“Aren’t you lovely?” Mrs. Neilfellow says. “You pixies are just adorable.”
She says it warmly, oblivious to how condescending she sounds. Apparently Ash comes by his sparkling personality honestly.
Rowan looks at me, silently apologizing. I just hope he doesn’t try to defend me. That will only make this worse.
“I expect you’ve been busy prepping your tea garden for my party,” she says, all business now. “I had noticed the upkeepslipping toward the end of your aunt’s life. Understandable, of course. But I do hope you’ll ensure it’s inpristineorder for my soirée. I have several accomplished people on the guest list, so there is a bit of pressure.”
Her party makes me think of gnomes. And as always, gnomes make me think of doom, gloom, and imminent disaster.
“You’re here to talk about the party?” Rowan asks. “That’s fine, but it will have to wait until we’re closed. Would you like to schedule an appointment?”
His cool tone has me wincing, but his aunt is undaunted, making me wonder if this is how they talk to each other. “Of course, darling,” she says, sounding genuinely affectionate. “Some other time will be fine. We’re not here to chat about that—I just thought I’d mention it. Small talk, you know.”
“Then why are you here?” Rowan asks, glancing at Keira, uneasy.
“We need to pin down a date for the wedding. I’m assuming you’ll want to book the festival grounds again, which is just fine, but we’ll need a florist, and I’ll have to contact my caterer. There are invitations to think of, and we needat leasttwo months’ notice for the cake if we want Sean Carter again, and of course, we do. We’ll only get him with that short notice because of a favor I’ve retained over the years. Thank goodness you’ve returned because I doubt Ash will use it, and I’m afraid Anna is too broken to find a suitable match.” She laughs brightly. “I’m sure we’ll have to marry her off at Town Hall to save face.”
“Mom,” Ash says sharply.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s true. You know your sister has a disadvantage. What respectable man is going to want a wife with broken magic to pass on to their children? Comes from your father’s side, you know. I should have known better, though I don’t regret marrying him; may he rest in peace. I hopedwe could find her a nice high fae man, but we high fae are a discerning lot, and Anna is…well. We all know.”
She sighs before she continues, “No, for Anna, the best we can hope for at this point is a mage, and I refuse to embarrass her by pretending we’re happy about it. At least I might get a grand mage out of it, though I’m not holding my breath. She’s getting rather old.”
Everything—and I do mean everything—that comes out of the woman’s mouth is horrifying.
Rowan makes a noise as though he’s trying to find words, but he shakes his head like he doesn’t know where to begin. He runs his hand over his face, exasperated and angry, and then his eyes cut to Keira. “Whatwedding?”
“Our wedding,” Keira says boldly. “You’re back to yourself, and I’ve decided to forgive you for the grief and humiliation you put me through. Now it’s time to get your life back on track. Playing tea sommelier was cute while you were in high school, but you’re a thirty-year-old man now. It’s time you grow up.”
Rowan drops his hand. His voice almost emotionless, he says, “I’m not marrying you, Keira.”
She grasps the counter and leans forward, boldly meeting his eyes. “Yes, Rowan.You are.”
Chapter 7
The Good Tea is Upstairs
Ifocus on Keira’s nails. They’re perfectly shaped and gel-painted with a sophisticated pale pink.
Even her manicure makes me feel inadequate.
“Keira’s right, Rowan,” Mrs. Neilfellow says. “And we areoverjoyedthat she is willing to let bygones be bygones and move forward. Now, Anna mentioned that you’d like to return to Mablemyer. I’ve talked to the college and paid the tuition for your final year. All I ask in exchange is for you to pick up where you left off. We lost so much time.” She pleads him with her eyes. “Let’s not waste any more.”
“I…” Rowan looks gobsmacked. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to. I want nothing more than to see you succeed.” Passionately, she adds, “You know that, darling.”
He exhales heavily. “I do.”
I was right when I said the Neilfellow’s issues stemmed from more than a lack of hugs. It’s honestly a miracle this woman’s children are as stable as they are.
“All right,” Mrs. Neilfellow says, as if Rowan’s response was an agreement. “A spring wedding is ideal, but we don’t want you getting cold feet and turning yourself into a bird again. So, we can’t wait that long. Winter is abysmal, so that leavesfall. Obviously, that doesn’t give us much time, but if we work fast, I believe we could hold the wedding the first weekend of October. We’ll have to hope for mild weather, though. An early snowstorm could destroy everything.”
“We’ll have to think of a backup venue,” Keira says. “Just in case.”
“I suppose we could book the ballroom at the hotel.” Mrs. Neilfellow sniffs. “Though someone else will have to contact Mr. Eastwilden, the foul man, because I won’t do it after what he said at the Christmas gala in 2015.I won’t.”
“Enough,” Rowan says. “Keira and I are not getting married.”
