CHAPTER TWELVE

The next three weeks were busy ones at both Hawthorne Lodge and Reculver Court.

Daniel despatched hasty notes to Christian, Benedict, Anthony and Gerald so that invitations to his wedding wouldn’t come as a shock and kept a careful eye on the cottages where repairs were taking place. The Dowager – deaf to his protestations – insisted on surrendering the master suite to the soon-to-be-married pair; and, despite the upheaval caused by that, also ordered a mammoth programme of cleaning throughout the house, then left Rebecca with the task of supervising it.

Having ruthlessly cut her mother’s list of proposed wedding guests by half, Anna ordered a new gown for the occasion, agreed to Cousin Cordelia’s twin daughters being her attendants on the Big Day and gave Mrs Hawthorne a free hand with arrangements for the wedding breakfast. Amongst numerous acceptances to the invitations were ones from Daniel’s friends, along with a sincerely regretful refusal from Lady Hazelmere. These, she forwarded to his lordship at Reculver.

Between these two, the lawyers were busy with each other. Both bride and groom had given explicit instructions, one of them being an order not to quibble. But Messrs Longhope and Landry – each of them delighted by one particular clause and appalled by another – did not seem able to help themselves.

Mr Landry did his best to dissuade Miss Hawthorne from making an immediate payment of five thousand pounds into the viscount’s bank account and arranging for a draft for a further ten thousand to be sent to his lordship’s lawyers on the day of the wedding.

‘Do it,’ said Anna. ‘And do it today. Don’t bother me with this again.’

Mr Longhope, meanwhile, strongly advised Lord Reculver against putting his hand to the lengthy and detailed document which placed Hawthorne’s Porcelain completely outside his ownership, control or future interference.

‘Enough,’ said Daniel, pulling the agreement in front of him and, having barely read it, proceeded to sign and date it. Then, pushing it back across the desk, ‘Send it back without further delay. In fact, use a courier. The wedding is in less than two weeks.’

That last fact caused Daniel to write to Anna.

I have signed the documents and instructed Longhope to send them back to Mr Landry immediately. If he doesn’t, please inform me . On another matter entirely, it has occurred to me that it would be best for our immediate families to meet each other before the wedding. If you agree – and, like myself, would prefer to keep the occasion brief – might I suggest luncheon at some mid-way point, such as the Swan at Upper Strensham? This would also allow you and I to discuss where to spend the first couple of nights after the wedding. I doubt either of us wants to do so in one of our homes.

The fact that he’d written at all made Anna’s pulse trip. Reference to their wedding night accelerated it. She told herself not to be an idiot. He was merely attempting to make what wouldn’t be happening less visible to either family.

Her reply was carefully matter-of-fact.

The documents have been received. A family luncheon to break the ice is a good idea – as is spending the first nights of our married life on neutral ground. Please arrange both of these in whatever way you see fit. Meanwhile, if you have received no notification from your bank about a recent deposit , advise me immediately . I am quite tired of Landry dragging his feet .

***

But finally the wedding eve was upon them. To avoid travelling on the day itself, Daniel had engaged rooms in Worcester. Having settled his mother and sister at the more respectable Talbot, he joined his friends at the Crown and, dropping into a chair, said, ‘Thank God for a few hours without lawyers’ letters or my sister looking as if I’m about to stick my spoon in the wall. But don’t let me enjoy this too much, will you? I don’t want Thor’s hammer in my head tomorrow.’

‘Wise fellow,’ grinned Anthony, busy pouring claret for everyone. Then, ‘Did Kit write to you?’

‘Yes. He sent his and Sophia’s very best wishes and is sorry that he can’t be here but he’s convinced that the birth is imminent. I hope for both their sakes that all goes well.’

‘There’s no reason why it shouldn’t,’ remarked Benedict. ‘However, Gerald and I will call at Hazelmere on our way back to London in case moral support is needed. But your last note said you were bringing the mothers together. How did that go?’

‘Not too badly, all things considered – but then, both of them are getting something out of this marriage,’ came the faintly caustic reply. ‘Mrs Hawthorne wanted a titled son-in-law and my mother is happy to be out of the financial doldrums. The only one who remains unconvinced is Rebecca … but I imagine when talk turns to plans for her forthcoming Season she’ll be reconciled soon enough.’

