Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

A rchibald rose the following morning at six o’clock, having tossed and turned imagining Izzie beside him in his bed and managed little in the way of sleep.

Jack was already bustling around the room. “You’re up early.”

“Thought I might as well get up,” Archibald mumbled. “I wasn’t getting much sleep, anyway.”

“Well, now, don’t worry. I’ll wager tonight, your new bride will have you sleeping like a baby.”

Archibald ran a hand over his face. “One of these days I’m going to strangle you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. Most probably, I’ll deserve it,” Jack agreed.

Seeing the plain grey suit Jack had laid out for him, Archibald frowned. “Is this what Bastian says I’m to wear at my wedding?”

Jack snorted. “Don’t be daft. This is what you’re wearing to breakfast. Bastian is coming over personally to get you ready for the wedding.”

Archibald groaned. “ Delightful .”

A half-hour later, Archibald made his way down to breakfast. He was surprised to see his parents up and about, as they usually didn’t rise until noon.

He sniffed the air tentatively. The smell he detected was definitely new. It didn’t smell bad, precisely. It was clearly some sort of flower.

But whatever it was, it was extremely strong.

He wandered over to the parlor where his parents had determined the ceremony would take place. The smell grew stronger with each passing step.

“Another vase of them over here on the mantelpiece, Phillip!” his mother said to a footman struggling to lift a large urn of white flowers while gasping for breath.

“Better yet,” his father said, “let’s have two vases on the mantelpiece. One on each side!”

“Oh, yes, my dove!” his mother exclaimed. “You always have the best ideas! Oh, good morning, Archie.”

“There’s the bridegroom!” his father said, jogging over. “What do you think, Archie, my boy? Aren’t they marvelous?”

He made a sweeping gesture to the twenty-some-odd urns of white flowers that covered every available surface. The smell was sweet but so potent it made Archibald’s eyes water.

“They’re called gardenias,” his mother said. “They come from the Far East.”

“ Very expensive,” his father added, sounding inordinately pleased about it. “But of course, we wanted to do something spectacular for our only son’s wedding!”

Archibald could scarcely breathe. “They’re lovely. But is the smell not a bit strong?”

“Not at all!” his father crowed. “We want everyone to notice them, after all.”

“Yes,” his mother agreed. “It’s important that we make a statement, especially with the Duke of Trevissick coming!”

Predictably, his parents had been over the moon last night when they learned that the Duke and Duchess of Trevissick would be in attendance at the wedding ceremony.

“That’s just it,” Archibald improvised. “It’s about… the duchess.”

His mother’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes keen. “What about the duchess?”

“It’s, uh… it’s not an allergy, precisely. But strong smells give her, a, um… a headache.”

This, of course, was a lie. But Archibald knew Ceci would go along with it, and he figured the Good Lord would forgive him for trying to spare his mother’s feelings.

“Oh, dear!” his mother cried. “Whatever are we to do? We cannot risk offending the duchess!”

“I have an idea,” Archibald said. “We will have two urns of flowers here in the room. That will be enough for everyone to… enjoy. We’ll move the rest of them to the back garden, and then after the wedding breakfast, we can give them out as gifts to each of our guests.”

“By Jove, Archie!” his father exclaimed. “That’s a splendid idea!”

“Our guests will be so impressed to receive such an expensive gift,” his mother added, beaming.

Phillip the footman cast him a grateful look. “I’ll just start moving a few of these to the back garden, shall I, Mrs. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy?”

Archibald fled the pungent parlor and headed toward the breakfast room. As he crossed through the foyer, he was surprised to see Izzie coming down the stairs.

Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were blotchy.

She had been crying. Panic flared in his chest. He hated the fact that she was upset and anxious that he might be unable to mend whatever was causing her distress. He rushed across the room and took her hand. “Izzie, what’s wrong?”

She looked at him, and her face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Archibald. But I cannot marry you.”