Which he did, to marvelous effect!
And in very good time, by my request, for I still wish for some solitude. So here I sit not twenty minutes later, in a glow of marital bliss and ready to resume my task.
Though I cannot help wondering how it is that I am just now learning of this daytime option. I’ve been married a whole week!
I suppose lack of opportunity may well account for it. When the Christmas party broke up (a day early) on the morning after our wedding, we removed to Twineham Park at once. The first half of that day was spent in frenzied preparations for my departure, and the second in the enclosed chaise.
(And though some might reckon such a vehicle as a fit venue for romance, anybody sharing one with their cat would attest otherwise.)
Since arriving here, we’ve been kept on the hop by a constant stream of morning callers and evening engagements. Not that I mean to complain, for setting up house has been rather a joy! At Greystone I was expected to carry on Rachael’s ways, while here I may run things just as I please.
It is a lot of work, however, what with everything being so much larger and grander: the house, the lovely park, and the army of staff we must hire to maintain them. Some of the old servants have returned, but many found other positions or (rumor has it) defected to the dowager’s residence. I imagine replacing them all will take some weeks. Until then we’ll just have to muddle through.
Even so, I adore the house. It’s a Palladian mansion full of well-proportioned rooms and Chippendale furniture, and already I grow too fond of lofty ceilings and modern conveniences to ever go back to castle living. The chimneys don’t smoke! The windows go up and down! We have three water closets with the new flush toilets, and—if you can believe it!—even one of Feetham’s Patent ShowerBaths (though I do wish it weren’t so cold).
Best of all, instead of a dingy old storeroom, I’m to have a new workshop with good light, as well as a safe that doesn’t require a handful of keys and the memory of an elephant. Hurrah!
Our neighbors are another bright spot, for they seem a lively and attentive set. On visiting, they’ve all effusively welcomed me and conveyed warm wishes for our new union. Few failed to raise the subject of the previous duchess’s unsociable habits, nor hint at their satisfaction in finding me her reverse. And none left without securing our attendance at their forthcoming dinner party, dance, or card game.
Of course, this left us bound to return their hospitality. We did so last night, gathering nearly twenty couples between our neighbors and guests for a New Year’s Eve ball. I delivered the invitations in person, along with anxious warnings and advance apologies for the present deficiency of our household.
But despite dire predictions, my ball was a triumph. This was mostly due to my vastly clever (if totally unwitting) strategy of lowering everyone’s expectations, which allowed them all to find our style of entertaining rather better than anticipated. By the same token, I was discovered to be a capital hostess and charming addition to the neighborhood. Double hurrah!
But alas, nearly four pages I’ve filled and not a word of it to the purpose. I’ve yet even to mention the striking episode which prompted this writing. Horsefeathers, what a jumble I am at present!
The blame lays with my husband and his infernal interruptions. Even now he calls out to me from the bedchamber. But I shall not answer him. Tempted though I may be, I shall brook no further distractions.
3 o’clock. — Very well, that was the final distraction.
And I cannot be faulted for giving in, I’ll have you know! Jonathan has become quite expert at ordering me about in that gruff way he has, and if it weren’t for his being the very embodiment of kindness and decency, I should be properly afraid of his wielding such power. (Also if I didn’t enjoy it so much.)
At any rate, I am now back at my writing desk and determined not to move an inch till I have finished. Jonathan and his tricks be hanged!
The story begins with Christmas dinner—with the plum pudding, to be exact. Our old family recipe calls for little silver charms to be baked into the pudding, which are said to confer special blessings upon whoever should discover them. And this year’s distribution of charms was auspicious indeed!
It went as follows:
Found by me: the ship, conferring safe harbor
Found by Jonathan: the wishbone, conferring good luck
Found by Lady Caroline: the ring, conferring a forthcoming marriage
Found by Elizabeth: the coin, conferring a fortune in the offing
Found by Mr. Nathaniel Chase: the thimble, conferring a life of blessedness
Now, to understand the pertinence of all the charms will require some further explanation.
The first two we may dispense with in rapid fashion, for obviously, I’ve at last found (1) safe harbor in the arms of my beloved. Meanwhile, Jonathan has had the great (2) good luck to win his bride after such a series of misfortunes and misunderstandings kept us apart.
Hurrah for love!
Now on to the next. Sometime following the conclusion of the Christmas Day gift exchange, a little cache of unopened presents was discovered—all addressed to Lady Caroline! It was at that point we realized she had never returned to the drawing room, and nor had her champion, Captain Talbot.
After Rachael volunteered to go up and knock on the Opal Room’s door, she returned not with a heartened Caroline, but with a note hastily scrawled in her hand. When Rachael read it aloud, we all got a shock: Caroline and Captain Talbot had eloped! (3) A forthcoming marriage!
Nobody appeared more shocked than Elizabeth, and as Noah galloped off to alert the would-be-bride’s father, I contrived an opportunity to console her in private. Though the captain is a rogue who everyone knows to be drowning in debt (and though in truth I am thrilled he was stolen from under Elizabeth’s nose), still I felt she deserved compassion for suffering such a disappointment.