‘And are you reconciled to it?’ asked Gerald quietly.

Daniel shrugged. ‘As much as one can expect. Given my situation and like a lot of other men before me, a wealthy bride was always going to be my only solution. So I’ve accepted my fate … but been careful to make the parameters clear.’

‘And the lady?’ It was Benedict who asked. ‘Has she accepted them?’

‘Yes. She’s a realist, thank God.’ He raised his glass. ‘And now can we please talk of things other than tomorrow and every day after it? I’m not married yet.’

***

At Hawthorne Lodge, Anna’s evening was proceeding along predictable lines. No one wanted to talk about anything except the wedding and, in the case Patience and Prudence Maybury, the wickedly handsome bridegroom. By the time they’d sighed and cooed and said, more times than Anna could count, how lucky she was and how much they envied her, she felt ready to scream. And when she said goodnight earlier than she might otherwise have done, the knowing smiles set her teeth on edge.

But her spirits rose the following morning when she looked out on a bright, if breezy, day. And when Ruth arrived with tea and hot water, she said impulsively, ‘Lock the door.’

The maid stared at her. ‘Miss Anna? Did you say lock it?’

‘Yes. Otherwise I’ll have visitors. And if Patsy and Prue are among them, I may take to the hills.’

Ruth giggled. ‘And leave the best looking gentleman in three counties waiting at the altar?’

‘Don’t you start,’ muttered Anna. Then, with a sudden smile, ‘He is, isn’t he? But for the Lord’s sake, don’t tell anyone I said so. And no matter who comes knocking, do not let them in.’

Mrs Hawthorne was turned away twice and the dreaded twins, three times by the time Anna was standing fully-dressed before the looking glass examining her reflection. For the first time, she’d allowed Madame Lavalle to have her way and been persuaded into a dusky rose watered taffeta, cunningly embroidered with paler silk thread … and she was forced to admit that the dressmaker had been right. The gown was beautiful and the soft shade became her much better than the somewhat chilly blue silk she would otherwise have chosen. Also, Ruth had piled her hair in a much more complex and flattering style than usual and secured it with crystal-headed pins.

Without turning from the mirror, Anna said, ‘What do you think, Ruth? Will I do?’

‘You will indeed, Miss.’

‘Even for the handsomest man in three counties?’

‘Even for him. You look lovely. And he’s lucky to have you.’

‘Thank you – but much though I appreciate your loyalty, let’s not get entirely carried away,’ said Anna. Then, ‘Ah well. I suppose it’s time I lowered the drawbridge and put in an appearance downstairs. I shan’t need you again until later, so if you wish to join the other servants at church, by all means do.’

‘Thank you, Miss. From what I’ve heard, half the village is turning out to get a glimpse of you.’

‘To get a glimpse of the viscount you mean.’

‘Well, him as well, of course – but mostly you, Miss Anna. You’ve helped a lot of folk and they don’t forget.’

Surprised and a little sceptical, Anna left Ruth tidying away brushes and combs and went slowly down the stairs. In the hall, a glass in his hand, Lord Maybury stood ready to act in loco parentis today. He was a large gentleman and, as now, often had a twinkle in his eye. When she got near enough for him to whisper, he said, ‘They’re all talking forty to the dozen in the drawing-room, my dear, so I left ’em to it – and so should you if you don’t want a headache before the ceremony. Come and hide in the library and I’ll pour you a drop of sherry.’

Anna smiled, nodded and tiptoed across the hall in his wake. Inside the library but not wishing to crush her gown by sitting, she accepted the glass his lordship offered her and said, ‘Thank you for doing this, sir.’

‘Standing in for your father – or corrupting you with sherry before noon?’

‘Both.’

He laughed. ‘My pleasure, m’dear. So … young Reculver, eh? I’ve never met him. Seen him around Town, of course, and heard some of what’s said of him.’

‘And what is said of him?’ asked Anna.

‘Nothing bad, so far as I know. Although there was that duel last year.’ Lord Maybury laughed again. ‘If the gossips had it right, Hazelmere’s muck-raking cousin had a pint of rum punch spilled over him and blamed Shelbourne – as he was then, of course – for it. Called him a liar when he denied it and threw a glass of wine in his face.’ He shrugged. ‘Well, there was only one answer to that and Shelbourne made it. But then he turned the thing into a Drury Lane farce.’

