Everyone stared at me, uncomprehending. I walked them through my thought process, the shape of the antlers, the flute from the dream, and the statue in Warwick’s house.
“He’d have to be a fool to keep it out in the open like that,” Marlowe said.
“Or very arrogant,” Kessian said. “Which he verifiably is. That presents a new problem, though. Last time we snuck around his house, we got caught, and even if we managed to steal it, that would make it inadmissible as evidence. We’d be the ones on the hook for possessing the murder weapon.”
He was right. “We need something that gives the authorities the right to search Foxbury Manor. Something ironclad enough he can’t bribe his way out of it.”
Mum offered to search through the contracts kept between Warwick and Grandad, if any had survived the fire. Marlowe, meanwhile, would research Warwick’s solicitors to see if any of them had dirt they were willing to part with. I didn’t think either would provide us with the proof we needed, though, because I had an inclination the proof we needed was already gone.
First, there’d been the fire. Then, when he’d caught us sneaking around, he’d accused us of stealing a contract. We hadn’t, but someone had.
Whatever they’d absconded with, I suspected it was what we needed. With Fae and Camilla’s wedding tomorrow, the search would have to wait until the day after, but a little crackle of hope went through me as I said goodnight to Kessian without kissing him, but thinking about it.
If Warwick went to prison for what he’d done, maybe Kessian wouldn’t have to fear losing his home anymore.
Chapter 27
The preparations for Fae’s wedding flew by. I spent the morning so occupied by setting out chairs and helping decorate the dining hall of the spa that I hardly thought of the wraith. Imprisoned in the sigil and a warded shed, it no longer posed as much of a threat as my mum, who’d been on a rampage since the florist told her the peonies had to be replaced with dahlias on account of the former having had a rough growing season.
When it came time for the ceremony, I waited near the entrance to the pavilion set up in the spa’s gardens alongside Amelia and the other members of the bridal party. I could hear the trickling water of the spring, which set me on edge. Kessian had been tasked with helping Fae get ready, so I hadn’t seen him all morning.
My breath caught when he finally appeared.
In the bustle of the morning, I hadn’t given thought to what he’d look like dressed up for the occasion. The cream of his suit complemented his hair, tying in with the blues in the pattern of the waistcoat. He wore it so much better than me, with his cane’s frost pattern like lace and the gold chain threaded into his plait catching the light. A sheen of powder on his cheeks brought out the shine of his freckles.
In the changing room, I hadn’t the time to properly appreciate how gorgeous he was. He spotted me, beamed, and walked over.
“Looking very sharp,” he said.
“I—er—thanks. You, er—”
He had me completely tongue-tied.
“Please tell me the cane doesn’t make me look like a pimp,” he said.
“If it did, I could be your whore,” I blurted.
Kessian’s jaw dropped. “I’m so glad Fae decided not to get married in a church if you’re gonna talk like that.”
“Sorry. Seriously, you look—” I cleared my throat. “Right. I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”
Kessian didn’t reply as we took our places in the bridal party queues. We’d never really finished our conversation before the wraith interrupted, and the muddy valley between friends and almost-lovers awkwardly hung over us. I’d compliment a friend and have a laugh with them, but perhaps offering to be his whore was a step too far.
The harpist struck up a chord, and the wedding guests went quiet. One by one, we filed down the aisle. I tried not to power-walk my way to the front, relieved to take my seat and join everyone else in craning our necks.
Camilla came first, wearing a modest lace gown with a long train and crystal teardrops dripping from her veil. Fae followed.
I’d already seen their dress at the fitting yesterday, but with the harpist’s plucked chords and the hushed atmosphere, it struck me how much time had passed, and how little it seemed to matter now, because I couldn’t have been happier to see them happy. I didn’t know whether their favorite food had changed from mint chocolate chip ice cream to something else. I didn’t know if someone else had broken their heart before Camilla came along. When I’d first arrived back in Shearwater, they’d asked me if I even wanted to stay, and I’d said yes, but had so many reservations, because was I returning to the same place, the same people? Everyone had changed and grown.
I hadn’t stopped loving them, though, and if I stayed there’d be time to find out about favorite foods and past flames.
I supposed I did want to stay.
Maybe, if everything worked out, I could.
By the time Fae made it to the podium, tears streamed down Camilla’s face. Fae had come prepared and pulled tissues from the pockets of their skirt. When it came time to exchange vows, Fae’s came in theform of a stack of cards thick as a dictionary and secured with an elastic band. They looked askance at the guests and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t read them all,” and everyone laughed. “This is how many attempts it took for me to write my vows. I wanted them to be perfect. Because you’re perfect.”
Which set Camilla off crying again.
