“I suppose she’ll contrive to come along either way.” Chrystabel sifted through the basket on her arm, checking that all her perfumes were in order. “But you must leave her in the carriage. You know cats make Lady Carrington sneeze.”
Half an hour later, Lily stood on the steps of Carrington House with her mother and Rose. As Chrystabel lifted the knocker, a sneeze resounded from inside.
“Beatrix is in the carriage,” Lily said defensively. Glancing back to make sure, she saw a small black nose pressed to the vehicle’s window. Jasper and Lady sat atop the carriage’s roof, looking similarly innocent.
The door opened, and a butler ushered them into the drawing room, where Lady Carrington was waiting with coffee, expensive imported tea, and cakes. Judith sat on a sturdy carved chair, dabbing at her nose with a lace-edged handkerchief.
Chrystabel set her basket on a table and raised the cloth covering. “Your usual blend,” she said to Lady Carrington, handing her a bottle of scent. “And for you, Lady Judith, a new blend to celebrate your betrothal. More fitting for a lady of your status.”
“It’s more spicy,” Rose explained.
Judith’s eyes widened. “Oooh, may I see?”
Lily brought the perfume to her friend, pulling the stopper out as she went. She waved the bottle under her own nose and smiled before handing it to Judith. “It smells lovely.”
Judith dabbed a bit on one wrist and raised it to her reddened nose. “It does. Even all stuffy, I can tell. Thank you ever so much, Lady Trentingham.”
“You’re very welcome, dear.”
Replacing the stopper, Judith stood. “Would you care to see the fabric for my wedding gown?” she asked Lily and Rose. “And the style? Madame left a fashion doll for me to show you.”
They followed her up the curving oak staircase.
“I think the dress will be ever so beautiful,” Judith said, pausing for a sneeze. “Lord, I’m so excited about my wedding.”
“You should be,” Rose said somewhat wistfully.
The wedding dress fashion doll reclined in a place of honor against Judith’s mauve pillows in her feminine room. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“It is,” Lily agreed softly. The doll’s gown was palest blue with a wide neckline and golden ribbons crisscrossing the stomacher. The underskirt was cloth of gold.
Suddenly, quite unbidden, an image popped into her head—of herself wearing such a gown and standing beside Rand. The blue fabric brought out the hue in her eyes, which were fastened on Rand as she recited her vows. The golden underskirt shimmered, rustling when she moved…
“You’re so lucky,” Rose told Judith, snapping Lily out of her reverie.
She closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them with new determination. She should be picturing Rose standing beside Rand, rather than thinking disloyal thoughts.
Settling into the window seat, Judith sneezed again. “Pardon me,” she said with a sniffle. Then her voice dropped a notch. “I’m lucky about the wedding,” she mumbled, “but I’m worried about the wedding night.”
Her heart aching for her friend, Lily forgot her own troubles. She sat beside Judith and took her hands. “You’ll be fine,” she told her with all the confidence she could muster. “All brides are nervous.”
“Do you think so?”
“Goodness, I’m sure of it.” She slanted a glance to Rose before looking back to her friend. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Absolutely. But I’ve seen Lord Grenville, and—”
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Lily rushed to clarify. “I just wondered if you believed. In the abstract.”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Judith had always been a romantic. “That’s why I—”
“I believe in love at first sight,” Rose interrupted. “I fell in love with Lord Randal the very first time I saw him.”
Despite her worries, Judith grinned. “You fall in love with every man you see.”
“I do not,” Rose protested. “Only the handsome ones. Like Rand.”
Rand, Rand, Rand. Lily rose and paced back to the doll, staring at its pale blue magnificence. She would never feel right wearing a wedding dress before Rose was Lady Somebody.
“There are cakes downstairs,” Judith said into the sudden silence.
Lily was all too happy to escape the discussion, but no sooner had they reentered the drawing room than Rose revived it. “Mum,” she asked, “do you believe in love at first sight?”
“What nonsense,” Lady Carrington said, her chins trembling with indignation. “Love grows between two suited individuals. It was that way for me, and it will be the same for my Judith and Lord Grenville.” She brushed crumbs from her mouth and motioned her daughter closer. “Come here, dear. Have a cake.”
Judith took two. Evidently her illness wasn’t affecting her appetite.
“Mum?” Rose pressed.
Chrystabel set down her teacup. “I do believe in love at first sight,” she said firmly. “I experienced it with your father.”
Lady Carrington harrumphed.
“Of course,” Mum continued undaunted, “dear Joseph took some convincing. I’ve yet to meet a man who believes in love at first sight.”
Lily knew one. One who was trying to convince her.
“Nonsense,” Lady Carrington repeated as she reached for another cake.
Lily’s mother smiled charmingly and changed the subject. “Have you heard the latest?” she asked, lifting her cup. “Two more of my introductions are culminating in marriages. Lady Eleanor Randolph is betrothed to Lord Ducksworth. And you’re not going to believe this.” She paused to sip for effect. “I’ve managed to match the eternal bachelor.”
Lady Carrington’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”
“Yes.” Chrystabel nodded proudly. “Lord Percival Newcombe.”
“No!” her friend gasped, a cake halfway to her lips. “To whom?”
EIGHTEEN
“JOSEPH,” Chrystabel said as she slid into bed beside him that night, “do you believe in love at first sight?”
He came up on an elbow and eyed her warily. “Is this a trick question?”
“No.”
“Then no. I don’t believe in love at first sight.”
“No?”
“Yes? Is yes the right answer? I’ve never thought about it, my love.”
She laughed. He was such a man.
Chrystabel loved the nights, the precious hours spent alone with her husband in their thick-walled bedchamber. Here, where the sound of
