uld do. He didn’t seem to understand it as much as I did.
Rolling the window down, I leaned out to press a button on the small metal box with a speaker that sat outside the gates.
“Conner Estate,” a male spoke briskly. “What can I help you with?”
“Um.” I bit my lip, unsure of what to say exactly. I had no idea if Alfie had told any of his staff around his estate to expect a fleeing bride. “My name is Molly. I’m sort of a friend of Alfie who gave me perm—”
“Come inside, love. Mr. Conner called us about ten minutes ago.”
Buzz.
I stared at the box in surprise. The gates swung open a second later as I rolled the window up to slowly drive up the curve of the driveway. A butler stood proudly on the front steps in front of a large oak door when I parked next to what appeared to be a detached sort of garage and shop. There was a buzz of energy around the estate when I climbed nervously out of the car to stand in front of the butler who didn’t seem to be phased by anything
“My name is William,” he said, nodding as I approached. “I am Alfie’s personal butler and assistant when he needs it.”
“Molly,” I said, gathering the skirts of my dress. “So, Alfie told you I was coming?”
“Yes. He explained the situation over the phone.”
He didn’t say anything else on the matter. I looked up at the four-story stone house with a wraparound porch filled with freshly potted flowers. It was beautiful, with arched windows and a sloped roof.
I followed William in through the front door into the spacious foyer. It smelled clean and fresh as I caught a glance of a maid walking upstairs before disappearing into a hallway with folded towels. There were various antiques and paintings throughout the foyer while William led me to the stairs.
“We have a guest room here ready for you,” William said, still brisk. “The staff and I will be leaving here shortly, so you will have some time for yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said.
We walked along the hallway to the very end where a maid emerged from a room with a smile. She nodded briefly at me before continuing down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. The guest room felt like a suite from its expensive furniture and spacious room with even a large guest bathroom. A fire already crackled in the fireplace near a balcony that over looked sprawling green acres.
I found myself letting out a trembling breath when William gestured to a pile of robes on the end of the bed
“I’m afraid we don’t have any female clothes here,” he said, but I didn’t find that regretful. At least I knew Alfie didn’t have women staying the night here on a usual basis. “Mr. Conner confirmed he would be here in the morning with your bags. He is driving your maid of honor to the airport.”
“Right,” I said. A part of me wished I was in the car listening to them talk about Harry. Knowing Peyton, it was humorous and horrible at the same time. “Thank you. I appreciate all the help.”
William bowed a bit stiffly. “You’re welcome. If there is anything you need, there is a list of our numbers in the kitchen.”
He left without saying another word. I let the skirts of my dress drop down to trail along the swept hardwood floors. It smelled of fresh sheets and soap in the room. The chill of the entire day fell away as I stood in front of the fireplace with my hands extended forward to warm them.
I listened to the staff leave the house before I grabbed a large fuzzy robe from the end of the bed. A suffocating wave of emotions crashed over me when I stepped into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I looked like the bride I had hoped I would be. I had spent months planning every detail of this wedding.
Bitterness tore me from the inside. I reached up with a trembling hand to rip out the veil clipped into my hair. I watched as it fluttered to the ground along with some strands of my hair attached. The butterfly and flower pins were next on the floor.
I stripped out of everything until I stood bare in front of the mirror with those cursed salty tears trailing down my cheeks.
“Stupid,” I whispered, wiping at my face. “You’re stupid, Molly. You’re stupid to be crying over him.”
Slipping into the robe, I heard the distant trill of a text message from inside the pile of white fabric, lace, and my undergarments. Peyton had brought my cell phone on her way out to tell me what had happened. It was the one thing that I had on me besides my wedding dress.
I stared down at Harry’s name on the touch screen with a twisting stomach as I read the message. You realize how fucking shitty it was of you to do that to all of our guests? For Christ’s sake, Molly. Your parents and friends flew into England to see this wedding! What the hell is wrong with you?
“Nothing is wrong with me,” I snapped, and then deleted the message along with Harry’s number. “I’m not the one who did this to us.”
Pretentious. That was the only word I could think of as I knotted the robe tightly around my waist. I left the bathroom to explore the rest of Alfie’s house curiously, but to also distract myself. I paused in front of a series of photographs hanging artfully on the wall. Many of them were of Alfie when he was a little boy. I smiled up at the sight of his familiar mischievous smile and sparkling eyes. A few photographs were of him alone, but there were a few of him with a tall and dark-haired man that I assumed was Alfie’s father. I dimly remembered Harry mentioning that Alfie’s father had passed when he was in Uni with Alfie. It had been a hard death, and I could see why. The small little boy appeared to very happy sitting on the knobby knees of his father.
No mother though. I frowned up at the pictures as I scanned them for a maternal face, but found nothing. I couldn’t remember either if Harry mentioned anything about Alfie’s mother either. In a very strange way, I knew intimate details about Alfie that the general public didn’t know about.
I startled in surprise when my phone vibrated from the pocket of the robe. To my relief, it was Peyton calling.