6

By the time Jeremy paid up his account with Madame de Flores and joined the others outside, Emmie was safely ensconced in the carriage with Miss Pinson. Teddy was waiting for him beside it, in his best velvet suit and lace collar, his golden curls shining in the afternoon sun.

“I gave Miss Ballentine my silver sixpence, Papa,” he volunteered eagerly.

“It was my silver sixpence, as I recall!” Colfax countered, opening the door to the carriage.

“Very well, it was Colfax’s sixpence for I spent mine,” Teddy admitted, looking back over his shoulder as he scrambled in. “But what I want to know is this, who is going to give away the bride, Papa?”

Jeremy passed Colfax a golden guinea as he climbed in behind his son. “Consider the debt repaid,” he said. Colfax’s frown disappeared in a trice. He shut the door behind them and swung up to sit up top beside Juggins.

“By rights it should be me,” Teddy continued as Jeremy dropped into the seat beside him.

“What should be you, my son?” Jeremy asked absently. Looking at Emmeline sitting opposite in that dress drove all else from his mind.

“It should be me that walks Miss Ballentine down the aisle,” Teddy reiterated. “For she was my choice, was she not, Papa? I chose her for your next wife.”

Noticing the close attention Emmeline was paying to his words, Jeremy cleared his throat to cut off his son’s prattle. “Let us ask Miss Ballentine who she wishes to accompany her down the aisle,” he suggested.

She looked first rather intently at Teddy and then back at him. “I have no objection to it being Teddy,” she said quietly. The boy was immediately all smiles.

“You will also be carrying our rings,” he told his son, presenting another velvet box and drawing back the lid. “This one is mine, and this one is for Miss Ballentine.”

Teddy took the box from him, puffing out his chest. “I’m probably the most important person at this wedding,” he observed with satisfaction.

“Carry on, Juggins,” Jeremy called up to the driver, and they were on their way.

They managed to disembark from the carriage with only minor difficulties involving the length of Emmeline’s veil. Miss Pinson caught it up at the back like a bridesmaid to avoid dirtying it in the street.

Emmeline hitched up her wide skirts and they were just maneuvering her through the church gate when his friend Atherton walked around the side of the church, top hat at a jaunty angle atop his head of gleaming black hair. He was smoking with one hand and carrying a box of spring flowers in the other.

“Picked them up as arranged,” he drawled, thrusting the flowers under Jeremy’s nose. “Apparently, it’s a little early in the season for orange blossom.”

“You remember Atherton, I’m sure,” Jeremy said, taking the flowers and passing the bouquet to Emmeline, and a nosegay to Miss Pinson.

“Er, yes,” Emmeline agreed, looking far from thrilled to be reacquainted. “Lord Atherton.” She dipped a curtsey and Atherton waved his cigarette and gave her an ironic bow.

“God, it’s been years,” he replied, blowing out a plume of smoke. He looked Emmeline up and down critically. “You’ve worn well, Miss Ballentine,” he said, discarding his cigarillo as Jeremy passed him a flower for his lapel.

“This is Miss Pinson, Emmeline’s oldest friend.”

Atherton’s eyebrows rose but he bowed again, simultaneously fastening the peony to his coat. “Delighted,” he drawled.

Miss Pinson, her hands full of flowers, umbrella, and veil, still managed a passable curtsey.

“Hello, Teddy, you repugnant brat,” Atherton commented, his eyes falling on his godson.

As Jeremy was pinning a peony to his lace collar, Teddy’s response was restrained. “Hello, revolting godfather,” he sang out.

Atherton turned to Jeremy. “Shall we go in?”

“You go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment.”

“Oh, very well, be like that.” Atherton shrugged and took off with his long-legged stride. “See you inside,” he said with an airy wave.

Jeremy turned back to Emmeline. “Could you spare me a flower from your bouquet?”

