“It’s a Duchesse De Nemours, to be exact,” an older woman in a dove grey pantsuit said, moving closer to them.
Graeme smiled at her. He didn’t know her, which meant she wasn’t family. “I’m surprised you know that,” he said, instantly feeling like he might have insulted the woman.
“Of course I know it,” she said, imperious but not offended. “It’s my garden, after all.”
“Is it?” Graeme perked up even more.
The older woman held out her hand. “Muriel St. Ives,” she said. “Owner and manager of Penwith Grange.”
“Graeme Dallen,” Graeme shook her hand. “Disgraced, gay ex-husband of the bride and garden designer.”
Mrs. St. Ives’s expression went from imperious to puzzled to delighted within the space of a heartbeat. “I’ve heard all the gossip about you in the last few days,” she said, much to Graeme’s dread. “Came out as queer, jilted the bride after two years of marriage, and ran off with this one?” She nodded to Ryan.
“No!” Graeme said, far too loud. “I mean, I was married to Mavis, realized I was gay, and let her go so she could have the life she deserves. But this is not, er, the man who made me realize I was gay.”
Graeme couldn’t decide if he wanted to sink into the earth or laugh at how fast he’d spilled his sorry story to Mrs. St. Ives. There was something about her that hinted she wasn’t cut from the same cloth as his family, though.
“By the way,” she said with a sly look,” I overheard you expressing your displeasure about my gardens earlier.”
“Oh, God,” Graeme said, color draining from his face. “I didn’t know anyone else was around.”
“I am always around, Graeme Dallen,” she said.
Graeme wanted to make more of an apology, but Benny’s other brother, Daniel, tapped a microphone up under the archway of flowers, then said, “If you could all be seated, we’ll start the ceremony.”
“Sorry,” Graeme whispered to Mrs. St. Ives, jerking his head toward the back corner of the chairs.
“We’ll speak later,” Mrs. St. Ives said with a cunning look.
Graeme liked the woman, despite knowing her for all of two minutes. Her promise to speak to him later felt real, like she wasgenuinely interested in him. It might have been all the gossip she’d overheard.
Whatever the case, there was too much else going on for Graeme to think about it. He and Ryan moved to the last two seats in the very back row and sat. More people shot him nasty looks as they, too, took seats, and by the time everyone was in their chairs, there was an empty space next to him where no one would sit, and Mavis’s neighbor, Mrs. Pettifer, plunked herself down in front of them with a hat the size of a coracle.
None of the treatment surprised Graeme. He tugged nervously at the hem of his sleeves and wished he could hold Ryan’s hand through the whole thing. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to attend the wedding in the first place except that he felt as if he owed it to Mavis to give her what she wanted on her big day. Her second big day. Her real big day.
Mavis was beautiful, though. As soon as she made her appearance and walked down the aisle between folding chairs, no one had a thought or glare to spare for Graeme. Graeme wasn’t sure if she’d seen him sitting there, but it didn’t really matter. Her eyes were for Benny alone as he and his brothers stepped up at the front of the aisle. It was clear to everyone that Mavis and Benny were totally in love.
That was how it should be. As the ceremony commenced, Graeme found himself far more moved than he expected to be. He almost cried. As horrible and painful as everything had been for the two of them when it all fell apart, Mavis had landed on her feet. This was the reason Graeme had called it all off as soon as he knew about himself. This was the reason he’d defied everyone who said it was his duty to stay married to Mavis no matter what. He would never be able to look at her the way Benny did as the vicar joined the two of them in holy matrimony. Their marriage would be what marriage was supposed to be.
“Are you alright?” Ryan leaned close to ask him fifteen minutes later, once the bride and groom had made their way back down the aisle, beaming and blowing kisses, and the bulk of the congregation had followed them across to the marquee where music was already playing.
“Yeah,” Graeme said with a sigh and a smile, standing. “I’m more than alright. Everything worked out as it should in the end.”
Ryan smiled at him, and despite what anyone might think, he reached for and squeezed his hand, then continued to hold it for a few steps as they followed the stragglers to the marquee.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Graeme’s sense of peace and rightness was shattered before they even made it to the marquee when his brother, Lionel, came rushing out to block their path.
“Hi, Lionel,” Graeme tried to greet him as if nothing were wrong and they were still brothers. They’d been close once. “Ryan, this is my brother, Lionel.”
“Pleased to?—”
“How dare you show your face around decent people?” Lionel cut Ryan off without even looking at him. “No one wants a degenerate pervert like you around.”
Being insulted more or less behind his back by Mavis’s cousins and confronted by Mavis’s mum was one thing. Having that sort of vitriol hurled at him by his own brother was a blow he wasn’t expecting.
“Is the whole family here?” he asked, voice shaking, fighting to ignore Lionel’s anger.
