Page 104 of Beyond Her Manner
Viola placed her hand on top of Gillian’s. “Very agreeable. I would prefer sooner, but I understand.”
“As long as Bridget agrees to take over — if she’s still talking to me,” Gillian murmured, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice.
“She will be,” Viola reassured her. “I’m sure of it. She showed you how much she cares about you.”
Gillian sighed. It was the only time her friend had ever raised her voice to her, and it had spilled out in a way that had taken her completely by surprise. Bridget was always unwavering in her support, never questioning her decisions or pushing her too hard.
In all their years together, she was the one person Gillian could count on to stand by her, no matter what. Today, she’d challenged her. It had shaken Gillian, even if she knew it came from a place of love. It was exactly what she needed to hear, though, that someone believed in her enough to demand better from her.
“She’s never pushed me like that before,” Gillian admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But I guess that says everything, doesn’t it?”
Viola nodded, her fingers skimming lightly along Gillian’s arm. “It does. She’ll stand by you, as she always has.”
“Will you be okay going alone to America?” Gillian asked, her voice faltering as she looked down.
“Yes, as long as I know you are here waiting for me to return.”
“I will be,” came the confident reply.
“I’m not sure America is ready for Gillian Carmichael to land on its shores anyway.” Viola grinned.
Gillian narrowed her eyes at her and then relaxed them, adding a smile. “I will expect you to return to visit me if your schedule allows, and perhaps we could speak on the phone every day.”
“I will ensure my schedule allows for all of that.”
“Would you mind if I leave telling people about us until you return? I want time to get used to everything myself first,” Gillian admitted, knowing it wouldn’t be an easy task to rediscover herself.
“Of course not.”
“I will hold a garden party for your birthday and invite the village. I can show you off.” Gillian beamed.
“I like the sound of that.”
“If you can get through coming out on the world’s stage, then I can get through coming out in Kingsford.” She took Viola’s hand and squeezed it, initially excited at the prospect, only for nervousness to creep in and brush the edge off it. “Did you know Elouise and Louisa are a couple?”
“I had a feeling, yes.”
“They’ve never shown any affection towards each other in public.”
“Some people don’t. Did you and Jonathon?”
“Not at all, but then we didn’t have anything to hi—” Gillian’s words faltered, her voice catching as she realised where the sentence was heading.
“I’m glad you didn’t finish that sentence,” Viola said quietly, though her meaning was clear.
Gillian gave a small nod. “I’ll get there.”
Viola didn’t press further; there was no rush, no expectation, only understanding. Everything had changed between them, and yet, as she sat there next to Viola, the morning light filtering in around them, Gillian found herself grateful for it all. It was strange, the way something that started with tension, animosity, and distance had evolved into this — a space where she could be herself, where she was finally letting someone see who that was.
For the first time in a long while, possibly in forever, she felt truly happy. Fear may still sit at her edges, but with Viola by her side, she knew she could let go of everything that once bound her and embrace the future as a free woman, whatever it might hold for her.
EPILOGUE
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Gillian double-checked the list on her clipboard as she set it down on the kitchen worktop. Satisfied, her pen pressed down to tick the last box. The manor was spotless, and the scent of spring flowers from Elouise and Louisa’s garden filled the air, mixing with the aroma of freshly baked scones. Everything was ready for their afternoon tea party.
Under normal circumstances, Gillian would receive everyone herself to make each guest feel personally welcomed. With Bridget noticing her focus was elsewhere — eagerly awaiting the arrival of Viola, the guest of honour — she had volunteered to do it for her.
