“Oh gaaaawd,” Katie moaned. “I’m not getting married.”
“Yes, you are,” Nate said. The assurance was echoed by Hannah, even if she sounded a bit less certain. “If I haveanythingto do about it, you are. We just have to compromise a little.”
Katie sniffed and chewed nervously on her thumbnail. “On what?”
“The venue,” Nate explained apologetically. “The chapel isn’t functional right now.”
She looked dismayed. “So we came all this way, and we can’t even get married here?”
“The chapel, no,” Nate said. “Here, yes.”
All the photos had been loaded onto his phone. Nate pulled it out of his pocket and tapped the album open. He flipped through the pictures with his thumb.
“Technically it’s even the Granshire,” he said. “It was built as a folly for the wife of one of the previous owners. Usually we’d have closed it up by now, since it’s only used during the summer months, but we had a late fair there this year, so I can have it ready for tomorrow without too much trouble.”
If he were honest, the photo he passed over the table wasn’t entirely representative of the current state of the folly. It had been taken at the height of summer, when it was set up for a wedding fair. In the image, morning sunlight streamed through elegantly draped swathes of pale silk and illuminated the weathered stone and a tray of silver-iced cupcakes. But right then there were tarps draped over the benches and puddles of water on the floor.
He could fix that, though.
“Oh,” Katie said. She blinked in surprise. “It’s beautiful.”
“Honestly, it’s one of our popular venues,” Nate said. “We just don’t like to book it for this time of the year because brides are usually booking a year before, and we don’t know what the weather will be like. This year, though….”
He gestured at the window, where the sun was still bright as it dipped toward the horizon. The Met Office claimed the next day would be even better, and the old wives said that cows wandering in the middle of the fields meant the same thing. He might be clutching at straws a bit.
Katie and Hannah put their heads together as they pored over the pictures.
“I’ve spoken to the florist,” Nate said. “He can change up your arrangements to make it look a little more… cultured wildflower and tie it into the setting. It is stunning up there for photos, between the folly and the cliffs. What do you think?”
The rapid-fire delivery of information left Katie on the back foot. She chewed her lip while her knee bounced under the table in a nervous jitter.
“I don’t know.”
Hannah nudged their shoulders together. “It looks lovely.”
“I have to ask Brad.”
“Brad won’t care as long as you’re happy.” Hannah squeezed Katie’s hand. “You’re going to get married.”
Tea arrived in three glass cups with a bowl of uneven brown sugar cubes. Nate left his black and unsweetened. It wasn’t his preference, but sweet and milky tea was soothing, and he needed to stay awake.
“Talk to Brad,” he said. “Just let me know what you decide. If you do go ahead, trust me, it will still be a fairy-tale day. I know this isn’t ideal, but it was unavoidable.”
Katie picked up her tea and sipped it. Her mouth twitched into a wry smile around the lip of the cup. “At least it explains what all the plumbers were doing here today.”
“We thought there was a convention,” Hannah chipped in.
“That would have been more convenient,” Nate said dryly. He glanced at his watch and grimaced at the time it told. Then he drained his tea, though the liquid was still hot enough to scorch his tongue, and left the gritty dregs on the table. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but I have to go and make some arrangements. You have my number.”
“And your phone,” Katie said dryly. She nudged it back over the table toward him. “Could you send me some of the pictures?”
“Of course.”
Nate lifted the phone and stood up. He wanted to find a sofa and have a nap like Max, but that wouldn’t get anything done.
“Let me know what you decide,” he said. “The Granshire—I—really hope you’ll let us fix this for you.”
He took his leave and headed out through the maze of tables. There was a new barista behind the counter, assiduously polishing the coffee machine. Nate paused at the till.