She extracted one and obligingly pinned it to his coat. “Is Lord Atherton acting as your groomsman?” she asked, a slight wobble in her voice.

“He is.” Suddenly, it occurred to him that she might not have the fondest recollection of his friends. He opened his mouth to ask if she had any objection but then closed it again. After all, it was a little late in the day for that.

Instead, he took her cold hands in his. “I have seen to all your business in London, Emmeline,” he told her in a low voice. “Should I have brought you proof that I have discharged all obligations honorably? I have it and can fetch it now if you deem it necessary.”

“No, of course not!” she said quickly, color rushing into her cheeks. “I did not doubt that for one minute.”

“Then why…?” he started to ask but did not have the courage to continue. Why do you suddenly look so full of misgivings? Damn it, maybe bringing London folk had been a mistake, but he had not wanted to marry her in an underhand fashion, as though he had something to hide.

“It will be easier all around if we are legally wed before I carry you off to the wilds of Cornwall,” he murmured, squeezing her hands lightly. “For traveling purposes, your reputation and mine.”

Her eyes looked searchingly into his and Jeremy steeled himself to look honorable and dependable, two ideals he had never aspired to live up to.

“Of course,” she agreed, but he could see her heart wasn’t in it. He felt a pang in his own. “You had better go inside,” she said. Jeremy hesitated. She would not bolt, would she? Suddenly, he was the one flooded with doubt. Emmeline held out her hand to Teddy and they clasped hands. “We won’t be far behind you,” she reassured him with a brave smile.

Jeremy gazed at her intently, found he believed her, and only then turned and headed up the church steps.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, though his bride’s fingers clutched sporadically at his sleeve, and she did not look so much blooming, as frozen stiff. Jeremy found himself profoundly grateful that Emmeline spent the whole time facing forward and did not gaze about at the strange mix of guests he had assembled. He was wondering now about the wisdom of that.

It could not last, of course. As Jeremy whisked her out to his waiting carriage, he was sure she was afforded many glimpses of the assembled company. He saw her nod at Fulsham beaming ear to ear and accompanied by his two gossiping sisters, and how her eyes widened at the huge plumage of feathers atop the hat of Jeremy’s sour-faced godmother, Lady Wickford.

He helped Emmeline inside their carriage and climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut as the window was pelted with rice. “The Guild Hall, Juggins!” he called and the carriage lurched off. He held a hand up and smiled at their well-wishers.

“Is that Lily Skellern ?” Emmeline asked in a dazed voice, staring out of the window.

“Technically her name is Arbuthnot now,” Jeremy reminded her. Lily Arbuthnot looked as though she was suffering from indigestion. Jeremy smiled at the memory of delivering her invitation. He had been sure to give that one by hand. She had looked as though she might pass out from the shock.

“And who is that stood next to her?”

“Her husband, the banker probably.”

“No, the other woman!” Emmeline said wildly. “She looks somehow familiar, but I cannot quite place her…”

Jeremy glanced out of the window. “Ah, you mean Mrs. Laverdale, your neglectful London sponsor.” Emmeline made a choking sound in her throat. “You haven’t swallowed any rice, have you?” he asked in sudden concern.

She ignored this, dragging her veil out of her face. “What on earth is she doing here in Bath?”

“Naturally, I invited her to witness the fruition of our little romance. After all, the majority of it was conducted under her nose, was it not?”

Emmeline sank back into her seat, an expression of horror on her pretty face. “My lord, you didn’t !” she uttered faintly. “How could you do such a thing?”

“You must call me Jeremy now,” he said firmly. “And naturally I wanted all interested parties invited. Is that so strange?”

“But she always—” She bit off her words, turning red.

“She always discouraged you from allowing my attentions?” he suggested lazily.

Emmie huffed but would not answer. At least her color had returned. “What about Hannah? We have left her behind and she knows no one.”

“I hired a second carriage. Atherton will escort her and Teddy to the wedding breakfast.”

