I felt my throat tighten. “The Harrington family heirloom. The brooch Mrs Harrington asked me to look after. The one I told you I needed a safe for?”
For a second, Noah didn’t react. Then the colour drained from his face. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
For a long second, he just stared at me. “You’re telling me apricelessfamily heirloom has gone missing? Onmyproperty?”
I nodded, keeping my tone steady. “I kept it in my drawer. And there’s no sign of forced entry on my bedroom door, which was definitely locked.”
Noah let out a low curse, low and rough, before pacing a short, tight line across the room. “You realise the press are parked outside the driveway like vultures? If this gets out…”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “You couldn’t have picked a worse week for this.”
As if I’d scheduled it between the band rehearsal and dessert plating?
My spine snapped straight. “I didn’tpickit,” I said, heat creeping into my voice. “And for the record, I didn’tloseit. Someone took it.”
He turned sharply. “You think someone here stole it? My staff don’t steal, Holly.”
“And I don’t lose things,” I shot back before I could stop myself.
The air between us went taut, silence stretching thin.
He sighed, lowering his voice. “All right. Let’s not make this about blame. We both want the same thing.”
“Which is?”
“To find it,” he said simply. “Before anyone else notices. Especially the Harringtons. Or the photographers. Or God forbid, the lifestyle bloggers.”
I crossed my arms. “You’ll help me?”
“I don’t have a choice,” he said, his tone grim. “If word gets out that there’s been a theft at Langston Estate, I can kiss my reputation, and half my bookings, goodbye.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Didn’t mean it to be.” He started towards the main path, motioning for me to follow. “We’ll have to do a search. Let’s start with your room.”
Despite everything, a small, unwilling smile tugged at my lips. “Okay.”
For all his gruffness, there was something grounding about Noah, even when frustrated. The kind of person who seemed like he’d rather just fix the problem than talk about it.
Still, when he met my nervous gaze again, his tone softened. “We’ll find it, Holly.”
I nodded, looking over at him. “We have to.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Because if Mrs Harrington or the press catch wind before we do, we’ll both need new jobs.”
Chapter Nine
By ten-thirty, the estate was already alive with the unmistakable sounds of wedding prep. Laughter spilled from the guest wing as the women gathered for their hair and makeup trials in Caroline’s suite, the hum of blow-dryers rising and falling like background music.
Someone squealed, Sophie, by the sound of it, “No, absolutely not. I amnotdoing curls again. Last time I looked like a fluffy poodle.”
“Sweetheart. Embrace it. At this price point, we commit.”
A chorus of giggles followed, the kind that could only come from a room full of women fuelled by mimosas, hairspray, and low-level gossip.
“Just remember,” Caroline said, mock-serious, “if anyone tags me in an unapproved photo before the wedding, I will disown all of you.”
