A second message appeared immediately after.
Cleo: The swans have escaped! One of them is chasing an influencer through the garden!
I stared at the screen for half a second before a snort escaped me, sudden and completely uncontrollable.
Noah looked over at the phone, then back at me, a smile flashing across his face.
“Well,” he said dryly, “that feels on brand for tonight.”
Chapter Fourteen
The last of the cars had already crunched down the gravel drive, their headlights dancing through the trees before fading into the dark.
The welcome party was officially over, guests who weren’t staying on the estate had said their goodbyes, and the rest had drifted inside for nightcaps or polite yawns.
The terrace felt almost magical now that it was empty, the fairy lights still glowing, candles flickering in the warm breeze, linen napkins askew from too much laughter and Chardonnay.
I stepped outside for a break, pretending it was to double-check something. In truth, I needed just five minutes without anyone asking where the band’s bass player had gone or whether we had a backup corkscrew.
I stared out at the view. The stars were in proper show off mode tonight, scattered across the sky like someone had dropped a box of diamonds.
That’s when I saw Caroline, sitting on the steps, heels discarded beside her, an untouched glass of champagne at her elbow.
The glow from inside caught in her hair, turning it to pale copper, but the strain in her expression said the evening hadn’t gone as smoothly for her as it had seemed from the outside.
This is not a good sign.
This is, in fact, the opposite of a good sign.
I checked around for James but couldn’t spot him anywhere. Inside, the table he’d been sitting at earlier was now occupied only by Lucas, nursing a drink beside a small collection of abandoned glasses glittering in the candlelight like evidence of several questionable decisions.
“Mind if I join you?” I asked, stepping out onto the boards.
She startled slightly, then smiled, polite, practiced. “Of course not. I was just… getting some air.”
Her voice was steady, but her hands betrayed her, one thumb worrying the edge of her dress until the silk began to fray.
I lowered myself onto the step beside her, keeping a respectable distance. “It’s beautiful out here. The calm before the big day.”
She hummed gently, but it was a brittle sound. “Calm. That’s generous. I think my mother’s still inside editing my father’s speech, something about removing ‘unnecessary sentimentality.’”
“Margaret does seem to have a talent for logistics,” I said lightly.
“She has a talent for control,” Caroline corrected sharply, then immediately winced, as if she’d said too much. “Sorry. That sounded ungrateful.”
“Not at all,” I said. “Every family has its… dynamics.”
She stared out towards the dark horizon and took a sip of her champagne. “I know she means well. She always does. But sometimes I feel like the wedding is only another opportunity for her to impress my grandmother. And I’m just a guest who happens to be in the photos.”
I hesitated before asking, “Lady Beaumont?”
Caroline gave a small, humourless laugh. “Yes.TheLady Victoria Beaumont. She prefers the title, even though no one’s used it in years. She’s very formidable.”
There was an affection buried somewhere in her tone, but also something like fatigue.
She paused, running her thumb over her hand. “It’s not even about the wedding itself. It’s what it represents. My parents’ marriage has always been carefully maintained. My father built the family name, but my mother has kept it spotless. She learntfrom my grandmother to treat reputation like a treasure. If you don’t polish it, it dulls but polish it too much and it cracks.”
Her tone lowered, reflective. “James doesn’t come from that world. He’s self-made, and proud of it. That makes him risky in my mother’s eyes. She keeps trying to guide him, to make sure he understands what’s expected. As if success only really counts if it comes with a pedigree.”