She looked for a moment rather mutinous, opening her mouth and then shutting it again.

“Is it the mention of Atherton or the wedding reception that offends you so?” he asked lightly.

“I am not offended,” she said, though if Jeremy was any judge of character, she was far from pleased. Two spots of color were burning in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. “Though if Lord Atherton is rude or sarcastic to my dearest friend, I will never forgive him!”

Jeremy paused. Had Atherton acted thus to her all those years ago? The inference was clear. “There is a vast difference between nineteen and twenty-nine, Emmeline. Gervais was—we were both callow youths at your coming out. Neither one of us conducts ourselves now as we did then.”

She gave a brief nod and turned her head to gaze steadfastly out of the window. Once again, Jeremy found himself wondering uneasily if a quiet ceremony in Penarth would have been the better choice. They duly arrived at the Guild Hall, and he led Emmeline inside. Attendants escorted them to the grander of the function rooms which he had hired for the purpose.

Glancing around, he gave his nod of approval seeing all had been arranged as he had ordered. The elaborate three-tiered cake had arrived and was sat pride of place at the high table, the silverware and best china shone under the glittering chandeliers, and large arrangements of flowers matching the bridal bouquet had been placed strategically about the room.

“What do you think?” he asked Emmeline.

“It all looks vastly elegant, my lord,” she answered, peering up at the Queen’s state portrait in her coronation robes.

“Shall we welcome our guests here?” he asked, glancing around at the backdrop the heavy velvet curtains made. Emmeline hurriedly agreed as they both turned, hearing approaching footsteps. It proved to be Atherton, escorting Miss Pinson and Teddy. Fortunately for his marital accord, they all seemed to be getting along famously.

“Oh, how beautiful this all is!” Miss Pinson exclaimed, looking around the room, pink-cheeked with excitement.

Jeremy was gratified. “Have you seen the cake, Miss Pinson?” he asked. “The icing is inscribed with our entwined initials.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Miss Pinson breathed. “Why, it’s the tallest one I’ve seen, and what are those figures sculpted along the edges?”

“Cherubim and seraphim,” Jeremy explained.

“Signifying our union is blessed by heaven above?” Emmeline hazarded, a faint note of sarcasm in her voice.

“Exactly.”

“You must stand here next to me, Miss Pinson,” Atherton informed her when she looked as though she would wander off for a closer look at the cake. “As part of the bridal party we must welcome the guests together.”

“Oh, of course, Lord Atherton,” she said, hurrying back to stand in their line.

“I will hold your umbrella, Miss Pinson,” Teddy volunteered.

“Oh, would you?” She handed it over at once, not suspecting that it would be instantly transformed into a lance or a rapier blade. “So kind.”

Jeremy eyed his son suspiciously, but Teddy gazed back, his eyes wide and innocent. Experience had taught him this was when to be most on his guard where his son was concerned.

“Lord and Lady Faris will receive their guests through here,” they heard a voice announce portentously, and the doors were thrown wide. The string quartet set up in the far corner struck up a tune.

Truth be told there were only about forty guests, so it was far from a large affair. Fulsham’s sisters were the most amiable for they were thrilled to have been invited. In Bath for their mother’s health, they had not expected a wedding to brighten their stay.

One of them was not even out yet and the other only twenty-one. They were in raptures over Emmeline’s embroidered veil and quite convinced that April was the finest month of all for weddings, despite the ever-present threat of rain.

“I hope I meet someone in my first season that never forgets me,” Miss Dorothea confided as she sighed over Emmeline’s engagement ring. “I hope you do not mind, but Lawrence told us all about it.” She sent a fleeting glance at her brother.

“We thought it was wonderful,” her older sister added quickly when Emmeline looked startled by this remark. “How you ran into one another again in Bath a decade later and reignited old flames.”

“Oh, er, quite,” Emmeline replied in a strangled voice.

“How could I ever forget her?” Jeremy asked, his eye on Emmeline’s flushed profile.

