Caroline elbowed him lightly. “Yes, truly, thank you, Holly. You’ve been extraordinary.”
I nodded, letting the gratitude settle over me. It had been a long week, emotionally fraught, overwhelming, beautiful, and hearing the sincerity in Caroline’s voice felt like the final piece clicking into place.
Margaret approached the couple with Richard in tow, her posture as regal as ever, spine straight enough to pass a military inspection.
She stopped in front of Caroline and James, taking them both in with a critical sweep of her eyes. For a terrifying second, I thought she might find something to adjust on Caroline’s dress, but instead she reached out, two gloved hands resting lightly on her daughter’s arms.
“Well,” Margaret said, her voice crisp and cool as chardonnay, “I suppose this is it.”
Caroline smiled, a grounded smile that made her look older and stronger than she had at the start of the week. “It is.”
Margaret inhaled, just a little too sharply. “You were… composed today,” she said. “Poised. Exactly as you should be.”
Richard nodded beside her, patting James awkwardly on the back. “Proud of you both. Safe travels, now.”
Margaret turned to James then, assessing him with the intensity of someone deciding whether a vintage wine belonged in her collection. After a long pause, she inclined her head. “You take care of her.”
“I will,” James said, firm and certain.
A flicker, so slight it could have been imagined, passed over Margaret’s face. Something like trust. Or surrender. Or the uncomfortable awareness that her daughter no longer needed her approval to stand tall.
“We’ll see you when you return,” she said, stepping back with the grace of someone concluding a royal audience.
As Margaret and Richard moved towards the waiting car, Elaine came forward, hands already trembling. She stopped right in front of James, her son towering over her, yet somehow looking small in the face of her emotion.
“Oh, love,” she breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek with one tender hand. “You were wonderful today. Truly wonderful. Your dad would have been so proud.”
James’ shoulders dropped, the tension of the entire week melting just a little. “Thanks, Mum.”
She blinked rapidly, fighting tears. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. She’s… she’s good for you, James. Better than I ever hoped.”
James pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder for a brief, unguarded moment. “I love you.”
“And I you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his. “Now off you go before I embarrass us all.”
Caroline joined them, folding into Elaine’s arms with the ease of someone who had been loved long before she knew it.
“You take care of each other,” Elaine said, smoothing a hand over Caroline’s hair. “That’s all that matters.”
As they stepped back, Elaine smiled at them the way only a mother can, full of pride, full of love, and full of a lifetime of hopes she couldn’t fit into words.
The couple turned towards the sparkler tunnel, ready for their grand exit.
Lady Beaumont observed the scene from a few steps away, her posture regal, her gown on point despite the late hour. When our eyes met, she inclined her head, an elegant acknowledgement that carried far more weight than words.
And behind her, Sophie and Lucas stood together, their hands touching, speaking together in that tentative way people do when something new is unfolding and both of them know it.
“All right,” I said, clapping my hands lightly. “It’s time.”
Caroline and James allowed me to guide them through the marquee entrance, stepping out onto the lawn where the guests held their unlit sparklers like a guard of honour.
The DJ, the famous one from Melbourne that usually gets booked at private events in Singapore and Mykonos, shifted the playlist into a slow acoustic number that made the whole scene feel even more impossibly curated.
Luca raised his camera. Cleo raised her lighter. And then, at my signal, she ignited the first sparkler, followed by the rest in a cascading wave of gold and silver.
Caroline gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh. It’s beautiful.”
“Go,” I whispered. “Before someone…”
