Crushing on Royalty (The Cuttings #1) [To Be Reconstructed]

Chapter 30: A Year Near Matrimony

Here lies Keller Blakely, who was going to be Lady Keller Cutting, Marchioness of Sterling, but died because her supposedly future husband is an idiot, gave her a fatal migraine, and his grandmother is batty.

-From the imagined grave of Keller Blakely

One year later

The Country Seat of the Duke of Rossington

Kent, England

Day One

Four days. Four days before the wedding. Four days before the damn wedding and, already, I was thinking of becoming a runaway bride. Great.

Well, how was it going to be my fault, when my fiancé went missing and his grandmother kept bossing me around like I was the freaking wedding planner?

"Keller, I thought you called Sylvia Weinstock? She's the cake diva of the celebrities, you know. We must have her!" and "Are you daft, girl? I told you to call the florist seven times! What is wrong with you?" and "We need to have Valentino personally make some adjustments to your gown. Call him, why don't you? Michael has his number, I believe. Oh wait! I have his number in my phone book; kindly bring it to me, would you? It's in my room..."

And that was two months ago. Of course, event planner extraordinaire, Sasha Souza, took care of everything. I may have had a little say on that because I desperately Googled for wedding planners and she seemed to be on top. I knew Lady C wouldn't allow just any unknown wedding planner, so she was perfect.

We got Valentino to design the wedding gowns and the grooms' tuxedoes, and we also got Sylvia Weinstock to be responsible for the cakes, then she hired the amazing photographer Joe Buissink to snap every moment that would happen at the wedding; and Kevin Lee took care of the amazing flowers.

Anyway, the wedding would take place in Kent in a gorgeous medieval cathedral, and the reception would be at the Duke of Rossington's elegant garden, as was tradition for generations in the Rossington Household. The whole wedding would be gorgeous and lavish, Sasha assured us confidently, and everyone had faith in her expertise. She's a celebrity event planner after all.

So far, everything was perfect -- except that my fiancé was missing. He did not call me, and when I tried to call him, he didn't answer. Most of the time, his phone was off. I was starting to think that he was having second thoughts about marrying me, now that we were both eighteen (he was eleven months older) and it was legal for us to marry.

After all, we had only four days before the wedding. But why didn't he just bail out two months ago? I deserved an early notice! And...

And it hurt. A lot. I wanted to smack him on the head like I usually did when I was pissed at him, or maybe hit him with a car till he was tossed across England. What was wrong with him? It'd been a week since I last saw him.

That was the last time he told me he loved me and kissed me in front of our friends and relatives, saying afterwards that he had to go fix something first. He didn't say what or where he would go.

He was even supposed to have a bachelor party tomorrow! Not that I liked that. I certainly didn't want him to be around half-naked girls dancing on his lap...but it was much better to know that he'd be at the party tomorrow with Frederick and Richard, then hide from me completely. It wasn't fair.

I'd kill him. I swear, I would.

"Are you all right, Kells?" My best friend, Vivian Lennox, soon-to-be Lady Kneap, was hovering at the doorway, her hand on the gleaming gold knob.