“Oh look, Amabel!” Miss Dorothea exclaimed. “The wedding band also has stones set directly into the gold band.”

The sisters bent over Emmeline’s hand. “A diamond, a sapphire, and another diamond,” puzzled Miss Amabel. “Is there a special significance, my lord?”

“Sapphires signify love, or so my jeweler informed me, and diamonds forever,” he supplied.

“Ohhhh,” the young ladies caroled.

After they had moved along, shepherded by their brother, it was the Arbuthnots’ turn to felicitate them. “Ah, here you are,” Jeremy greeted them. “ So glad you could make it. It just would not have been the same without Mrs. Arbuthnot in attendance, after she was so instrumental in bringing the two of us back together.” He passed a proprietary arm about his bride.

Mr. Arbuthnot seemed surprised by this news. “Is that so, Lily?” he asked, turning to his wife.

Lily’s fixed smile looked as though it pained her by this point. “It was nothing, really,” she said shrilly.

“I assure you it is true,” Jeremy continued heartily. “If not for our kind benefactress here, I would never have dreamed that my Emmeline was in the vicinity and, lucky for me, still unwed.”

“Well, you’ve remedied that situation, by Jove!” Arbuthnot said and laughed jovially. His wife gripped his arm so tightly he winced. “Well, congratulations,” he added lamely, and they moved along the line to be quizzed by Teddy on why their son had not accompanied them.

Next up was Jeremy’s godmother, who was still stiff with affront that the wedding had not taken place in London. She offered her best wishes without thawing and the only time she cracked a smile was when informing him with malicious glee that she had told Lady Tipton she was attending the ceremony today.

“Is she still in London?” he asked breezily. “I would have thought family matters might have taken her to the Continent.”

Lady Wickford’s eyes gleamed with appreciation. “I believe she has sent her sister to try and mitigate matters there,” she said before moving off. Jeremy shot a quick look at Emmeline, but she did not appear to be attending.

Luckily the line of well-wishers was not very long, and the next dozen or so passed along without incident. Then Jeremy heard Emmeline draw in a quick breath.

“Ah, Mrs. Laverdale,” he greeted the lady as she gave her curtsey. She took great pains to explain she had recently remarried and was accompanied by her new husband, a Major Smith. Presumably the woman had a thing for military men. Introductions were made all around.

Smith looked like a bounder of the first order with his huge sideburns and air of forced gaiety. Jeremy was not sure if it was Emmeline’s decolletage he was ogling or her pearls. “Still not sure how it is you all know each other,” Smith admitted after giving his bow. “Not related, the wife tells me.”

“No,” Jeremy answered firmly. “Most assuredly not. You see, your wife was entrusted by the late Mr. Ballentine to oversee my wife’s introduction to polite society. Ensure she was not exposed to any undesirable elements, that sort of thing.”

Major Smith gave a gusty laugh. “That’s a good one, Mariah!” he joked. “Hard to imagine you in the role of protectress. I expect you were off flirting when you should have been standing guard!”

Mrs. Smith née Laverdale forced a rather mirthless laugh. “I was little more than a girl myself at the time,” she insisted, though to Jeremy’s reckoning she must have been at least thirty. “Little did I know that I would attend Miss Ballentine’s wedding ten years later,” she said, sending a fleeting glance Emmeline’s way. “I hardly dreamed…” Her words trailed off. “Well, how could I?”

“This must be quite a trip down memory lane for you, seeing the two of us together again,” Jeremy said, reaching across to brush a wayward lock of hair from Emmeline’s face. “Quite like old times, is it not?”

“As you say, my lord,” Mrs. Smith agreed after an awkward pause. “You were always sure to, well, pay your little attentions to Miss Ballentine, as it were.”

Jeremy’s smile broadened. “I certainly was,” he agreed. “I’m sure you were not the only one to notice my partiality.”

