Libby’s sole bridesmaid would be her old friend and costumer, Edwina Fishburn, who’d stood by her side through a life of tribulations.
“Do we remember the order?” Lady Penny inquired.
She was as organized as an army sergeant, and the crowd straightened, and there was a general murmuring of yes. They’d attended the rehearsal the previous day, so they’d practiced their parts and were eager to proceed.
Sandy’s sons, Tim and Tom, were the ushers, with Lady Penny having dug up clothes for them to wear. They dawdled behind her, prepared to leap into action and carry out any command she leveled.
“Clara,” Lady Penny said, “you’ll go down first and toss your flower petals.” Clara beamed with pride and lifted her basket to show it off. “You’ll scoot into the front pew on the left. Be sure there’s room for Joanna and Jacob.”
“Caro and Caleb,” Lady Penny continued, “or should I say, Mr. and Mrs. Ralston? You’re next. Front pew on the right. Joanna and Jacob, you’ll be after them. Front pew on the left.” Lady Penny checked her notes. “I will follow and sit by Caro, so don’t forget to leave some space for me.”
“I won’t,” Caro said.
“Then Fish will go down, and Libby will be the only one remaining.” Lady Penny frowned at her father, Lord Roland. “My lord Father, can you get Libby down to Luke? You won’t faint, will you?”
“I won’t faint,” Lord Roland replied. “I didn’t have the chance to walk you down the aisle, Penny.” Lady Penny had eloped with Simon Falcon, so it was still a sore spot between them. “I’m glad one of my daughters was kind enough to let me have this wonderful honor.”
Libby had met her father at a house party earlier that summer. After it had been revealed that she was his long-lost child, Little Henrietta, they’d had a rocky start to their relationship. But now, they were fully reconciled and as close as a father and daughter could ever be.
Libby rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Father won’t faint. He’s too stalwart to quail with anxiety. Not when I desperately need him to be steady.”
Everyone smiled, and some people dabbed at their eyes.
It had been such a traumatic and dramatic few months for all of them. With it being the twentieth anniversary of the shipwreck, Joanna, Libby, and Caro had been unusually distressed, bombarded by painful memories and recurring nightmares. Then they’d crossed paths with the men of their dreams, but none of their amours had been easily pursued.
Libby had ended up in jail. Caro had run away from her male kin, then she’d been robbed and left penniless on the streets of London. Joanna had had her cottage burned down around her.
Caro and Caleb had wed the prior afternoon, after the rehearsal had concluded. It had been a private ceremony with just Libby, Joanna, Luke, and Jacob as witnesses. In a thrilling turn of events, Jacob had served as Caleb’s best man.
The two brothers had bonded during Caleb’s trip to Ralston Place, and Joanna was certain, in the future, they would be the siblings that family circumstance had prevented them from being in the past.
As to her own wedding, she’d let Jacob pick the time and venue, and he’d chosen to have the banns called at their local church in Ralston village. It meant they’d marry a month hence, with the neighbors and servants joining in the merriment. His chief concern had been the fact that Margaret and Sandy were still in Scotland on their honeymoon, and he didn’t want to proceed without them being able to participate.
Joanna was praying that Margaret wouldn’t be too shocked about what had occurred when she’d been away from home and not present to stop him. Hopefully, now that Margaret had made her own ill-conceived marriage, some of her snobbery would have waned. Joanna was an optimist, and she would embrace the positive expectation that Margaret would become a fond sister.
Mr. Periwinkle bustled up. He appeared jaunty in a new suit he’d purchased for the occasion. Libby had offered to have him sit toward the front of the church during the ceremony, but he’d been aghast at the idea, viewing himself as too lowly a person to be seated with the more important guests.
He was hovering in the background, scribbling copious notes, and jotting down quotes from the spectators. Libby had given him permission to pen whatever articles he liked about the wedding, as well as the days of celebration afterward—if he promised she would always be described as beautiful and extraordinary.
Since the poor man worshiped her, there was no chance he’d write his stories any other way.
“How are you, Miss Joanna?” he inquired. “Are you happy?”
“Must you ask that question, Mr. Periwinkle? Can’t you judge my delightful mood just by looking at me?”
“And how about you, sir?” he said to Jacob. “How does it feel to be marrying one of the Lost Girls?”
“It feels amazing. How would you suppose? I don’t know how I’ll be patient enough to wait an entire month for my own festivities.”
“If your famous father could be here today,” Mr. Periwinkle asked, “what do you imagine he’d say to you?”
Jacob smirked. “I imagine he’d chastise me for taking so long to propose to Joanna. Were you aware that when I met her, I didn’t realize how she was connected to me?”
“Miss Joanna!” Periwinkle exclaimed. “How could you keep the news from him?”
Joanna chuckled. “I didn’t want to tell him all my secrets at once. A woman needs to be a bit mysterious, don’t you think?”
Jacob linked their fingers, and he leaned over and kissed her—right on the mouth. Mr. Periwinkle wandered away, writing furiously in his notebook, no doubt recording that they
