in which the morning sun sparkled lazily, she felt she could take on the world – or at least the Inspector's wedding. St Ambrose church lay quietly in the early light, framed by trees and rose bushes. It was a small, friendly church, so very fitting to a man like Jack Robinson.

While she was contemplating the location, a grey looking Dot climbed from the passenger seat. She had chosen a sensible ensemble in several shades of yellow and brown and looked rather nice. But, the most stunning wedding guest, Miss Fisher rather suspected, was Alessandro Bricelli, who looked every bit as handsome as she had expected. They were still assembling themselves on the pavement, smoothing out skirts and flinging scarves into the right position, when a police motorcar pulled up.

"I'll see you inside," Phryne whispered to Dot, who took Alessandro's arm and maneuvered him into the church.

Jack looked like he hadn't slept all night, dark rings underneath his eyes, his expression stony. She felt her heart go out to him.

"Good morning," she said as upbeat as she could manage through the giant knot in her throat. "So the big day has finally arrived?"

"A little faster than expected," he smiled, fiddling with his bow tie and rendering it even more crooked. His hands were shaking with nerves.

"Allow me," she said, reaching out and expertly retying the silky fabric. As she did, her fingertips brushed his neck and she thought she heard him draw a sharp breath through his teeth. Bravely she fought on, avoiding his eye. Finally she had succeeded.

"There, much better," she smiled and found him looking at her. He withdrew his eyes as soon as he noted her attention.

"Thank you, Miss Fisher," he said, clearing his throat. "I may have been a little nervous this morning."

"I believe that is the unique right of a bridegroom," she said, taking his arm. Together they wandered across the courtyard towards the bluestone building.

"Thank you for coming," Jack said quietly, as they reached the door and paused for a moment. "I didn't think you would."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," Phryne lied with a brief flutter of her lashes. She reached out, brushing a speck of dust from his coat, sorting her thoughts. "And for what it's worth Jack, you never lacked anything but my courage."

He tilted his head at her in question, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard right. The melody of a car horn being pressed repeatedly, covered up any answer he could have uttered. To his surprise, Bert and Cec jumped from their taxicab.

"The red raggers, Miss Fisher, really?" he asked, with a faint smile quirking at the corner of his lips. Phryne simpered, turning her eyes skywards.

"I may have asked them to bring some things for your wedding," she explained. Under Jack's stunned expression the cabbie's logged massive baskets overflowing with flowers towards the church doors.

"Dot's inside," Miss Fisher called before turning back to Jack. "I assumed preparations hadn't been quite finished yet."

The Inspector took a deep breath.

"You never cease to surprise me," he said quietly. Miss Fisher shrugged.

"Consider it my wedding gift. I had no time to buy you anything else."

She didn't tell him that she had also asked the Cabbies to carry today. The sore feeling in the pit of her stomach hadn't let up since last night. But in the light of the sunshine and Jack's tender smile, her dark thoughts seemed ridiculous.

"Shall we," he asked, offering his arm again. They stepped into the twilight of the church. A handful of guests was already sprinkled through the wooden benches. Phryne had no doubt that many hadn't made the date on such short notice. Eyes were turned towards them, she could hear some whispers, wondered if it was appropriate to be led into the church by the groom. She'd never felt drawn to a married man before, which was surprising enough, considering that matrimony appeared to be the default in society. The road more traveled.

She glanced at the Inspector, who seemed oblivious to the stir they caused in his wedding guests. Instead he stared at the altar as if he was walking towards the gallows. She pressed his arm.

"Jack," she whispered. She had to repeat herself before he managed to look at her. The expression from earlier was back. She couldn't make out if it was excitement or terror.

"You may have to draw a breath sometime in the near future," she reminded him gently. He didn't answer, but she felt him breath just as they arrived at the altar. Here she had to leave him. There was a moment of hesitation that she more sensed that actually felt. Her fingers slipped off his arm, sense drew her away from him, left him standing alone at the front of the aisle. Then everybody stood. The door opened, organ music set in. Jack had turned, looked at his bride walk down the aisle on the arm of her brother. Concetta looked stunning, almost ethereal, Phryne had to admit, her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. All thought on outshining the bride appeared suddenly ridiculous. She wanted to curl into a ball and weep, but instead she watched on as Concetta arrived at Jack, who looked at her with this tiny smile that had been aimed at herself too many times to remember. A kind looking, young priest greeted the happy couple and asked the congregation to sit as he begun his spiel.

"Should anyone here present know of any reason, why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace," he cut through the fog that surrounded Phryne's brain. She could feel Dot's burning stare on her, pressed her lips together to keep the words from spilling over them. The priest nodded with satisfaction. The moment had passed. Phryne drew a shuddering breath. The ceremony went on, blurred into a random salad of words, until she heard Jack's familiar voice, trembling with nerves.

"I, John Anthony Robinson take thee, Concetta Maria Fabrizzi to be my wife…"

Miss Fisher blinked back annoying tears as she listened to him pledging his life to Concetta. It was no use. She cursed herself for having decided to come. Why had she? He'd had made it to 'better or worse' when some commotion outside snapped Miss Fisher out of her personal pool of pain and confusion. Heavy boots raced over the courtyard. She jumped to her feet.

"Jack!" she yelled, the very moment the door burst open. A shot fell. Phryne jumped.