‘He did? How?’

‘He had the choice of weapons. He chose whacking at each other with paddles on the Serpentine bridge in Hyde Park – whichever of them took a ducking to be the loser. Apparently it drew quite a crowd.’

‘Yes. Yes, I imagine it might.’ Anna’s brow creased as she struggled to picture serious, responsible Lord Reculver playing the clown. ‘And?’

‘Selwyn fell in. Forty or fifty men there and not one of them offered to pull him out. He could have drowned. He would have if Shelbourne hadn’t dived in after him.’ Maybury paused and drained his glass. ‘Says a lot about him, don’t you think?’

‘Yes. Yes, it does.’ Anna smiled at him. ‘Thank you for telling me, sir.’

‘Oh, you’d have heard it elsewhere eventually. It was the talk of the town for more than a fortnight – best joke anyone had heard in a long time.’ He glanced at the clock and set his glass aside. ‘And, talking of time, we should be leaving. Ready, m’dear?’

***

The groom’s party arrived at the church in good time and were surprised to find a sizeable knot of villagers already assembled outside it and more still on their way across the green.

A good-natured voice called, ‘Which of you gents be the lucky man?’

Daniel blinked, bowed and said with a grin, ‘That would be me, sir.’

And was answered with a jumbled chorus of, ‘Then good luck to you, milord. To you and Miss Anna both!’

Startled but oddly warmed, Daniel thanked them with a wave and continued on his way. Benedict murmured, ‘Surprised?’

‘Somewhat.’ Then, finding the vicar waiting in the porch to shake hands with him, ‘Good morning, Reverend. I hadn’t expected a welcome party.’

‘Miss Hawthorne does a lot for the village, my lord,’ replied the cleric. ‘Supplying what’s needed for the school and paying for a teacher, for example. Everybody wants to wish her happy today.’

‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate it – as do I on her behalf,’ he murmured. And, to Benedict as they continued into the church, ‘What next, I wonder?’

The rear pews of the bride’s side were already half-full, the groom’s, almost empty. Daniel and Benedict took their places in the front pew; Anthony and Gerald sat behind them. Benedict said, ‘I’d have thought Oscar would be here by now.’

‘Surely, if he was coming he’d have joined us last night?’

‘No. He planned to spend a day or two with a friend in Cheltenham; someone else obsessed with Greek battles. But perhaps –’ He stopped, as fresh parties of guests arrived – among them, Daniel’s mother and sister. Rising with the others to greet them, he said, ‘Good morning, ladies. How very charming you both look.’

Rebecca beamed shyly and thanked him. The Dowager replied with a nod, a smile and a murmured response, her attention already fixed on Daniel.

‘No second thoughts?’

He kissed her cheek but said, ‘Don’t be silly, Mama. I wouldn’t have let things get this far if there had been. But tell me. Was everything satisfactory for you and Becky last night at the Talbot?’

‘Yes. Perfectly comfortable.’ She looked across the aisle. ‘Another carriage was drawing up as we came in – probably Anna’s mother, since she isn’t here yet.’

‘Very likely.’ He pulled Rebecca into his arms for a brief hug. ‘Ready to tell me you love me and wish me happy?’

‘Of course I love you,’ she muttered against his cravat. ‘And of course I want you to be happy.’

‘Good,’ said Daniel. ‘Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’

The Shelbourne ladies were just settling in next to Anthony and Gerald when the first of the bride’s party arrived. This was composed of Mrs Hawthorne, Lady Maybury and two other ladies, so there was a further round of introductions and greetings. And just when everyone was once more sitting down, Lord Oscar Hawkridge strode down the aisle ahead of three more Hawthornes and everyone got up again.

‘Musical chairs,’ murmured Daniel.

And, ‘You’re late,’ said Benedict to his brother.

‘I’m not,’ replied Oscar. ‘The bride’s carriage was held up by the crowd outside wanting to offer her their good wishes. Popular lady by the look of it.’

But eventually everyone settled down again and the organ started to play.

