Chapter 280
Chapter 47
That evening, just before dinner, Graham stood at the head of the
grand foyer of Thornfield Manor, his presence commanding as he
addressed the gathered household staff. His tone was firm, his words
leaving no room for doubt.
“I have an announcement to make,” he declared, his deep voice
carrying through the high–ceilinged space, silencing the murmurs of
curiosity among the assembled maids, butlers, and footmen. “I’m
getting married. To Isla.”
The words landed like a thunderclap.
For a moment, silence stretched thick and heavy, the only sound the
crackling of the fireplace in the distance. Then, Maggie–bless her
heart–clapped her hands together in delight, her face breaking into a
broad smile. “Oh, that’s wonderful news, Master Graham!” she
gushed, practically glowing with happiness.
But the rest of the staff?
Stunned.
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Shocked.
Wide eyes darted between Graham and Isla, as if they’d misheard, as
if the announcement itself defied logic. Some exchanged furtive
glances, their expressions betraying a mix of disbelief and barely
concealed confusion. A few risked flickering looks of concern, not
daring to voice the questions undoubtedly burning on their tongues.
Isla felt the weight of every single gaze on her. Her skin prickled
under the scrutiny, her stomach twisting in knots. The stares weren’t
just at her; they were at him too. Some of them, she realized, weren’t
just surprised–they were wary.
She swallowed hard, fingers twitching at her sides. Did they think she
wasn’t good enough for him? Or worse… did they think this was some
kind of twisted arrangement rather than a love match?
Graham, however, was utterly unfazed.
If he noticed the stunned silence, the hesitant reactions, or the
lingering tension in the air, he didn’t show it. His confidence was
unwavering, his arrogance absolute. He simply looked over the room
as if daring anyone to challenge him. His expression was unreadable
-cool, composed, as if he’d just announced something as simple as
the weather.
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Graham wasn’t finished. As if dropping the bombshell of their impending marriage wasn’t enough, he went on, his tone calm,
authoritative, and utterly indifferent to the shock still settling over
the room.
“The wedding will take place in three days,” he announced, his voice unwavering. “As soon as the marriage license is valid.”
Another ripple of surprise passed through the gathered staff, but no
one dared to question him.
Three days?
The words echoed in Isla’s mind like a thunderclap. She turned
sharply toward Graham, her eyes widening in disbelief. He hadn’t
mentioned this to her before–not once.
0
Three days.
Her heart pounded as the realization sank in. That wasn’t just soon-
it was impossibly soon. Three days meant there would be no time for
the things she had always dreamed of. No grand preparations, no
extravagant white wedding. No weeks spent shopping for the perfect
dress, no walking down the aisle with hundreds of guests watching in
awe.
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There would be no flower arrangements carefully selected to match
her vision, no cake tasting, no time to choose a band to perform
during the reception. There would be no slow buildup of excitement, no whirlwind of planning with friends and family fussing over every
little detail.
There would simply be no time for anything.
Just like that, every childhood fantasy she had once held about her
perfect wedding–the kind all women dreamed of–was being stripped
away without so much as a conversation.
And Graham?
He stood there, completely unbothered by it all. As if the idea that
she might want a say in this had never even crossed his mind. As if it
hadn’t even occurred to him that she might have wanted the kind of
wedding little girls fantasized about–the big white dress, the elegant
ceremony, the celebration that was hers to shape.
But of course, in typical Graham Lancaster fashion, he had decided
everything on his own. Just as he always did.
This wasn’t a proposal. This wasn’t a carefully planned moment of
romance where he asked for her hand, where they sat together and
dreamed about their future. This was a command. A statement issued
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as if it were already set in stone.
His arrogance was infuriating. The way he simply expected her to fall
in line, to accept this rushed marriage as if it were a business deal
rather than her wedding, sent a sharp stab of resentment through her
chest.
Her fingers curled into fists beneath the table, but she didn’t say
anything
That was the first real speed bump in all of this.
For the first time since Graham had declared that she would be his
wife, Isla felt something uneasy settle in the pit of her stomach. A
quiet, nagging resistance. But she said nothing. She didn’t argue,
didn’t protest, didn’t let the words clawing at her throat escape.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
