Epilogue

Epilogue

Though Ivo had voiced a desire to procure a special license and marry immediately, Jane had preferred to do things the traditional way.

"It"s only three weeks," she had argued, "Having the banns read will give you time to consider if you truly wish to marry into this family of Bedlamites."

"And after three more weeks under your mother"s roof, my risk of being jilted at the alter by you is certain to decrease," the viscount had reasoned.

"Lud," Jane had not thought of that, "Perhaps you should try for a special license after all."

Luckily, Ivo had not listened, perhaps sensing that Jane needed time to become accustomed to the idea of being his wife. The viscount had called faithfully every evening, to sit and take tea in the parlour room with Jane, her sisters, and their mama. In stolen moments, he had reassured her with soft words, tempted her with burning kisses, and won her heart with his kindness and patience. So much so, that Jane began to count down the days until the final banns were read and they might be married. She felt she could not wait another second to be Ivo"s wife, excepting one, niggling worry...

"Jane," Mrs Mifford declared, on the morning of the wedding, as Jane"s sisters helped her finish dressing, "I must speak with you about something very important."

"Mama, no," Mary interjected, her vehemence taking everyone by surprise, "There is no need; I shall pass on to Jane what she needs to know. After all, you did such a good job with me on the morning of my wedding."

"I did, didn"t I," Mrs Mifford sighed with pleasure at her own achievements, "Very well, girls, you come with me. What Mary is about to tell Jane is not for young ladies" ears."

Mrs Mifford led her two younger daughters from the room and, once the door had shut behind them, Mary exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Poor Northcott," Mary said with a smile, "Mama frightened me so much that on my wedding night I went to bed with a knitting needle."

"Is it that bad?" Jane gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. No wonder Mrs Mifford had bid Emily and Eudora to leave—no young lady would ever dream of getting married if they knew the true horrors of the marriage bed.

"Heavens no," Mary laughed, "It is tremendous fun. Forget everything Mama told you about the dangers of male passion. In fact, forget everything Mama told you full stop—especially her household tips. Her secret ingredient for beeswax burnt a hole through the arm of Northoctt"s Chesterfield. I had one of the footmen move it to my music room, to try hide the evidence, but then the housekeeper thought someone had stolen it and it all descended into a terrible farce."

Outside the window, the bells from St Mary"s began to chime the quarter hour.

"Jupiter," Mary threw up her hands in despair, "We"d best hurry, or you"ll be late."

Mary began to button up the back of Jane"s gown—a long sleeve frock, with an olive satin bodice, worn over white silk skirts embroidered with silver lama at its hem. Over her head, she donned a veil of Mechlin lace, affixed into place by a bandeau of pearls.

"You are the most beautiful bride who ever lived," Mary declared, as she gave Jane one final inspection.

"Never mind that," Jane protested, "You didn"t really explain to me what I am to expect later, you became distracted with talk of beeswax and Chesterfields."

Jane"s plea for more detail was interrupted as Mrs Mifford began banging on the door to the bedchamber.

"It is time, girls," she called, her voice high-pitched and frantic, "Do not dally, Jane, he might not wait."

"He will wait," Mary assured her, before pushing her out the door to met her fate.

Despite the shortness of the journey, Jane travelled by carriage to the church, accompanied by her sisters and their mother.

"The last time I shall have the four of you together," Mrs Mifford lamented, dabbing her eyes theatrically with a handkerchief.

"We"re attending Jane"s wedding, Mama," Emily sighed, "Not her funeral."

"You did not become so emotional when I was leaving to wed," Mary added, clearly affronted at the favouritism.

"If I did marry, you"d never even notice I was gone," Eudora huffed, petulantly, "Nobody ever notices me, it is as though I am invisible."

A squabble ensued and by the time Jane arrived at the church, her earlier fears were gone, replaced by relief that it was Ivo she would be spending the evening with, for the argument between Eudora and her mother seemed sure to last for hours.

At the church door, Mr Mifford awaited her, and once the others had gone inside he offered Jane his arm.

"I am sad to see you leave my care," her father said, with a slight crack to his voice, "But if I have to give you away, I am glad that it is the viscount to whom I am handing you over."

"Papa," Jane was touched.

"Don"t cry," Mr Mifford warned her sternly, "You"ll set me off. Imagine, another buffer against your mama"s attentions has gone, I shall soon have to entertain her alone. Oh, well, at least my side of the family have a tendency to die before their time."

On that cheerful note, Mr Mifford led Jane inside, walking her down the aisle to the altar, where he then took his place as officiant.

Jane turned to face Ivo and any fears she might have felt melted away at the sight of her handsome viscount. His face was unusually pale and he appeared more nervous than she had ever seen him. His fear allayed her own and she reached out her hand to his, finding comfort in his touch.

The ceremony passed in a haze of happy excitement and it felt like seconds later that Mr Mifford was pronouncing Jane and Ivo to be husband and wife. The church erupted into applause as Ivo offered his wife a chaste peck upon the cheek, and as they made their return trip down the aisle, Jane was touched to see so many of her neighbours smiling happily back at her.

"We made it," Ivo whispered, as they escaped into the church yard, alone for a brief second.

"Did you fear that we would not?" Jane raised an eyebrow.

"I feared that you would realise you made a mistake in choosing me as your husband," he replied, with a shy smile, "And that you would leave me stranded at the altar."

"I could never want anyone else but you," Jane whispered, before her husband swept down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

"Good," Ivo pronounced happily, as they broke apart, "Because you"re stuck with me now."

The church door opened and the villagers began to stream out, headed by Mrs Mifford who was braying loudly to anyone who would listen that she had predicted the marriage from the off.

"I don"t like to brag," she trilled, "But I"m something of a clairvoyant. I said, not a month ago, that I would soon have one daughter as mistress of Plumpton Hall and the other the mistress of Northcott Manor—and I was right."

"What do you see in my future?" Miss Morton queried, her eyes full of hope for a similarly fortuitous match.

"Oh, dear," Mrs Mifford frowned, as she gazed at Miss Morton thoughtfully, "I"m afraid not much, my girl. Still, your mother will be happy to have you close by as she ages. Emily! Where are you Emily? I have had a premonition that you are next."

Jane took a step back as he surveyed the scene of chaos before her. Miss Morton had fled, sobbing hysterically, while her mother was racing around the church yard in search of Emily. Mary and Northcott were headed their way, the former still grumbling loudly about her mother"s favouritism to her patient husband, as Eudora trailed them, tapping her stolen cane as she walked.

"I am rather afraid that it is you who is stuck with me," Jane whispered to her husband, who seemed dazed by the disorder of it all.

"There"s no one I would rather be stuck with than you," he answered back, with a mischievous grin.

And then he kissed her once more, to prove that he was indeed pleased to have married into such chaos.