The family arrived at Daventon Manor with mixed emotions. Lady Catherine was in tears. She had hoped to reconcile with her stubborn husband and return home. Instead, she was coming to his grave.
Lady Helena, Gareth, and Laura were also remembering the late earl.
He had yearned to have Lady Catherine return. Some months after the rift, his man of business told him she was ill and in Harrogate. He had rushed to see her, determined to bring her back. She was sitting alone in the walled garden of the rented house. He had stood outside the hedgerow, trying to compose himself before going into her presence. And then she had opened the turquoise pendant attached to her chain, and pressed kisses on an unseen miniature, with tears coursing down her wan face.
He had left as if the devil was after him. “She pines for that other fellow. It will be a cruel thing if I force her to be my wife,” he told Lady Helena and shut himself in his room.
That was the beginning of the end. Nothing mattered to him after that.
And now he was beyond knowing the truth. Lady Catherine had engaged a painter to paint her husband’s miniature. She kept it close to her heart in the turquoise pendant. Her husband had misconstrued what he saw. She had been kissing his miniature.
“Catherine, the past cannot be changed. You must think of the future. Gareth’s wedding is a joyous occasion. You will be gaining a wonderful daughter.”
***
Prominent families from the neighborhood were invited. The late earl had severed contacts with close friends and cousins. But he had also missed them. At Lady Helena’s urging, invitations were sent to all of them.
The first guest to arrive was also the most eagerly awaited one. Mr. Thornton was Lady Maria’s maternal uncle, from the Continent. Lady Maria had only recently discovered his existence. He hadn’t known about her either. He had visited America after the contagion that had taken his sister and husband. The servants had run away and the good doctor who had saved many lives had also succumbed. Maria’s death was not recorded but everyone thought it was only an oversight; they thought she had also died along with her parents.
Lord Russel arrived next. Lady Helena was delighted to see him. He was a part of her growing years. His sister was her closest friend. The other guests started to arrive two days before the wedding. The Duchess of Severn and Lady Maria brought some of their close friends. Lord Russel unobtrusively took over the task of entertaining the male guests and seeing to their comfort.
The Duke of Wimberley did not arrive until the eve of the wedding. He entered the hall when the small gathering of two hundred guests was sitting down to a banquet. The butler led him to his place near the top of the table.
Laura watched as he engaged Lady Catherine, who was seated beside him, in conversation. For two days she had waited for him to arrive. Every time a carriage came into sight, she had hoped it was Anthony. Her eyes had thirsted to see him again.
Fool! She scolded herself. He hasn’t looked around even once.
After the feast, the hired minstrel group took up position at one end of the ballroom. It wasn’t usual to hold a dance on the night before a wedding. But when Lydia heard about musicians from London being hired for the wedding celebrations, she pleaded with Lady Helena to let them have a dance. “We hardly get an opportunity,” she pouted.
After consulting with Lady Catherine and Lord Daventon, Lady Helena agreed. There was to be an hour of dancing after the feast. Further pleading by Lydia and other young people led to the last dance being a waltz.
Young men and women who didn’t have the advantage of attending a Season were determined to make the most of the opportunity. They spent a week practicing the steps and agonizing over what they would wear.
Laura had also fretted about her gown and how she would have Bessie do her hair. After changing her mind so many times that Bessie almost drowned under the heap of rejected gowns, she decided on a maroon gown. Fashioned out of heavy silk, the gown had a square neckline and puffed sleeves. Its gauzy overdress was embroidered with small maroon flowers. Delicate gold embroidery added to its beauty. And a maroon sash made of the finest satin showed her figure to advantage.
She had sat patiently while Bessie had done her hair into a loose chignon after threading it with a satin ribbon decorated with tiny roses.
Odious man! Why wasn’t he asking her to dance? Two of her brother’s friends had already asked if she was free to waltz. Anthony stood to a side, deep in conversation with a small group of men. Clearly, he had no intention of dancing that night.
Laura marched up to him and tapped his arm. “Your Grace?”
Anthony turned away from the men. “Lady Laura,” he murmured.
Laura had dashed across the ballroom without any thought of what she would say. It was not in her nature to dissemble. “Will you dance the waltz with me?” she asked.
Anthony stared into her stormy grey eyes and watched the anger give way to the brightness of unshed tears.
“I would be honored to waltz with you, Lady Laura,” he said. Taking her gloved hand into his, he gently placed it on his arm. “The first set is about to begin. Shall we find your partner before he calls me out for depriving him of the pleasure of so beautiful a partner?”
Laura let him walk her around the perimeter of the hall. She kept her eyes lowered until she had safely blinked away her sudden tears. She was thankful for Anthony’s inconsequential chatter that did not require her active participation. He was giving her time to regain her composure. What a watering pot he must think her.
The two country dances passed in a blur. Her partner, the other dancers, and the guests filling the ballroom merged into a swath of light, color, and sound.
