I need to find someone who makes sense.
Hayley
I burst back into the reception like a woman on a life-or-death mission, or at least a very dramatic side quest that could make or break the entire weekend.
The music, the chatter, the clink of glasses all hit me at once. I make a beeline for the nearest table, grab a half-full flute of Prosecco that definitely isn’t mine, and down it in one go.
Karl appears out of nowhere, hands in his pockets, grin firmly in place.
“Easy, Cinderella,” he drawls. “You’ll end up kissing a frog if you keep downing random drinks at midnight.”
I glare at him over the rim of the empty glass. “Not helpful.”
Karl raises an eyebrow, completely unbothered by my glare.
“Relax, I’m just trying to work out if you’re drinking to celebrate or commiserate. I’ve got a tenner riding on it with myself.”
I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”
He leans a hip against the table, annoyingly casual. “So, you gonna keep sprinting around the castle all night, or are you going to tell me what’s got you flustered like you’ve just been caught skinny-dipping in the moat during a ‘ye olde’boot camp?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure.” He grins, clearly not believing me for a second. “Funny, because your ‘fine’ looks exactly like the face you made last night, when Peacock suggested a group interpretive dance before dessert.”
I snort despite myself. “That was a traumatic experience.”
“Exactly. Which means something’s up. Spill.”
I set the glass down a little harder than necessary. “Nothing’s up. I just… needed air.”
“Funny, your earl just ran out of here to do exactly the same thing.”
My head whips up. “Tyler?”
He grins. “Knew that would get your attention.”
“Karl?”
“Alright, alright…” He holds up his hands, mock defensive. “Since I’m clearly not the leading man in this story, I’ll spill. I may or may not have just heard him kick my lovely little partner to the kerb for good.”
My brows shoot up. “Helen?”
“Yes, Nancy Drew, Helen.” He smirks. “I may or may not have been eavesdropping on Little Miss Mix-a-Lot trying it on with your man, and he may or may not have…”
“What, Karl?”
He grins, relishing every second of my wide-eyed panic. “Basically, declared his love for you.”
I freeze. My stomach drops through the floor.Love? He said love? He used the L-word?
“Yep. My thoughts exactly.” He mimes dropping a mic, then jerks his chin toward the garden. “Now go. Before he broods himself into a full-on Tudor tragedy.”
My legs are already moving before my brain catches up.
“Attagirl!” Karl calls out. “Try not to trip over your dignity!”
Too late, pretty sure that went flying somewhere back at the welcome drinks. My skirt is hiked to an entirely indecent level, satin swishing around my knees as I sprint across the lawn like I’m being chased by an overenthusiastic wedding planner.