“Of course, if I had realized the serious nature of them , I would have encouraged them at the time,” she replied defensively.

“Well, you certainly did not discourage them as far I was concerned,” Jeremy answered, making her bridle. “I scarcely remember your presence. Except perhaps for that one time,” he said, frowning with the effort of remembrance. “Now let me think, when was it. Ah! I have it. The occasion of the Hawfords’ ball. I was coming out of the conservatory, and I recall opening the door and you practically fell in a heap at my feet. You must have been searching for Emmeline, I suppose.”

Mrs. Smith turned quite crimson. Unfortunately, so did Emmeline.

“I expect you were peeping in at the keyhole, eh, Mariah?” Major Smith joked, jostling his wife in the ribs.

“George!” Mrs. Smith expostulated crossly.

“It was all such a long time ago,” Emmeline said, coming into the fray. “I am sure I do not know how we can be expected to remember such things. So much water has passed under the bridge since then.”

Mrs. Smith said with an awkward laugh, “Oh, I quite agree, Lady Faris!”

“Well, well, all turned out as it should have,” Jeremy reflected philosophically. He picked up Emmeline’s hand and carried it to his lips. “Fortunately for me.”

“You are enjoying this a bit too much,” Emmeline murmured as the Smiths moved away. She reclaimed her hand. “Kindly stop torturing our guests.”

“I? You wound me. Have I not laid on every comfort and indulgence for their entertainment?”

Emmeline smiled and nodded at the next in line. “Thank you so much,” she murmured in response to their congratulations. “So kind.” As they drifted away, she whispered in an undertone, “Just because you ply them with champagne and lobster salad does not mean you can be unpardonably rude!”

“My dear Emmeline, there is also mayonnaise of salmon and veal and ham pie! Pray do not minimize my efforts to provide for our guests.”

“I am sure there is also jelly and blancmange!” she retorted with spirit, “but that does not mean you are at liberty to—!”

Atherton leaned forward at this point and interrupted them. “Lord, is that the last of them?” he asked with a shudder. “Far be it from me to comment on your choice of wedding guest, but really , Faris.”

“Just consider yourself fortunate that you are seated at the high table with the likes of Miss Pinson,” Jeremy replied.

“Believe me, I do!” Atherton responded with feeling. He turned to Emmeline’s friend. “Shall we go and find our seats, Miss Pinson?” he asked, presenting his arm. “I am convinced we are stood in a draught here and shall catch our deaths if we linger any longer.”

“ I am escorting Miss Pinson, not you!” piped up Teddy, sounding aggrieved. “After all, I am the one carrying her umbrella!” As he dropped it twice whilst arguing, Jeremy could not help but feel his son failed to prove his point.

“We can both escort Miss Pinson,” Atherton replied firmly, and they moved away, one on each side of her, with poor Miss Pinson doing her best to avert a full-blown row.

“I think I have the beginnings of a headache,” Emmeline said faintly.

“You are likely just thirsty,” Jeremy said. “Come, let us be seated.” He towed her in the direction of the high table and saw her comfortably seated. Miss Pinson and Teddy were sat to his left and Atherton was sat to Emmeline’s right. Seeing the wan smile Emmeline bestowed upon his friend, he wondered if he should have balked tradition and insisted the bridal couple were seated separately to the rest of the wedding party.

“Fetch us some lemonade for this table,” he instructed a server who had just finished handing around several glasses of champagne.

“Some water also,” Emmeline requested quickly. “I’m afraid I am not fond of lemonade.”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me,” he said, passing her a glass of champagne.

“I don’t really like champagne either,” she admitted. “Water will do very well for me.”

“All the more champagne for myself and Miss Pinson,” Atherton commented, toasting them both with his glass.

“Miss Pinson and I believe ginger beer is the superior drink,” Teddy announced. “Do you like ginger beer, Miss Ballentine?”

“She is not Miss Ballentine any longer, you loathsome brat,” Atherton pointed out affably. “You must henceforth address her as Mama.”