When Anthony claimed the dance, she was aware only of the music and of herself in his arms. She could have danced all night with him. They didn’t speak, at least not with words. But their eyes spoke of a need, a hunger. At one moment, while twirling her, Anthony tucked one of her golden curls behind her ear. The back of his hand briefly touched her cheek. Laura savored the feel as if it was a caress. The dance came to an end too soon. For a moment Anthony held her close. Laura rested her head against his shoulder. She felt as if she was in a dream. She couldn’t stop smiling.
Anthony gently disengaged her. “Shall I escort you to your brother?”
“This is a gathering of friends. There is no need to observe such formalities.”
“As you wish, Lady Laura.
Laura gave a curt nod, as if she was dismissing a lackey and not taking leave of a duke, and blindly walked towards the large curving marble staircase.
The musicians were putting away their instruments. Guests were making their way to bed. Lydia also went to her room, not to sleep but to dream. And later to feel mortified that she had been brazen enough to demand a dance. What would Anthony be thinking of her?
***
The wedding day dawned bright and clear. As the parish church was small, only a few close friends accompanied the family to the wedding ceremony. The Duke of Wimberley was among them. He was also performing the office of groomsman.
Lady Maria’s gown was an exquisite creation of pale pink satin and a gauzy silver material. For all its fine embroidery and workmanship, it paled in comparison to the bride’s radiant face.
After signing the register, Lord Daventon and his bride emerged from the church. A crowd had gathered outside to have a glimpse of the bride and groom. They cheered as the couple got into the waiting carriage. Gareth waved to them and flung fistfuls of coins in their direction.
Other carriages followed. Laura found herself being helped by Anthony into his carriage. It was a short ride to the manor. She kept her eyes averted and counted the seconds until the carriage stopped. She knew she had disgraced herself by her brazen behavior. Anthony would have developed a disgust for her.
When the carriage stopped, Anthony jumped out. He waved aside the hovering footman and offered Laura his hand. She gave it to him and looked into his upturned face. What she saw in his eyes made her lose her footing. Before she could fall down, Anthony grasped her arms and steadied her. “I am sorry,” he said.
Laura knew it wasn’t his fault. Or maybe it was. He had looked at her with such tenderness that she had missed her footing and come lurching down. Wordlessly, she took his proffered arm.
The bridal couple was surrounded by guests who had not accompanied the family to the church. The musicians had struck up a tune. Soon everyone would be ushered in for the wedding breakfast. And then the guests would start leaving.
Anthony would, too.
“I have a letter for you,” Anthony said. “A drawing, actually.”
Laura smiled when she unfolded the sheet. What Mary Jane lacked in skill, she made up in enthusiasm.
“That’s you,” Anthony said, pointing to the bigger stick figure.
“And this one is Mary Jane with her doll,” Laura said. “I gather she likes the doll.”
“She does. She calls her Ann and looks after her. I can’t guess what role she has assigned to Ann. She croons to her to put her to sleep. She also makes her participate in games.”
“Ann can be just about anything! A playmate, a confidant, a baby to fuss over, even a mother visiting the nursery.”
“Laura, I can’t thank you enough. You have made Mary Jane very happy.”
“I have thought of something. I have several sets of doll clothes. My nurse was skilled with the needle. I wheedled her into making bonnets and gowns and pelisses for my doll, Amy. Will you take them for Mary Jane? I’m sure she will be pleased.”
“Are you telling me you have relegated Amy to your childhood? How very inconsistent. I thought your devotion would last a lifetime,” Anthony said, his eyes twinkling.
“Well, Amy is a young woman now. She has been to London. I shall have to commission a new wardrobe from a fashionable modiste, your Grace!”
“I recall asking you not to address me as ‘your Grace’.”
Laura gave him a mischievous smile. “And I recall you not accepting to be called Ant-tony!”
“What’s wrong with Anthony?”
“Ant-tony is better.”
“How about Wimberley?”
“Maybe I will. Now I must go up to my room and make up a parcel for Amy. One for Mary Jane too, with slices of wedding cake and the most delectable sugar cakes.”
Laura despatched a footman to the duke’s chamber, with the promised gifts. A maid informed her that Lady Catherine was looking for her.
“Where were you, dear?” her mother asked. “Many of our guests have been enquiring after you.”
“I had gone up to my room, Mother. I shall stay here and see that our guests are well cared for.”
Two hours later, when Anthony was leaving, her attention was claimed by a matron who thought the morning unseasonably chill and insisted on all the windows being shut. Anthony looked at her from across the length of the hall and raised a hand in farewell.
***
Five weeks later, one more wedding was celebrated at Daventon Manor. Lady Helena became Lady Russel.
Nobody was surprised with Lord Russel’s offer except the lady herself. Gareth and Laura had noted his attentions to their aunt. Lady Catherine was wont to gently tease her sister-in-law that his lordship’s frequent calls had much to do with her.
Lady Helena would not be too far from Daventon Manor, her home for thirty-six years.
Having Lord and Lady Russel close by proved to be a blessing in more ways than one. A few months later, when Lord Daventon left for a trip to America with his countess, he did so with an easy mind.