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44.44% Forever His (N_C) / Chapter 8: Chapter 8

章 8: Chapter 8

The last wedding to happen at Penrose Manor, the Queen was invited. The flowers were flown fresh from India and all the food from France. The reception rocked the nation as the most expensive hall of the century standing in the millions of pounds. This wedding, however, John wanted it simple. The wedding altar and the reception were both held outside. Even the dance.

Because of this, a large rug was rolled over the grass and a canopy was set up near the Manor. The garden was right in view. Greek columns were stationed around with flower arrangements on top.

Guests would come through Penrose Manor where they enjoy the splendid lighting of the chandelier before being ushered to the back.

Abigail woke up early to have the maids and staff set up the rest of the decorations. She had done all the large pieces yesterday. They also had to set up the tables, chairs, and tent. When table clothes and napkins were being carefully laid, she went to check the chefs on the hors d'oeuvres platters. The sound system was plugged in and the sound guy was on standby.

She had a team of maids who went around spraying the flower arrangements with water. She made sure everyone knew their jobs and who to ask questions to in case she got busy. This all sounded a lot, but five months of planning was enough for her to keep everything organized.

John was the first one to be ready. He came down in a crisp new tuxedo and a fresh haircut. Beside him was a man Abigail had only seen in pictures. He had thick brows and curly orange hair.

"Ian, this is my wedding planner, my sister Abigail. Abigail, you remember Ian." John double-checked his tie. "He'll be my best man for today, as long as he doesn't mess up, that is."

Ian chuckled. He replied with a phrase that meant vice versa.

John and Ian had been friends ever since high school. They went to universities together and graduated with similar degrees. No one else fit the shoes of a best man better than him.

"How's Claire? Should I check on her?" Abigail couldn't wait to see the bride in her gown.

John suddenly made a face and shook his head.

"Oh, no! Susan's up there. You don't want to go."

He looked at his sweet sister and spared her the pain of being scowled at by the bridesmaid. As sexy and alluring as she looked, Susan had a feisty attitude toward people she doesn't like, and for some reason that included John.

"The first guests are about to get here. You should go get ready." John looked at her t-shirt and jeans. "Remember what the hairstylists are always saying about your hair?"

Abigail looked at the time on her phone in surprise.

At every event that the Privileged Roses attended, Sir Barrington always made sure they had stylists and makeup artists getting them ready. Each outfit was hand-picked ahead of time. Not so much John, as all his suits looked almost identical, but Agibail was always a beautiful transformation to behold.

She made her way to the main dressing room, a room that once belonged to the Lady Barrington when she was getting ready. The routine was, each time her attendance was required at an event, she would open the door to the dressing room and find a mannequin in the middle in the most beautiful gown.

One time, Sir Barrington bestowed her an enormous evening gown of a soft pink that illuminated her waist and shoulders. The event was a campaign awareness ball and no one could stop talking about her. Sir Barrington and his stylist had never failed to surprise her.

Abigail walked past a common washroom for guests when a few ladies step out into the hallway. She was hidden from their view with a potted tree, but their vile words could be heard by the deaf. As soon as she heard "Privileged Rose", she halted and obscured herself behind the plant.

The women were making comments about her brother and Sir Barrington. It was the same old nasty rumors about John being his illegitimate child, or a charity to the desperate.

High society had found out that Sir Barrington was hosting the wedding as soon as invitation cards went out. Only immediate friends and families were invited with a few selected individuals, but once those children of the rich whom John and Abigail would often see at party events approached him, pretending they were friends, he had no choice but to mention the wedding.

One of them was a tall girl, just a few years older than Abigail, with long blond hair and obvious botox and lip injection. If Abigail remembered correctly, Lily was her name. The similar blond hair girl to her left was her younger sister, who was about her age. And the one with the nose ring was her best friend.

Their conversations finished with John and went to Abigail. Their faces cringed with disgust.

"She's probably going for Lucas," the younger sister pointed out.

"She's definitely going for Lucas," Lily supported with pursed lips. "The bitch aims high."

They were making their way toward her but she stood her ground. When she had first heard them gossip about them during their first events, she spent many nights crying and regretted having accepted going. The things they said were just too cruel and heartless for their pretty faces and clothes. She'd often wondered how such people exist just to tear down those lower than them.

Then she remembered one time, both her brother and her overheard the gossip happening but John made them stay until the people realized they'd heard everything. In a way, he made them feel stupid by showing no signs of influence from their words. Instead, he showed them that although he was servant-level, he held more class than any of them could from generations of wealth.

Abigail was only brave enough to stay, but she wasn't brave enough to speak up. Lily was the first one to see her and cut her laughter short. They were having fun at her expense.

The rich girl was indifferent that they had been heard. She even threw a lock of hair back with confidence and bounced her weight on one hip. Their eyes met right away.

Abigail knew she was never as threatening as her brother, but she had the same fire in her spirit to defend herself. She raised her chin higher.

Lily muttered something inaudible to the two girls behind her and they all snorted in high giggles. She shook her head at Abigail with a conceited look. Lily looked absolutely stunning in a tight purple dress accentuating all her curves. On her neck was a multi-million-pound necklace of glimmering diamonds. Her hair was ironed straight and loose around her bare shoulders.

After a short second, she waved her fingers and shoved a shoulder into Abigail before continuing down the hallway.

"See ya, maid."

Abigail could hear them after she caught herself from stumbling. She couldn't argue with them even if she wanted to. The status between them was too great and she would only cause trouble for Sir Barrington. This was the first time she had to deal with them alone and it was tiring, having to take it all like a mute.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself what today was. She didn't spend five months planning this special event just to let these girls ruin it for her. She was stronger than this, and she had been for the last three years.

She continued to make her way to the dressing room.

Today, the mannequin was wearing a gorgeous off-the-shoulder dress in the lightest blue she had ever seen. It shimmered from the tiny rhinestones like stars in the galaxy. The dress was short and will probably reach her knees. It will definitely show her shoulders and make her stand out in the crowd, but the fact that it was short also drew attention away from her to the bride's large puffy skirt. The designer was meticulous indeed.

Upon seeing Abigail, the make-up artist, hairstylist, and designer could immediately tell the girl was feeling a little down. They cheered her up right away with their usual jokes and compliments. They had been working with Abigail for a long time and knew her nervous points. They knew just how to relax her and give her the best glow-up.

It took just a little more than an hour for her to get ready. Her thin wavy hair was hard to tame and that was what John meant. Instead, the hairstylist curled her hair and put it in a loose braid accompanied by tiny flowers. She had natural makeup on except for her extra fluffy lashes. The minute she put on the dress, she almost could not recognize herself.


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