Portraits of the Forsaken by E. E. Holmes

Author:E. E. Holmes [Holmes, E. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lily Faire Publishing
Published: 2018-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

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An hour later we pulled up to the sprawling manor house where the wedding was being held. I gasped at the sight of it as we rounded the bend in the drive. Well, I would have gasped, if I could have drawn enough breath in that straightjacket of a dress. It was like pulling onto the set of a lavishly produced Jane Austen mini-series. The house loomed over perfectly manicured lawns and gardens, four floors of stately stonework and softly glowing windows. There were even white-gloved servants opening car doors for guests as their cars crunched to a stop on the gravel in front of the massive front doors. I sighed and slipped Milo’s chosen shoes back onto my already protesting feet.

In an effort to blend in with the other wedding guests, the Caomhnóir in attendance were all dressed in tuxes rather than their traditional uniforms and boots. Ambrose looked as horribly uncomfortable in his tux as I felt in my dress, which lessened my misery just a bit. I watched with a smirk on my face as he inserted a finger under his collar, tugging and grumbling to himself. He caught my eye and glared at me before dropping the car keys in the valet’s hands and stalking off toward the front doors.

Ambrose wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the surroundings. As I joined Hannah, Savvy, and Milo in front of the entrance, I noticed Savvy staring up at the grand façade of the building with definite trepidation. All her usual swagger seemed to have drained out of her.

“What’s up, Sav?” I asked her.

She looked over at me, and tried to grin, but her facial muscles wouldn’t cooperate. She leaned over and whispered. “Blimey, I knew they had money, but I didn’t realize it was going to be so…” She gestured helplessly at the building, unable to retrieve the right word. I tried to help.

“Grand? Over-the-top? Aristocratic?”

“Yeah, all of that,” Savvy said. “It’s a bit much for a girl from the East End.”

“I didn’t think there was anything that was a bit much for you, Sav,” I said, nudging her with my elbow. “Usually you’re the one who’s a bit much for everyone else.”

Savvy winked. “Truer words were never spoken. Still…” She glanced up again.

“Savvy, listen to me,” I said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her fully around to face me. Her feathers danced around on her head. “I’m going to be honest with you. I’m barely convincing myself to walk through those doors. There’s a good chance I’m going to hide under the first tablecloth I find. I don’t know if I can do this. So, I’m going to need every ounce of your too-muchness, do you hear me? I need your too-muchness to overflow and fill me up, too, because I honestly can’t do this without you.”

Savvy blinked once, as though shocked, then slowly, a grin spread over her face. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled with more than just her quintessential impishness.

“For you,

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