Mary Jo Putney (22 page)

Mariah winced. “I can’t bear to think of that.” She frowned, looking away before saying haltingly, “Perhaps. But I could never love another man the same way.”

“You and Adam are fortunate that you’ve been able to marry your first great loves. Rob and I lost our first loves,” Sarah said quietly. “That makes us well matched. We care about each other. We trust each other.”
We desire each other.
“He’s the only man I’ve met since Gerald that I can imagine marrying. I think we’ll suit very well.”

Mariah’s expressive face showed understanding, but also regret that her sister wouldn’t have what Mariah and Adam had. “That’s a good beginning, and the bond between you will only grow stronger after you marry.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I have a perfect gown for you. It’s the duchess dress that I brought.”

“Duchess dress?”

“When I travel, I always have one grand gown just in case,” Mariah explained. “Because I’m a duchess, I’m often asked to visit schools and open church bazaars and the like. I’ve found people are disappointed if I don’t live up to their image of what a duchess should look like.” Mariah grinned. “As a countess, you’ll get this, too. The duchess gown I brought on this trip is one I’ve never worn. I’d love to give it to you. That is, if you like it.”

Sarah laughed. “I’m sure I will! You know how we’re always choosing the same colors and styles. What does it look like?”

“Ivory silk with long sleeves and crystal beading on the bodice. There’s gold lace and a gold underskirt, with a demitrain and a matching shawl. It will look wonderful on you.”

“It sounds beautiful! Tomorrow I’ll try it on.” Seeing that everyone else was already in the dining room, she said, “And now, let’s eat!”

S
arah went to bed exhausted, but found she couldn’t sleep. Visions of everything that needed to be done for the wedding danced in her head. She and Rob needed to visit the vicar, Mr. Holt, and talk to him about scheduling the ceremony. Rob’s man Harvey would leave first thing in the morning for London to procure a special license at Doctors’ Commons so they wouldn’t have to post banns and wait three weeks to marry.

She flopped over and kneaded her pillow, trying to get more comfortable. Lady Kellington was making lists of important local people who should be invited to the wedding of the local lord. Sarah had asked Francie if she’d like to become a lady’s maid officially, since she’d been doing the job unofficially. Francie accepted with pleasure, and would continue to look after Bree as needed.

One thing Sarah didn’t have to worry about was food for the wedding breakfast. Anna had taken on that task and disappeared into the kitchens for a long discussion with the cook. It was a relief to consign such a major responsibility to her mother.

So much had been done in a few hours, but so much more awaited! Sarah flipped and flopped and knocked her pillow onto the floor twice, but her brain remained obstinately active.

Finally she sighed and got out of bed. Maybe she could find something to read down in the library. After belting on her long wool robe and donning slippers, she headed down, a candle in her hand. Strange to think that she’d be walking these passages for the rest of her life.

Unless they couldn’t afford to live here, of course.

 

 

The library had two fireplaces, so Rob set a blaze in the eastern one, which was at the end of the long room he’d turned into an office. He stripped off his coat and cravat, tossed them aside, and stretched out in a wing chair with his feet on a chubby little ottoman. There were a thousand things he should be thinking of, but at the moment he didn’t give a damn about any of them. He’d save productive thought for the next day. For now, brandy and a fire sufficed.

He heard the library door open and glanced up to see Sarah. Interesting that he immediately knew it was her even though Mariah was sleeping under the same roof. Her long blond hair fell in a braid over one shoulder and she wore a floor-length blue robe belted at the waist. Almost every inch of her was covered, and she still looked ravishing.

She hesitated in the doorway. “Would you rather be alone?”

“You’re the one person in this house I’m happy to see.” He rose and crossed the room to scoop her up. She made an adorable squeak before settling comfortably in his arms. He returned to the wing chair with her as a warm lapful, her head tucked under his chin. “I gather you couldn’t sleep either?”

“My mind was churning like a waterwheel,” she agreed. “I came down to find a book of sermons that would put me to sleep.”

He chuckled. “I should have thought of that. Would you like some brandy?” He offered her his half-empty glass from the side table. She took a sip before handing it back. A small thing, but so very intimate.

Was marriage made of such small, intimate moments? He’d not really thought much about that in the past. Marriage had never seemed inevitable, much less imminent.

