“It will be rushed.”
“Too rushed?”
She shook her head with a smile.
After learning she was to be a flower girl, Bella described the dress she would like made for the wedding, of crimson silk, similar to the one their mother wore in a portrait at Leeming Hall. Judging by the look on Carrie’s face, Nicholas doubted it would pass muster.
“How long will it take to drive to Great Witcombe?” Jeremy asked.
“We’ll be away for a couple of days.”
Finally satisfied, Jeremy left the room to visit the mews stables, and Bella hurried out to tell Miss Scotsdale the news.
Nicholas enjoyed the chance for a few moments alone with Carrie. He slipped his arm around her. “Michael Warren will take care of the invitations.”
“I’ve brought the list for him. Gwen and I worked on it before we went to bed.”
“You must be weary, my love.”
“Pleasantly so.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Carrie,” he murmured. He took her chin in his palm and raised her face for his kiss. Her lips softened under his, her hand stroked his nape. The kiss lengthened.
A knock brought them apart. “Come,” Nicholas said, drawing away with a sigh.
The footman entered to collect the tea tray.
Carrie lowered her head to hide her flushed cheeks. “How lovely it was of Winston to offer to walk me down the aisle.”
“He’s a splendid fellow indeed.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “I’ll drive you back. You might like to rest before dinner. Would you prefer Bella and Miss Scotsdale to stay with you while we’re away?”
“Bella would like that.” She laughed. “And it will give me time to change her mind about her dress. That one would be far too old for her.”
He called for his curricle, and with her hand in his, they walked to the front door. His plans for the honeymoon he kept even from Carrie. He had booked passage for them to sail on the tide the day after their wedding, held on Sunday morning at St. James’s Church on Piccadilly.
Dominic was in London. Nicholas planned to seek him out at his club. He grinned, looking forward to it. Dom would be surprised to hear his news. Would he feel threatened? Another of his friends had succumbed to the parson’s mousetrap.
***
The two days following Nicholas and Jeremy’s departure, Carrie was still busy with the wedding arrangements. She persuaded Bella to accept a dress more suitable for a young flower girl and had a fitting for her wedding dress. She wrote a personal wedding invitation to Lady Penelope, adding how much they would like her there. Would she accept? Lady Penelope had mentioned that she did not go about as much as she used to, but she did seem to enjoy her stay at Elm Park.
As the wedding breakfast was to be at Gwen and Winston’s home, Gwen had taken over the arrangements.
When the third day dawned with no word from Nicholas, Carrie set out with Anna after breakfast to walk to his house, which was several streets away.
On arrival, a footman told her his lordship had not yet returned.
“They might have spent more time at the ruins than expected,” Anna said helpfully as they walked back.
“I shouldn’t worry,” Carrie said. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”
Carrie angled her parasol over her head to block the bright sunlight.
A coach pulled up beside them, and the door opened.
“May I offer you a ride, young ladies?” Nicholas asked, jumping down.
Her heart beat fast at the sight of him, home, safe. She twirled her parasol. “I assume you offer this service to all young ladies?”
“Only the pretty ones.”
Anna giggled.
Once seated in the coach, Carrie heard Jeremy’s enthusiastic description of the Roman villa, its two bathhouses, and mosaics and artifacts. Pleased that her brother had enjoyed himself, she nodded and met Nicholas’s eyes, warm with promise.
When they entered the house, having learned where Bella was to be found, Jeremy ran upstairs.
“This came for you, Miss Leeming.” The butler handed Carrie a letter.
Carrie tore it open and perused it. “It’s from Lady Penelope. She must have sent it by return post. Although not at all surprised, she is most pleased. She was leaving directly and wishes me to please advise Nicholas to have a bedchamber prepared for her at Pennington Court.” Carrie giggled. “She prefers a northerly or westerly aspect, as she despises the morning sun.”
Nicholas laughed as they walked into the parlor. “Tell me what you have been up to while I’ve been away.”
Seated together on the sofa, she gave him a shortened version, making him laugh at her struggle with Bella’s gown. “What about our honeymoon, Nicholas? You haven’t said where we are going.”
He leaned over and kissed her, gazing deep into her eyes. “It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises,” Gwen said from the doorway. “Good to see you back safely, Nicholas. Carrie has been extremely busy, seeing to the wedding gowns, the invitations, and consulting the rector about the church decorations. I’ve arranged the breakfast menu with my chef and hired the musicians. You will find everything has been miraculously completed in your absence. That trip of yours was remarkably well-timed, I must say.”
Nicholas chuckled. “I’ve always prided myself on my sense of timing.” He removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Carrie.
“The special license. How wonderful.” Carrie lifted her gaze to his.
Nicholas turned to his sister. “All jokes aside, you have been a tremendous help to us, Gwen, in all of this.”
“We are so grateful,” Carrie added warmly.
“I think this occasion calls for a glass of wine, don’t you?” Gwen said. “I’ll ask Winston to send for some of the French champagne he has secreted away in the cellar for a special occasion.