“I would by no means insist on such a form of address so soon,” Emmeline put in hastily. “If your father is agreeable, then I would be glad if you would call me Emmie.”

Teddy looked at him inquiringly and Jeremy nodded in assent. “You do not call her Emmie though,” his son pointed out. “You call her Emmeline.”

“A force of habit. She will always be Emmeline to me.”

Emmeline frowned but did not argue the point. The waiter reappeared with carafes of water and lemonade and Emmeline drank her water while Jeremy stood up to formally welcome their guests and bid them eat.

Large decorated platters of roasted fowl and garnished tongue were brought out and set alongside the salads. The guests started conversing among themselves and Jeremy urged Miss Pinson to sample the dishes widely, and not limit herself only to his son’s favorites.

Deducing Miss Pinson was not a lover of ginger beer, whatever his son might say, Jeremy set her untouched glass aside and called for another which he filled from his own pitcher of lemonade. Miss Pinson was pathetically grateful for the attention, and Jeremy turned back to his bride to hear Atherton explaining who Lady Wickford was.

“She lives in Grosvenor Square. Husband’s a Member of Parliament. He’s not here today though,” Atherton said, glancing around. “Probably couldn’t drag him away from London.”

“She’s by way of an aunt of mine. My father’s younger stepsister,” Jeremy said, interrupting their conversation. “Wickford’s damnably careful of his reputation so you probably won’t meet him until we’ve been married a decade, and any scandal died down.”

“Oh,” Emmie whispered.

“As for Aunt Louisa”—he pulled a face—“she made her feelings on the matter plain. A member of the family must be present to legitimize the union. She saw it,” he said grandly, “as a matter of duty.”

“Is she your only family?” Emmeline asked. “I’m afraid I have none to bring to the table myself, not even a long-lost cousin.”

“No,” he answered. “I have a sister, who I would far rather have here, but Mina has not long had a baby so she would not venture far from home at this time. She lives in Cornwall; you will meet her there.”

The lavish spread was partaken of, and Jeremy was pleased to see that Emmeline had a good meal, trying some of everything on offer and tucking in heartily to her plate. Dishes were replenished all around them and once the savories were done, they were replaced with sweets such as savoy cake, meringues, and cream trifle.

“ I have a cousin now,” Teddy was telling Miss Pinson in his high, carrying voice. “His name is really Baby James, but my uncle Nye always calls him Jimmy.”

Miss Pinson nodded. “Just as your name is Edward, I suppose, but everyone calls you Teddy.”

“’Zackly,” Teddy agreed through a mouthful of Bavarian cream.

“I did not realize just how hungry I was,” Emmeline said at last, sitting back in her seat with a sigh.

“Will you have some cheese?” he asked, drawing her attention to a platter of various varieties surrounded by an arrangement of wafer biscuits. “I wish I had grapes for you, but it is too early. Still, we grow them in the hothouse at Vance Park so you will have them in late summer.”

“Grapes for me?” she asked, looking startled.

“Yes, for I remember you had a fondness for them.”

Emmeline blinked at him. “When did I—?”

“It was at some party.” He shrugged. “They had bunches of Black Hamburg, and you were excited to try them.”

She gave a short laugh. “No doubt displaying my gaucheness to one and all,” she said lightly.

“I did not find it gauche.”

“Yet you probably laughed at the time.”

“Probably,” he agreed after a pause, refilling her water glass, for she had not touched her champagne. “Are you sure I cannot tempt you to try some of this syllabub? Or some of this rhubarb compote? You have not yet sampled all the desserts on offer.”

“I do not think I could fit in any more,” she said regretfully. “You were right, you provided a veritable feast for your guests.”

He smiled at her. “And yet I thought only of you, Emmeline,” he admitted in a low voice, making her blush.

“Dear me,” drawled Atherton, “I suppose it must be about time for speeches.”