“Quite,” Margaret said coolly. “Then we understand one another.”
She reached out and set the velvet box on the table.
Deep navy, the size of both her hands, with worn corners that hinted at age and a metallic clasp that gleamed like it had been polished for the occasion. The kind of box that carried history, and a bit of pressure, even before it was opened.
Margaret’s composure loosened, though her tone stayed crisp. “It was loaned to me from my mother on my wedding day. She’d received it from my father, the Duke of Beaumont. It’s been in the family for generations. You can still see his initials engraved on the back, though they’ve faded over time.”
She opened the box slowly, reverently. Nestled inside was a brooch that seemed to glow from within, diamonds and pearls woven through delicate gold filigree, each gem catching the light like it was alive.
The design was unlike anything I’d ever seen: a swirling pattern that almost resembled a wave mid-crest, its golden edges curling around the pearls like sea foam.
Tiny leaves, or perhaps feathers, branched out from the centre in perfect symmetry, the craftsmanship so precise it could only have been handmade. It was the kind of piece that had a story, something too personal, too intricate, to have been mass-produced.
As Margaret tilted it in the light, I caught a faint glimpse of engraving on the back, two intertwined letters, maybe anEand aT, worn thin by time. I blinked, and the image shifted,making them vanish again like they’d imagined themselves into existence.
“It’s beautiful,” I said quietly. “Really stunning.”
“It’s priceless,” Margaret corrected, her tone crisp, closing the lid with careful finality. “And it will be pinned to Caroline’s gown right before the ceremony. Until then, I would like you to keep it safe.”
“Of course,” I said, voice steady though my pulse quickened. “I’ll take care of it personally.”
“Good,” she said, with the faintest nod. “I know I can rely on your discretion.”
With that, she gathered her handbag and swept out, every step purposeful. Caroline lingered, smiling apologetically.
“She means well,” Caroline said gently. “Just… in a very particular way.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said. “Don’t worry, it’ll be safe with me.”
Caroline looked visibly relieved. “Thank you. Honestly, this wedding feels more like a board meeting than a love story. The brooch is just another prop in the family show.”
I smiled faintly. “Then we’ll make sure it shines.”
When she left, Cleo exhaled loudly and leaned towards the table. “That thing looks like it could fund a small nation.”
“Exactly why it needs proper storage,” I said, closing the lid carefully and holding the box in both hands. “I’ll see if Noah has a safe.”
Cleo grinned. “And now you have an excuse to see Noah again. Convenient.”
“It’s work,” I said firmly. “Purely professional.”
“Sure,” she said lightly. “Still, he’s very handsome.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Cleo tilted her head. “Really? Because I noticed immediately. He’s got that rugged confidence thing going on. The kind that makes you want to rip off his clothes.”
I felt a small, reluctant smile tug at my mouth. “Is it confidence, or arrogance?”
“Either works.” She smiled, slow and sly.
I stood, gathering my notes. “Well, I’m only here to run a wedding.”
“Of course you are,” she said sweetly. “So, want me to guard the royal jewels while you go flirt with Mr Vineyard?”
I gave her a look. “Keep the door locked. Don’t let anyone in. Not even if they say they just want to ‘have a peek.’”
She mock-saluted. “The heirloom and I will be right here. Bonding.”
