And he’d kept money that belonged to someone else.
The priest cleared his throat and looked back down at his Book of Common Prayer. “Lady Judith Carrington, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband…”
Standing on Rose’s right, Violet leaned closer to Ford and wrapped an arm about his waist. Ford was decent, too, Rose thought, watching him squeeze her sister around the shoulders. His first love used to be science, but when he found Violet—and responsibilities—he hadn’t hesitated to put them first.
Sun streamed through the stained glass windows, glinting off Violet’s spectacles. “Oh, isn’t this romantic?” she sighed.
“It is,” Rose whispered to no one in particular, remembering Ellen’s wedding, which hadn’t been romantic at all. Yet Ellen had been just as thrilled to marry her love as Judith was today. Ellen’s dowry could have bought her a titled man, but she’d wed a pawnbroker instead. Her Thomas was decent. He’d wanted Ellen even though she hadn’t come with the money they’d expected.
Lily’s husband, Rand, was decent as well. He’d worked hard to become an Oxford professor, but he’d been willing to give that up when other duties were thrust upon him. After falling hard for Lily, he’d even agreed to marry another woman in order to save a man’s life.
Thank heaven that hadn’t been necessary.
Lily poked Rose from behind. “Your wedding will be next,” she whispered.
Rose hoped so. But first she’d have to find a husband who would make her as happy as her sisters and Ellen and Judith. A decent man. Someone she could admire.
Gabriel wasn’t that man. She’d tried her best to fall in love with him, but it hadn’t happened. What could she do but keep looking? She’d have to return to court, much as the thought distressed her. But not today. It was too soon. She would ask Mum to take her to the queen’s birthday celebration at Whitehall next month.
“…so long as ye both shall live?” the priest concluded expectantly.
“I will,” Judith pledged, her voice clear and true. So clear and true that no one in the church had any doubt she meant that pledge with all her heart.
A few more words, a new sapphire ring slid onto Judith’s finger, and she was clearly and truly wed now, the new Lady Grenville.
And watching that, Rose knew she wouldn’t wed until she found a love as decent and true.
When Lord Grenville lowered his lips to meet Judith’s, Rose smiled through a sudden film of tears. She wasn’t sure whether they were happy or sad tears…perhaps they were a little of both.
MANY HOURS later, Chrystabel sighed happily as she closed her bedchamber door. “Another wedding.”
Her husband wrapped her in his arms. “Another wedding night.” He kissed her thoroughly before setting her away, his hands moving to detach the stomacher that covered her laces. “Will we be celebrating Rose’s wedding soon?”
“I wish I knew.” She went to work on the knot that secured his cravat. “I’m fairly certain she won’t be accepting Bridgewater, but that doesn’t mean she’ll end up with Kit.”
“You sound worried, my love.”
“Our daughter is stubborn.”
He skimmed one long brown curl off her face. “What will you do next to push Rose and Kit together?”
“Nothing.” The fire on the hearth threw his face into shadows. “I’ve done what I can. The rest is up to them. But with any luck, we’ll have another wedding night before too very long.”
“Ah, Chrysanthemum.” Taking her face in both his hands, he claimed her lips. “You know we’ve no need of a wedding to have a wedding night.”
She sighed into his kiss, thinking this was all she wanted for her daughter. To know that after more than twenty years of marriage, Rose would still feel as loved as she had on her wedding day.
FIFTY-EIGHT
JUDITH’S wedding celebration had lasted through the wee hours, and Rose had stayed till the end. The sun was high in the sky by the time she awakened the next day, hearing strange noises beneath her window.
Bangs and scrapes and shouts.
Construction.
Kit.
She rang for her maid. “Hurry,” she said when Harriet arrived. “The purple gown—no, the red and black damask.” The maid pulled it from the wardrobe and helped her wiggle into it. “Hurry.”
“I’m going as fast as I can, milady.” She laced Rose up the back.
“Tighter.” Rose wanted to look her best.
Harriet pushed her onto a chair and began combing through her tangled curls. “Whyever are you in such a rush?”
Rose gulped down some chocolate and nibbled on some bread. “I’d forgotten that today is the groundbreaking.”
“I see.” The maid twisted up the back of her hair. “I expect you’re more interested in the builder than the building, hmm?”
Rose didn’t care for the sound of that hmm. “Mr. Martyn is just a friend. After the lunacy of court life, I simply crave a sane conversation.” Kit had always been easy to talk to.
Harriet met her gaze in the mirror. “Hmm,” she said again.
“How is your love life?” Rose asked to distract her.
The maid’s freckled face lit with a smile as she chose a red ribbon. “Walter has said he will visit. I believe he will ask for my hand.”
It was on the tip of Rose’s tongue to protest, to tell Harriet she had no business getting married when she needed her. But she was feeling expansive this morning. “Where will you live?” she asked instead.
“We haven’t yet decided. And I don’t really care. Does it matter, so long as you’re together with the one you love?”
Rose’s ebullient mood plunged. Even Harriet was in love.
Love, love, love. All around her, people were in love. In that way, it had been easier to be at court. At least there she wasn’t constantly reminded just how lacking she was in love. At court, lust ruled the day—no one else at
