Part 1:
Drover's Run:
She had barely slept. Her eyes were gritty from a lack of sleep and the pointless, hated tears she couldn't help shedding. It was today. Glorious dawn colours and beautiful birdsong mocked the pain in her heart. Today she would watch her best mate, the man she loved, marry someone else. She knew she should be happy for him, that he'd fallen in love and was marrying the woman he loved, but why couldn't that woman be her?
Her sister Regan seeing her folorn figure disappear into the stables followed with two cups of coffee and a sisterly shoulder she knew would be needed. Seeing Grace with her face burrowed in Baggins' mane she heard her whisper how her heart was breaking. Regan hurt for her sister, she knew how unrequited love felt but seeing her fiery sister reduced to tears left her at a loss. Approaching Grace's heaving shoulders she softly offered her coffee. Grace furiously wiped the tears from her cheeks and took the coffee with a thickly muttered "thanks" and a shuddery breath as she fought for control.
"Grace, are you...?" Hastily interrupting her sister Grace rushed "I'm fine. Just leave it Regan, please."
With a squeeze of her shoulder Regan walked back to the house wishing she could help Grace.
A few hours later Grace had pulled herself together and having completed the morning chores she was drying her hair and avoiding the general excitement everyone else felt as they got ready for the wedding.
Hair pinned into a knot (at Kate's insistence) she put on her (borrowed) navy dress and some sandals Regan had forced her to buy having deemed her boots unacceptable even for a country wedding.
"Grace! You look amazing!" Tayler exclaimed as she stalked into the kitchen .
"Really hot" added Patrick earning an elbow from Tayler. Grace snorted and was hurried into the waiting car by an increasingly stressed Kate who hated being late for anything.
Marcus and Ingrid were to be married from Kilarney, the neighbouring farm owned and run by Marcus and his brothers. It was a stunning property, rolling hills much like Drover's but with beautifully maintained gardens and an almost stately home feel to it. The Drover's girls felt it still held a too-formal air much like its previous Mistress but couldn't deny it truly looked wonderful. Flowers were everywhere, seats arranged in rows on the perfectly manicured lawns and a covered arch made a beautiful setting.
Guests milled around in groups, catching up on gossip and chatting to friends and neighbours from the district. Grace stuck with the Drover's girls but was barely conscious of the conversations around her. She was acutely aware of Marcus, her body seemingly tuned to exactly where he was, her eyes unwillingly drawn to him again and again.
'Nooo!' she thought as he determinedly headed towards her. She took him in, tall, broad, tanned and smiling in his immaculate suit. She breathed, swallowed past the lump in her throat, willed the tears back and mustered up what she hoped was an answering smile. He had no idea she was dying inside. She'd lied through her teeth and convinced him (she hoped) that she was over him and happy for him and Ingrid.
"Congratulations!" She ground out,
"Grace!" He said with obvious pleasure,
"You look...beautiful..." he murmured looking slightly shell-shocked.
Aiming for a teasing tone Grace replied
"You don't scrub up too bad Turner. Who knew?" with more spirit than she'd felt all day.
"Thanks, I think" Marcus grinned at her, she couldn't help but grin back.
See this was fine, she could do this. She could wish him happy and ignore her heartbreak for now.
As music began to play people took their seats and she gasped as the reality of the situation slammed into her heart without warning. This was it. The man she loved beyond reason and without hope was marrying someone else. Now. Today. He would never be hers.
The music changed, everyone stood and in walked Ingrid, a vision in white. Her dress was lace and strapless and absolutely stunning. She glowed and as Grace looked at Marcus' adoring gaze fixed on his beautiful bride, she barely held onto her composure. Oh it hurt, she loved him, she'd offered her heart and it hadn't been the one he wanted, hadn't been enough.
She sat through the ceremony in a daze, drifted through the reception as though watching from far away. It was all just bearable until well into the evening when Marcus made his way to her side and taking her hand led her onto the dance floor. Ingrid was dancing with Marcus' brother Alex and Marcus wasnt taking no for an answer.
Knowing this was a terrible idea, knowing the heartache it would bring yet desperate for whatever time with him she could have, Grace allowed him to draw her into his arms. The music slowed and as Marcus drew her hand in his to his chest and slipped his arm further round her waist she swayed slightly towards him until the side of her head leant softly against his. She breathed him in, felt the warmth of his hand on her back and the calluses on his fingers as he brushed them over hers. This was perfect, this was torture. She never wanted it to end and wanted to run as far and as fast as she could. The song ended. He eased back, kissed her cheek and made his way back to his bride.