As he stroked her back, he said, “I didn’t realize that a betrothal puts one into a strange new world. Over port, I felt that I was being initiated into the fraternity of married men. Men of substance, men of affairs. Men with gravitas. Marrying you will increase my value to society.”

She laughed. “It was like that with the women when we adjourned for tea. Mariah and my mother and your grandmother were treating me differently.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I was terrified that Lady Kellington would insist on explaining the facts of life to me.”

Mildly alarmed, he said, “I assume that isn’t necessary?”

“I grew up on a farm so I think I’m reasonably well informed. If I have any questions, I’ll ask Mariah.”

It was a long time since he’d been an eighteen-year-old virgin, but he and Bryony had managed to work things out to their satisfaction. She’d possessed a frank physicality that made everything easy.

Sarah wasn’t missish and he was no longer inexperienced, so they should do all right. But he’d better start thinking of something other than his wedding night before he couldn’t think of anything else. “Ashton and Mariah’s wedding present will be to pay for the celebration for everyone on the Kellington estate.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “That’s incredibly generous!”

“Tactful, too. With him paying, I don’t have to count pennies. The tenants deserve a good time. They haven’t had much to feel good about for years.”

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. “Does it bother you that you can’t afford to do it yourself?”

He grimaced. “I’ve been self-supporting and debt free my entire adult life, so I resent having to worry about costs and debts that aren’t my own. But I won’t let stiff-necked pride prevent me from accepting help when it’s offered. Particularly since Ash keeps saying that his debt to me is too great to ever be paid.”

“He’s right,” Sarah said seriously. “Rescuing me took enormous courage and skill. You’re a hero.” She smiled up at him. “
My
hero.”

“I was just doing my job.” He couldn’t resist kissing her, though he kept it quick and light to avoid escalation. “Did you know that he rates your courage even higher than mine? Putting yourself in the hands of a group of unknown villains was—extraordinary.”

Sarah looked surprised. “Not really. The villains were already there. Stuffing Mariah into the crypt meant at least one of us might escape.”

“It would have been far more ladylike to collapse with strong hysterics.” He grinned. “I’ll never forget your expression after you bashed one of your abductors over the head with a cast iron skillet. You looked so proud of yourself.”

“I
was
proud of myself!” she said indignantly. “I thought I was being quite enterprising.”

“Without your joining in, the odds of our both escaping safely would have been much slimmer.” He bent his head for another kiss, and this time he didn’t try to keep it light. His petite lioness . . .

She made a purring sound as she kissed him back, her fingers curling deliciously into the nape of his neck. He caressed her breasts, very aware that she wasn’t wearing stays or much of anything else under her robe.

She wriggled in his lap to change her position, her round and perfect rump arousing him to the point where his brain quit altogether. “My golden princess . . .” he whispered huskily as he leaned deeper into her embrace.

They slid off the chair to sprawl on the worn Oriental carpet. Rob realized they were falling in time to shift his weight so that he landed on his hands and knees around Sarah instead of squashing her underneath him. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently.

She responded with a fit of giggles. “I think we’re meant to behave ourselves until our wedding night!” she said when she caught her breath. “Either that, or it’s a lesson that the proper use of chairs is for sitting.”

Relieved, he sat back on his heels and helped her sit up. “Interesting things can be done on chairs, but not tonight.” He took both her hands in his and just gazed at her. Bright eyed, laughing, indomitable.

Marrying Sarah might be the least sensible thing he’d ever done. But it felt exactly right.

 

 

The next morning turned into a giddy, impromptu female planning and fashion event. The ladies of the household gathered in the morning room, along with the lady’s maids and Hannah, the baby’s nurse. Young Richard was the only male allowed into the room, and he was only interested in sleeping.

Naturally everyone wanted to see the gown first, so Sarah and Francie moved behind the painted screen and Sarah donned Mariah’s duchess gown. Francie murmured, “I need to tighten the lacing a bit since the duchess just had a baby, but otherwise, this is perfect. Go show everyone.”

When Sarah stepped from behind the screen, there was a collective sigh from the other women. “You look like a fairy princess!” Bree exclaimed.

Sarah crossed to the tall mirror that had been brought in for the occasion, catching her breath when she saw herself. The heavy ivory silk fell in luxurious folds, the pale shade bringing out her delicate blond coloring. The long sleeves and décolletage were modest, in keeping with the gravity of a wedding ceremony, but the crystal beads on the bodice sparkled like falling stars.

