“Well, we shall have to take care of that then,” said Matthew. “I would suggest an interview with your financial people, of course. And then perhaps a review of what the situation is in the north. Get some groundwork done. Then turn your attention to who might profit or benefit from throwing dirt on the Maidenbrooke name.”
The three men stared at Matthew with varying expressions of surprise.
“What?” asked Matthew. “I do have a brain, you know, even though I’m the youngest here.”
Miles chuckled. “You astound us all, my lad. Excellent advice, and yes, we all know you’ve a sharp mind behind that pretty face of yours.”
The Duke leapt in, knowing the conversation could easily degenerate into good-natured insults if he didn’t get a word in. “Yes, I agree, Matthew. It is excellent advice and pretty much what I sort of planned to do initially.” He frowned. “Sad thing is, I can’t think of anyone who would have anything to gain by bringing me low. And when I cast my mind over what I know of my holdings, it didn’t reveal anything controversial at all.”
“Plus the Maidenbrooke name isn’t just some small matter, your Grace,” added Mowbray. “There are generations attached to it, much power, and a lot of people depending on it for their living. I can see no positive result to such negativity.”
“Me neither,” sighed Colly.
A loud knock was followed by the door opening and several female heads peering around it.
“I knew it.” Lady Rose Linfield tsked. “Drinking. And before noon.”
“Just sharing a companionable interlude with our fellows, my dear,” said Miles to his wife. “The sort of thing gentlemen do from time to time.”
“When they’re trying to avoid their assigned chores,” said Lydia dryly. “But your time is up, I’m afraid.” She pushed the door fully open.
“I have a list.” Ivy’s eyes met the Duke’s, and the smile she sent him warmed him to his toes. “We need chairs moved, the dining room opened up and several pieces of furniture shifted around. There is also the matter of the old china bureau. The key isn’t working properly and one of the doors is stuck shut.”
“In other words, you need our manly strengths?” Mowbray asked politely, his voice smooth as butter.
Lydia made a scoffing noise.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Come on. Put the drinks down. It’s time to get to work.”
Her husband sighed and stood. “Yes, dear.” Then he turned to the Duke. “Remember this moment, your Grace. A harbinger of things to come.”
Colly, his eyes still on Ivy, merely nodded. But inside his head was a little whisper… “I do hope so.”
*~~*~~*
Just before six o’clock, everyone in the castle gathered in what was once a Great Hall. Over the years it had become a ballroom, but it still retained a mediaeval feel; high curved ceilings and ancient stonework emphasising the history of the place and more modern touches of glass windows, chandeliers massed with candles, and elegant parquet flooring reminding those present that it was now a modern ballroom.
For this occasion, chairs had been grouped on each side, facing the musician’s dais, which now held a bible stand and two large vases of flowers.
In fact there were flowers everywhere, courtesy of the gardener and his lads, who had a bit of a contest going with cook and her staff. Each was determined to garner more compliments than the other on this auspicious day.
A boot boy and his scullery maid counterpart had been assigned to eavesdrop as best they could on the guests attending the celebration, counting the number of compliments by marking dots on small pieces of paper.
They had sworn to be honest, under pain of severe repercussions. The cook and the gardener were creative when it came to threats, so as the elegant ladies and gentlemen took their seats, two small bodies crept stealthily around the other pots of plants and flowers, listening to their conversations.
There were three empty seats in the front row; they would be occupied by Judith, Lady Withersby, Rose, Lady Linfield and Miss Lydia Davenport. All three ladies would be escorting their best friend Ivy as she walked up the ballroom aisle to the dais.
Miles Linfield had accepted groomsman duties, and Miss Prudence Hartsmere walked her uncle up to the front, then took a seat next to Lady Siddington and Lady Sydenham, both of whom were grinning from ear to ear.
Although Ivy had expected her grandmother to walk with her to the makeshift altar, she’d accepted the suggestion that if Lord Sydenham would do the honours, her grandmama could relax and enjoy every minute, something she declared herself eager to do. So Matthew Davenport had escorted the elderly lady to the large chair in the front row, seating her with all the courtesy and charm at his command.
He earned nods of approval from Mrs Ashrayn and Lady Sydenham and took his seat after winking at Prudence, who shot him a tiny wave of her hand and an approving grin. The entire Siddington household was present, of course, as were many of the estate residents, who had known Ivy as a child and were thrilled to be able to celebrate her marriage. And to a Duke, too. Just fancy that...
Ivy was unaware of all this, of course, since she was busily trying to explain to her entourage why this whole thing was a big mistake.
“Do shut up, dearest,” said Lydia patiently. “You are marrying the Duke for the best of reasons. He needs your help, you are already quite fond of him and it’ll be the match of the Season.”
“Not to mention one of the best weddings of the Season too,” added Rose. “So much more fun than the stuffy ones in St. George’s chapel.”
“You will be fine, love,” Judith hugged her. “Nerves are normal. You’re surrounded by
