“My dear, you have to agree with me, this dish is an absolute masterpiece of spice! It’s like a fiery dance on my taste buds. It leaves me both exhilarated and… well, slightly terrified.”
His boisterous laughter felt like a torch set alight in the inner parts of her soul. Bridget bent her head and gritted her teeth, gripping the hem of her dress to keep herself from throwing her fork at his eye.
“Your Grace, we’re glad you appreciate our culinary adventure. We like to keep things interesting around here,” the Countess spoke again.
Bridget sighed at her mother’s attempt to normalize what was happening.
“Yes, we appreciate your kind words, Your Grace. We have grown used to the pleasure of experimenting with new flavors and indulging in the art of gastronomy.” Elliot smiled.
As Abel looked in Bridget’s direction again, sensing his sister’s growing frustration, Elliot cleared his throat with a nervous laugh and continued.
“Ahem, since we’re all here,” he began, his voice tinged with affection as his gaze lovingly fixed on Olivia, “allow me to announce the decisions Olivia and I have made for our upcoming nuptials.”
He laughed as his bride giggled and nodded. “We envision a very grand affair, filled with opulent decorations, a feast beyond what most have ever seen, and music that will make hearts soar.”
Olivia’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she interjected, “Yes, and we’ve decided on the most enchanting venue. It’s nestled amidst sprawling gardens.” Her smile was genuine as she stared at her husband-to-be. “Our love bloomed alongside those very flowers.”
“It did.” Elliot’s eyes told a multitude of stories as he smiled back at her. Then he let out another laugh and turned his eyes back to the rest of the table. “As I was saying, we’ve also decided to?—”
“While your vision is undoubtedly grand, may I offer a different perspective?”
The smiles at the table slowly faded as Abel cut him off with a raised eyebrow.
“Instead of a grand spectacle, you two should opt for a more intimate affair. A small gathering is much better. The testament of your love and joy would be cherished better by those closest to you.”
Elliot’s brow furrowed in surprise. His voice was steady but tinged with a hint of defiance as he replied, “While I appreciate your perspective, Olivia and I believe that our love should be celebrated with all those who have supported us throughout our journey.”
He met Abel’s gaze with determined eyes. “We’re not afraid to declare our love to all who can witness it. A grand wedding allows us to share our joy with a wider circle of loved ones.”
“You can certainly declare it after the wedding takes place.” Abel’s eyebrow rose higher as he faced Elliot head-on. “Iinsistmy sister has a small wedding, Lord Borthwell.”
The room fell into silence as tension hung in the air. Bridget caught sight of the tick in Elliot’s jaw, and she smiled, excited for someone else to go toe-to-toe with the pompous duke.
However, Olivia, the peacemaker, as Bridget had seen from her already, placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Elliot, my love, let us contemplate my brother’s suggestion. A small, intimate gathering does have its merits. Perhaps we can find a compromise that honors both our desires. We… shall consider it, Your Grace.”
Bridget wondered if it was merely a trick of the light, but there seemed to be an annoyance flashing behind Olivia’s eyes as she spoke to her brother.
“My hope is that my input is not just considered, but done.” Abel pointed his fork at his sister in a commanding manner before picking food off his plate again.
As the words hung in the air, Bridget’s eyes widened at his audacity.
“My apologies, Your Grace, but you seem to forget that it will not be you standing at the altar, ready to exchange vows and hearts with another. It would not beyourday. It is notyourwedding.” Bridget’s voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade.
The Duke’s eyes widened, and he choked slightly at her sudden comment. As quickly as he could, he dropped his fork and swallowed his food.
A smirk tugged at his lips, and his eyes narrowed as he retorted, “And who appointed you the spokesperson for this couple, Lady Bridget? It is not your wedding either.”
“Your Grace, I’m not the oneinsistingon anything for this wedding.” Her voice rose, laced with defiance. “Surely it is not wrong of me to insist that the couple should have their own say in how their special day unfolds.”
Abel let out a chuckle, and the air crackled with unresolved tension. Bridget knew she was giving him what he’d wanted all along, but she was not about to back down now.
“Here we go, it’s begun.” Hector’s small mumble drifted to her ears just as the Duke began speaking.
“As Olivia’s older brother, I believe I have a say?—”
“You underestimate the power of love and the importance of personal choice, Your Grace. This is simply not a matter for you to dictate, brother or not,” she jumped in before he could land his self-important statement.
Abel started. He glared at her in shock. Bridget guessed nobody ever dared interrupt him, which was probably why he spoke like he could bring the world to heel with a snap of his fingers.
