“Any sign?”
I snapped a photo of the reunited couple and sent it back.
“Found her. Alive. Emotional. She wants to come home.”
His reply came instantly:
“Good. Let’s bring her back before Mrs Harrington turns my vineyard into a crime scene.”
I smiled.
Caroline was safe.
For now, the wedding was back on track.
But as we walked towards the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that only one piece of this puzzle had been solved.
The moment the SUV rolled up the long gravel drive, Noah was already striding towards us, brow furrowed in concentration and relief. He reached the car just as James helped Caroline out, his arm around her in a way that made everything in him look steadier, anchored.
“She’s okay?” Noah asked.
James nodded. “She’s okay.”
Caroline gave a small, apologetic wave. “Sorry for the panic.”
“Don’t apologise,” Noah said gently. “You needed to escape.”
From inside the building, someone shrieked something unintelligible that sounded likemy baby, confirming my suspicion.
Noah sighed, then glanced behind us. “Ethan didn’t come back.”
James stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“He left the estate early this morning,” Noah said. “Told one of the groundskeepers he needed to clear his head. He hasn’t been seen since.”
Caroline’s face tightened with fresh discomfort, but James stepped protectively closer, jaw ticking once in irritation, not fear now, but anger.
“Well,” he said evenly, “maybe that’s for the best.”
There was a finality in his tone. A closing of a door. We all felt it.
As Margaret began a full opera-level wail from the foyer, “CAROLINE! MY ANGEL! MY PRECIOUS GIRL!”, James winced almost imperceptibly.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he murmured to Caroline. “Emma will run interference.”
Emma, to her credit, straightened up like a soldier heading into battle. “I’ll handle it,” she said with the grim resolve of someone prepared to lose a limb in combat.
Caroline squeezed my arm before heading inside with Emma, taking her hand, and bracing for impact.
James watched her go, expression relieved and stormy all at once.
Then he turned to Noah.
“Can I talk to you? Just for a minute?”
I drifted a few steps away as the two men moved off, staying within sight but far enough from the house to speak without anyone overhearing.
They’d been friends for years. You could see it in the way Noah’s posture shifted, steadier, more attentive, and the way James seemed like he was about to say something he’d been carrying tightly against his chest.
