Chapter 8

Hannah slipped out the front door of the pub and let it swing quietly shut behind her. Not that anyone would have heard if she’d slammed the thing. Dear Lord, but her head was one giant throb. As were her face, her mouth, and her shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed back at the Point and bury her head under a mound of pillows. Really soft, cool pillows. And maybe never crawl back out again.

At least she’d finally been able to get out of that awful dress and hat. She and Delia had pulled their co-maid-of-honor rank and defeated Fiona and Kerry on wearing those ridiculous getups a minute longer once the rehearsal was over. Privately—though Hannah would never admit it to Fi—it had been pretty hilarious as they’d rehearsed the actual walk down the aisle. All of them together looked like the cast of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest Gets Hitched. In all honesty, the laughter and snide comments they’d shot back and forth had been the best sort of distraction, keeping h