Tinsel turned from where she was picking up Henry’s boutonniere, raising one eyebrow. “No, you look stylish,” she replied, glancing up and down the sleek lines of the quite expensive suit he was wearing. “And very handsome. Stop complaining that he wouldn’t let you wear your pajamas. Here.” She walked over and stepped in front of Henry to tuck the spray of flowers into his buttonhole, smoothing his lapels down once she was done. “Now you’re done. Look at you. Have you got your “something old, something new”, or is that just a superstition for the bride?”