“There are matching shoes,” Mariah said. “Gold kid with crystal beads sewn on, and a heel so you won’t look quite so short beside Rob. Do you like it?”

Sarah touched the gold lace that edged the neckline and echoed the gold of the satin underskirt, then turned sideways and walked a few steps. The demitrain glided behind her with a whisper of silk. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn, Mariah! Are you sure you don’t want to have it back?”

Her sister laughed. “It’s yours, Sarah. Even if we are twins, I swear it looks better on you than me.”

“Sarah has that bridal glow,” her mother said. “The color is similar to what I wore when I married your father.” She smiled mistily. “What is it about a wedding that brings out the tears?”

“The knowledge that everything to come will be inferior,” Lady Kellington said tartly, but even she had a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s not a good season for flowers. A pity the conservatory here has been allowed to go to rack and ruin.”

“I don’t need exotic flowers,” Sarah said. “There are miniature daffodils in the garden that will look beautiful with snowdrops and greens. I thought nosegays for me and Mariah and Bree, and perhaps tussie-mussies for you and Mama.”

“What musicians are available?” Anna asked. “Does the church have an organ?”

“Yes, and the vicar’s wife plays very well. You’ll need some fiddlers for the wedding breakfast and the tenant celebration. The head groom, Jonas, is a member of the local group, so he can organize the music.”

“Thank you!” On impulse, Sarah kissed the old lady’s cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The dowager blushed but didn’t pull away. “You’re the only one who feels that way.” She gave a ferocious scowl. “Mind you produce an heir as quickly as your sister did. But not in less than nine months!”

Sarah laughed. “I promise that won’t happen. Bree, now it’s time for you to try on your dress. The white gauze is pretty, but it needs more trimming for the wedding. Perhaps some gold lace to match my gown?”

“That would be bloody fine!” the girl exclaimed.

Lady Kellington scowled. “No profanity in the church, or there will be consequences!”

“God will strike me dead?” Bree said innocently.

“If He doesn’t,
I
will!” the dowager growled. “Sarah, do you have a suitable hat to wear for the ceremony?”

“I thought she could use this one of mine.” Anna lifted a hatbox from the floor beside her and produced an elegant deep-crowned straw hat. “It will need new trimming, but the shape and style are good.”

Bree said hesitantly, “Sarah, I thought . . . I’ve been embroidering a hatband. It isn’t finished yet, but I can have it done by the wedding. Would you like to see it?”

“I’d love to.” Sarah would say it was beautiful no matter what, but in fact, no exaggeration was needed. The band was about two inches wide, and over half was embroidered with exquisite tiny blossoms in gold and ivory. “Bree, this is wonderful! Mariah, Mama, look how fine Bree’s needlework is! She was already skilled, and Lady Kellington has been teaching her the more complicated stitches.”

“Perfect!” Anna also knew the value of encouraging a young girl who needed to know that her presence mattered. She wrapped Bree’s embroidered band around the crown. “This will look beautiful. Are you sure you can finish it in time?”

“Oh, yes!” Bree exclaimed. “Even if I have to stay up all night every night.”

“I don’t want you too tired to be my bridesmaid!” Sarah said as she hugged Bree.

Lady Kellington gave a rare nod of approval. “The embroidered band will look very fine. Mind you get it finished.” She hesitated, then said almost shyly, “I think the hat needs a short veil to fall back over the bride’s head and shoulders. It could be tucked under the band.”

“That would look lovely, if we had a veil.” Seeing the dowager’s expression, Sarah asked, “Do you have one?”

Lady Kellington nodded. “I wore it on my own wedding day. It’s an ivory shade that will go with the gown and it would lend a bit of history to the day.”

Sarah refrained from pointing out the irony of the countess’s veil being anchored by the embroidery of the illegitimate great-granddaughter she’d started out despising. “That would be
perfect.
I’m so lucky to have you all here!”

“It’s our pleasure,” Mariah said. She looked a little wistful. Her wedding to Adam had been quietly magnificent, and they’d both radiated so much happiness that the church, St. George’s on Hanover Square, had scarcely needed the masses of candles used to light the interior.

Sarah had been the maid of honor so she was in the heart of all the activities, and the wedding had drawn her and Mariah closer. But that ceremony had not had the sweet intimacy of this small, swiftly cobbled together ceremony.

Sarah was lucky indeed.