In the porch, Anna let Prudence and Patience fuss around her, twitching this and straightening that until their father said, ‘Enough, you two. Much more of this and the groom will think his bride has changed her mind.’

‘She’d have to be mad to do that,’ giggled Prudence.

‘All done,’ said Patience. And encouragingly to Anna, ‘You look very nice.’

Mostly because it was what people expected of bridegrooms, Daniel turned to look back along the aisle. Then he grew still.

She looked … different. Not pretty, exactly, and certainly not beautiful. But not ordinary or instantly forgettable either. Today both hair and gown suited, even flattered, her and there was a delicate hint of colour in her cheeks. Then, as the gentleman whose arm she held whispered something to her, warmth lit her face and she looked suddenly softer, less chilly and unapproachable. Daniel discovered that he felt mildly disorientated; then he hoped that this new incarnation would last and wasn’t merely an illusion born of the moment.

As for Anna, she handed her prayer book to Prudence, turned and finally allowed herself a very brief glance at her bridegroom. He smiled. As always happened when he did that, her heart lurched and she wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, whether marriage to Daniel Shelbourne was going to be a blessing or a curse. Given how she felt about him and how he didn’t and never would feel about her, she supposed it could go either way. Then she told herself she was being ungrateful. She was being given more than she could have dared hope for a couple of months ago. To want more was greedy.

The service began and she ordered herself to pay attention so that every moment of it would live in her memory. The rich tones of Daniel’s voice as he spoke his vows; the steadiness of his gaze; and eventually, the ring sliding on to her finger, warm from his hand. And then it was done. She was his wife.

In no time at all, it seemed, they were outside in the sunshine with the villagers cheering. She smiled and waved back, touched that so many had turned out to wish her – no, to wish them both – well.

Her mother, the twins and some of the other ladies came forward to hug her. Daniel’s mother was one of them; his sister, although she managed a smile and said all that was proper, wasn’t. Anna felt a growing sense of unreality creeping over her.

Meanwhile, a number of gentlemen – one of whom had been Daniel’s groomsman and must therefore be Lord Benedict – surrounded him to shake his hand or buffet his shoulder and offer their congratulations. Daniel responded to these with easy grace and took the first opportunity to present them to the newly-minted Viscountess Reculver; my bride. All of them smiled, bowed over her hand and behaved as if they didn’t know perfectly well how this wedding had come about – or that Daniel wasn’t marrying her from choice. She hoped her own performance was equally flawless.

Daniel handed her into the carriage, then paused on the steps to scatter handfuls of coins on the road. The cheers increased in volume. He grinned, gave a mock-salute … and joined her inside.

For want of something better, she said, ‘That was kind.’

‘It’s customary.’ And realising he’d sounded brusque, ‘Or so I’m told. May I say how delightful you look?’

She managed not to observe tradition dictated that all brides looked delightful.

‘Thank you, my – er – Daniel.’

That seemed to ease at least some of the tension.

Amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, he said gravely, ‘A pleasure, my – er – Anna. At least, I’m assuming I may now call you that?’

‘Of course! Did I not already …?’ She stopped. ‘Oh. Probably not. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. As for my rather trite compliment, I meant it. That colour suits you.’

Somewhere at the back of Anna’s mind was a hazy notion that this was one of those times to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she heard herself say, ‘My dressmaker chose it – insisted on it, in fact. Perhaps I should listen to her more in future.’

‘You usually don’t?’

‘No. I – I have a habit of thinking I know best.’

‘I am duly warned.’ Silence fell. But presently, when a glance through the carriage window told him they were nearly at Hawthorne Lodge, he said swiftly, ‘Unlike you, I’ll be obliged to make something resembling a speech. Other than that, I shall smile, listen more than I talk and avoid answering questions I don’t want to answer. You may wish to do the same.’

She nodded. ‘If I can. But your friends? Might they not –?’

‘Don’t worry about them. Anthony and Gerald are good at averting potential embarrassments; and the Hawkridge brothers will almost certainly fall victim to my mother’s determination to discuss genealogy.’ He gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Two hours – three at the most – and we can leave. Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ she said weakly. And wondered if what came after the wedding breakfast was going to be any less fraught with pitfalls.

~**~**~