ully in front of him that rolled into a deep bow.

Abigail threw the nearest napkin at his head.

The warm rays dazzled on Abigails frail shoulders, making her pearl-white skin glow like diamonds. She got up from her chair and pointed to the middle of the garden. She wore a long sundress with straps that were tied as bows resting on her shoulders.

”We can have the wedding right here and I can do the flower arrangements. With Claires permission, of course. ”

John put his hands on his back and looked at the side profile of his sister. He was the spitting image of their father. Tall, with brown hair, hazel eyes, a square chin, and high cheekbones. Abigail, on the other hand, was said to take after their mother who died when she was young. She had long, wavy, muddy yellow hair, the same hazel eyes, a naturally frail body, and soft creamy white skin.

John looked at his watch. ”I still have one more person to tell this good news to. Don go anywhere. Ill be right back. ” He left his fresh tea still hot and steaming, trotting back inside the house in the direction he came out of.

She watched her brothers back disappear before plopping down to finish her tea. In front of her was the renowned garden of the Penrose Manor, famous for its landscaping. In the middle of the garden, a small shed stood covered in vines and blooms. The entire estate consisted of the main manor, a ten-car garage, a guest house, a gazebo, the garden, a golf course, a shooting range, a swimming pool, and half a dozen patios scattered about fully equipped with furniture. The property also included a private lake, a farmhouse, a horse range, and a landing field for the private jet. The list could continue for miles long if including assets and other properties of the Barringtons.

Abigail was sitting on one of the back patios. A small table situated in front of her served tea and biscuits. A few books are stacked crookedly on the edge. Her view overlooked the garden and a small section of the golf course. She could see the guest house from here as its relatively large size could not be ignored.

She quickly gulped the last of her tea and made her way to the shed. The faint colors of blue paint peeled from the outside walls like dried bark. Ivy climbed the small structure like green veins as it covered the top part of the doorway.

This small shed was Abigails most favorite place in the entire massive land. She grabbed the rusty knob and turned. The door made a small creaking sound that was almost indetectable. Table counters ran along three walls with dusty cupboards parallel on top. Hand shovels, hoes, scissors, and other small gardening tools hung on any wall spaces available as well as being shoved into the drawers underneath the counters.

Abigail had picked a handful of mixed flowers when she was making her way to the shed and placed it on top of the counter. She opened a cupboard and grabbed a pair of scissors. As she attempted to trim the stems and leaves, she was reminded that it was today, 12 years ago, that Mr. Barrington had built this shed for her.

It had been weather-beaten over the years and even sunk half a foot into the ground. Anyone who saw the shed from afar wouldve mistaken it for a small cottage.

Dancing rays of sun sprayed through the small windows. Abigail quickly worked through the bunch of flowers with expert fingers. After she figured out how she wanted to arrange it, she stuck it into a testing vase and gave an agreeing nod.

With the vase in hand, she made her way across the garden and entered the main house.

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