The Hawksley wedding might have been low–key, but within the intimate banquet hall–reserved for close friends and family–it was the pinnacle of elegance and luxury. Anyone with ties to the Hawksleys was, by nature, a person of considerable social grace.
Everyone understood precisely what this extravagance signified: the Hawksleys were making it clear just how much they valued their new daughter–in–law. Now that Justin was head of the family, anyone hoping to stay in the Hawksleys‘ good graces knew better than to offend Mrs. Hawksley.
As Edith glanced around the room, she noticed the warmth in the eyes of nearly everyone she met. Their kindness seemed to extend naturally to Jayne as well, who stood quietly at her side.
Clutching her bouquet of blush roses, Edith couldn’t help but think back to her wedding with Beckett. The Sumner guest list had been so long, there hadn’t been enough tables for everyone. Beckett had grumbled about it at the time, complaining that her family had brought too many people. The Vance relatives, in turn, were irritated that Sumner guests had taken their
seats.
Comparing that day to this one, Edith felt a twinge of irony–how much easier things seemed when both families truly cared.
A young flower girl, eyes bright with innocence, gently held onto the train of Edith’s dress. The little girl squeezed her hand tightly. Edith assumed something in the room had caught the child’s attention, so she bent down and whispered kindly, “What is it, sweetheart?”
The girl beamed, squinting up at her, and pointed down the aisle. “Don’t worry, big sister. Someone’s coming to walk you down the aisle.”
Edith lifted her gaze, startled, and saw someone she hadn’t met in over a year–her father, Kearney.
For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
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Instinctively, she glanced around for Jayne.
Jayne gave her a reassuring smile and subtly pointed toward Justin, silently telling Edith that this was all his doing.
Only then did Edith allow herself to believe it–her father truly was there, striding toward her.
Kearney walked up beside her, his steps measured and dignified. The past year had streaked his once–black hair with gray at the temples, but his gentle, scholarly demeanor remained unchanged. In many ways, he was just as she remembered–yet, standing tall in her heels, Edith suddenly realized her father no longer seemed quite as towering as he once had.
This year had been hard on all of them: on Jayne, on Edith, and—perhaps most of all–on Kearney. The thought of everything her father had endured made Edith’s eyes burn with tears.
Through her veil, Kearney noticed his precious daughter’s eyes brimming. He hurried to comfort her, his voice soft and teasing. “Come now, darling, don’t start crying. If you ruin your makeup, even your pretty face won’t save you. Can’t let you get away with that, can we?”
Edith couldn’t help but laugh, the tears retreating as she smiled at his gentle humor.
Elsewhere among the guests, Thorpe glanced down at the small
container of medicine on the table in front of him, lowering his voice as he leaned toward Henson. “Do you have any idea how much effort Justin put in to get Mr. Sumner to attend this wedding?”
Henson, who’d always thought of Justin as someone who never needed to try too hard for anything, found it hard to imagine exactly what “a lot of effort” meant in this case.
“Come on. No matter how hard it was, who in Northcrest would dare turn down the Hawksleys?” Henson arched an eyebrow, looking amused and relaxed.
Thorpe gave a sardonic snort. “You know Connor Grant, right? Justin’s
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never gotten along with him. Well, Connor’s the one who convinced Mr. Sumner to show up. Makes you wonder–did Justin have to swallow his pride for once?”
That got Henson’s attention. “Really? Now I’ve got to ask Connor just what that looked like. I bet it was a sight.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.