Chapter Thirty-One

The next day at Silvercrest Manor. The day of Pippa and Nick’s wedding…

T he sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden of their grandfather’s ancestral estate, where Pippa’s and Nick’s wedding was taking place. Bea had donned her best gown, but she’d never felt worse. Alfie hadn’t spoken to her on the ride home from the Langleys even though she’d showed him that she’d risk everything to be with him just for being in the carriage with him. She felt his rejection like a saber in her chest.

The medieval castle stood majestically, its ancient turrets seemingly smiling down on the joyous occasion unfolding in the garden below. Pippa’s and Nick’s wedding was a vision of romance and timeless beauty. The grounds were exquisite, under a brilliant canopy of white silk festooned with garlands of fragrant roses and delicate ivy. The canopy fluttered gently in the soft breeze, its elegant drapes framing the scene with a sense of aristocratic grace.

A pristine white carpet had been laid out, stretching from the castle’s grand chapel to the heart of the garden, where the couple would exchange their vows. Each step along this aisle was adorned with petals from freshly picked blossoms, their colors a vibrant contrast against the pure white path. The perspective of the entire setup was carefully aligned to look onto the orchard beyond, its rows of fruit-laden trees offering a picturesque backdrop of natural splendor.

Guests, seated in neat rows on either side of the carpet, looked on with anticipation as Pippa appeared at the entrance, her arm hooked into Alfie’s, her gown shimmering like a cascade of moonlit water. She moved forward, each step measured and graceful, the soft rustle of her dress mingling with the gentle murmur of the gathered witnesses. Bea’s breath hitched as Alfie led Pippa down the aisle. She wasn’t jealous of Pippa for there was no better man to escort her beloved cousin. But Bea realized that she wanted to be a bride. She was ready to be a bride. Alfie’s bride.

And yet, he avoided her gaze, blinking profusely.

Nick waited under the canopy, his eyes locked onto Pippa with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and devotion.

When Pippa had arrived at the altar and handed Bea her bouquet, Bea stood beside Pippa, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions as she witnessed her cousin’s moment of bliss. The sun bathed the entire scene in a golden glow, casting dappled shadows through the trees and adding a touch of magic to the air. The scent of roses mingled with the faint aroma of ripening fruit from the orchard, creating an atmosphere of serene enchantment. It was a perfect wedding.

And one of the worst moments in Bea’s life.

The orchids in Pippa’s bouquet were lovely, and a smattering of fuchsia orchids had been braided into her blond hair. Bea felt the soft rustle of her dress as she stood beside Pippa, the fabric whispering against her skin with every slight movement. She tried to focus on the beauty of the moment—the delicate lace of Pippa’s gown, the way Nick looked at his bride with absolute adoration, and the melodic strains of the string quartet playing nearby.

Bea’s heart ached with each passing second. She could feel Alfie’s presence next to her, a silent, impenetrable wall. His refusal to speak to her since last night gnawed at her, turning every breath into a quiet struggle. The sight of Pippa and Nick exchanging vows, their faces radiant with love, only made the pain sharper.

“I, Nicholas Folsham, take thee, Philippa Mae Pemberton, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” Nick spoke clearly and with reverence, as if Pippa were the only person there.

They were standing before an altar, much like Bea and Alfie were now, but the emotions in her heart were a convoluted mess of joy for her friends and a deep, searing sorrow for herself.

Bea’s breath hitched as Pippa began to speak her vows, her voice trembling with emotion. The words hung in the air like a delicate thread spun from the deepest parts of her heart. “I, Pippa, take thee, Nick, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.”

Pippa’s voice cracked on the word “obey,” her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Bea felt the floodgates within her own heart burst open, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched her cousin’s raw display of love and vulnerability. The beauty of the moment was almost too much to bear, magnifying the ache in her own heart.

She glanced around, seeking solace in the familiar faces of friends and loved ones. Wendy stood nearby, dabbing at her eyes with a delicate lace handkerchief, her face soft with empathy and shared joy for her brother’s bliss. On either side of Wendy stood Felix and Andre, their expressions solemn yet touched by the moment’s significance. Felix’s arm was comforting Wendy as she hooked hers into his, while Andre held his hands clasped in front of him, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Only Alfie stood apart, a solitary figure, his posture rigid and unyielding just like in the carriage the previous night. He faced Bea, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that both shattered her and held her together. The distance between them felt insurmountable, a space filled with all the words left unsaid. The sight of him standing there, alone and silent, amplified the pain in her chest until it was nearly unbearable.

Alfie’s presence was a silent echo of the turmoil within Bea. As the ceremony began and the vows were spoken, the world seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the profound declarations of love and commitment. Bea struggled to maintain her composure, the beauty of the moment only heightening her inner turmoil. She glanced toward the guests and suddenly had to blink. Oh no! She looked again. It couldn’t be. But it was true, she saw her parents amid the sea of faces.

When they arrived home, the servants must have told them about Pippa’s wedding, and they’d rushed—just in time, she was sure they told one another—to see it. To see her. Their sudden appearance after three long years felt like a fresh wound, reminding her of how far she still had to go to find her own happiness.

The gasps, then thunderous applause, that followed the couple’s kiss was a chorus of joy that resonated through the garden and beyond. When Pippa and Nick kissed, Bea caught Alfie’s eyes, and what she saw there was pain.

Her parents looming in the rows of guests meant her time was up. The world around her continued to celebrate, but inside, her heart ached with unresolved longing and new uncertainties brought by their unexpected arrival.

Bea allowed herself to fully feel the weight of the moment, each tear that fell a testament to the torrent of emotions coursing through her. She wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between her and Alfie, but something held her back—perhaps it was pride, perhaps fear. Instead, she stood there, amidst the sea of joy and celebration, feeling as though her world was crumbling. They’d caught her at a wedding ceremony that wasn’t her own and she was nowhere near the goal they’d set for her.

After Pippa and Nick sealed their vows with a kiss, the garden erupted in applause once more. Bea clapped along, but her heart wasn’t in it. She could see the happiness on everyone’s faces, yet her own sorrow painted everything in the gray shades of despair. When she met her mother’s gaze at the edge of the crowd, her heart sank even further. Her parents had arrived just when she felt most vulnerable and farthest from achieving her dreams.

The juxtaposition of the joyous wedding and her internal turmoil was almost too much to bear. Bea tried to steady herself, to focus on the happiness of the occasion, but the presence of her parents and the unresolved tension with Alfie weighed heavily on her soul. She stood there, feeling both part of and apart from the celebration, as the world around her continued to move forward, leaving her to navigate the labyrinth of her own emotions.

She turned her eyes to the sea of wedding guests, seeking distraction, and then she saw them—a sudden bustle at the edge of the crowd. Her parents were coming toward her. Bea’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t seen them in three years, and there they were, looking exactly as she remembered though perhaps a bit older. Her mother’s hair was still neatly pinned as always, and her father’s stern yet loving gaze scanned the gathering as if he was in charge. They were here, at Pippa’s and Nick’s wedding, but all Bea could think about was how far she felt from finding her own happiness and how much she’d surely disappoint her parents.

A wave of panic surged through her. She wasn’t ready for this reunion, not now, when she felt so broken and vulnerable. She tried to steady herself, to push back the tears that threatened to spill over. The joyful celebration around her felt like a cruel contrast to the turmoil inside her heart.

She ran.