Heirly Ever After, Vernon, Magan [best thriller novels to read .txt] 📗

“Thank you, sir. Wouldn’t want these to topple before getting them to the manor.”

I froze at his words.

“Everything okay? Anything slip?” the man asked, checking over the boxes, all still in their little perfect place.

“No. Fine. Just didn’t think the manor would be ordering from a local bakery.”

He smiled as he pulled the cart, and I followed. “Lord Gavin wanted to make sure all of the local shops were involved.”

“Really?” I asked, not sure I heard his words right. Were they all comping him? Why would he even do that?

“Ah, him and Lady Natalie have been coming in for tastings here and then they go right next door to the florist, each time making sure to buy the local sweets to bring back for the workers at the manor.”

“That sounds lovely.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but I had a hard time believing my cousin who never smiled would do something like that.

I helped get the cart the rest of the way over the cobblestone until he was at the big white van.

“Thank you for your help, sir. Sorry, I didn’t get your name, but maybe I’ll see you at the wedding this weekend.”

Doubt that.

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Whole town is open to go on the property. I don’t know if I’m more excited to see the actual manor or the dogs myself.”

My ears perked up.

Surely, I couldn’t have heard him right.

The entire town was invited for a noble wedding?

“Sorry, I’m not from around here. But did they post a bulletin or something and let everyone know it was an open wedding?”

The man laughed again, shaking his head as he started loading up the boxes. “Social media. Personal invitations to everyone in the shops. You name it and Lord Gavin has done it. I don’t say this just because he hired us, but he and Lady Natalie have done so much more for this town than any of us thought possible.”

My throat rang dry and I couldn’t speak, so I only nodded before waving and heading back in the other direction.

Webley was a Cotswold fairytale town with its little shops and cobblestone streets. So many times, I’d Googled the place and always held such contempt with how perfect it seemed. Looking in the window of the floral shop, at least half a dozen ladies ran around, laughing as they put together arrangements of white roses.

Wedding flowers?

Was the baker telling the truth?

Leaning against the brick of a building, I parked my suitcase and pulled out my phone. I still hadn’t responded to Blair, but I glazed over her messages, leaving them on read, before I pulled up my browser. One search for Webley, England, and a few of the usual social media sites popped up.

I didn’t remember those being there a year ago.

Before Natalie had come to curate the manor.

Now there were dozens of posts from the historical society with photos of the different rooms. And even more recent photos of dog groomers coming in to prep the animals for the big day or local tailors measuring Lord Gavin and Lord Edwin for their suits.

Shite.

The man was right.

My cousin and his bride were sharing their day not just with nobility and family, but with the whole town. After an entire life of hearing how selfish and peacock-like the English side of our family was, I couldn’t believe it. But pictures spoke a thousand words, and these told a different story than what I’d been told.

I should have stopped there, yet when I swiped my thumb down the screen, a flash of auburn caught my eye.

Right there on the page was a photo of Madison and me in the stables.

They must have had a photographer following the wedding party guests.

Normally I would be right pissed about someone doing that, but as I stared closer, I realized it was the only photo I had of her. Of us. We both appeared so bloody happy as we stood in front of the horse.

My hand was on hers as we brushed over the horse’s snout.

That smile. The one that could light up an entire room.

And it was directed right at my own blasted smile.

Lady Natalie’s sister, Madison, and her date, Laird Lachlan MacWebley III of MacWebley, Scotland, cousin of the groom, enjoying the horses as they prepare for wedding festivities.

My eyes widened as I read over the small paragraph again and again.

They mentioned who I was?

They weren’t hiding me?

My chest ached as I leaned my head back against the cool brick wall.

Madison.

Gavin had said as much during our talk on the veranda. He didn’t want Madison hurt, because it would hurt Natalie and their mom, and this was his family now. Or would be officially in a couple days.

I let my head fall back against the brick wall.

How could I have made such a mess?

I put my phone back in my pocket and felt the edge of something inside. I pulled it and found the solicitor’s card.

No going back now.

There was a meeting I needed to have.

Webley was relatively small, so it didn’t take long to find Rodrick’s office right next door to the local post. But it was as if my feet were stuck in wet cement and I was glued to the spot right in front of the florist across the street.

People walked in front of me, smiling and talking like they didn’t have a care in the world.

This was Webley, England. It really was like a darn fairytale town.

As if Blair knew she could burst my bubble, my phone rang, her face on the screen.

Shite.

I blew out a breath.

I guessed I couldn’t ignore her forever.

Sliding my phone unlocked, I put it to my ear as I pushed off the wall and started walking again toward my original destination.

“Finally. Where the hell have you been?” she hissed.

“Been busy. Your little texts got to Madison, and I have a feeling soon I’ll have a horde of guards coming after me as the odd duck cousin trying to take over the manor.”

“Oh.”

I groaned. “Really?