Everyone proceeded to discuss the matter. It ought to be soon, some of them believed. As soon as the banns could be called. There was no hurry at all, others felt. It would be better, in fact, to wait until all the unpleasantness had blown over—and remember that it was going to be added to tomorrow with this new announcement appearing in the paper. And it took time to plan just the sort of wedding one wanted.
There was more division on the question of where. A quiet church in London, Lord Molenor suggested while others agreed—perhaps the very one where Anna and Avery had married three years ago; Brambledean, Alexander thought; Riddings Park, his mother believed; Roxingley, Lord Hodges’s own home, would be splendid according to Lady Matilda.
Colin was growing a bit tired of being managed. Of feeling that control over his own life was slipping from him.
“There will be no banns,” he said, and everyone stopped talking to pay attention to him, almost as though they had only just realized that the prospective groom was there in their midst. He glanced at Elizabeth beside him. “We will marry by special license within the next week or two.” Not at Roxingley. Or at Brambledean or Withington either. Or at Riddings Park. “Here in London.”
“At St. George’s on Hanover Square,” Elizabeth added just when he was about to take up the idea of the small church where the Netherbys had married. He looked at her in some surprise and saw that her chin was raised a little higher than usual.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Radley said. “Are you quite sure, Lizzie? Will you not feel very much exposed to public view there?”
“Of course she is sure,” the dowager countess said. “They both are. They certainly don’t want it to look as if they feel they are creeping off to do something clandestine and a bit shameful. Of course it must be St. George’s. And the whole of thetonmust be invited. Nothing else will do.”
No. Not any of the people who were reveling in the cruel stories about her this week. “Friendswill be invited,” Colin said.
“And family,” Elizabeth added. “On both sides.”
His eyes were still on her. Her chin was still up. There was what looked distinctly like a martial gleam in her eye. Surely she was not thinking of…But when she turned her head to look back at him, he knew that she had indeed used that termon both sidesdeliberately.
It would be madness.
“The wedding breakfast will be held here,” Wren said. “In the ballroom.”
Colin was still looking at Elizabeth, and she was still looking back at him. He smiled suddenly. Indeed, he would have laughed outright if they had been alone.
She obviously felt no such inhibition. She laughed.
And suddenly she was the Elizabeth of Christmastime, a bright, merry star, a gleam of pure mischief in her eyes, a flush on her cheeks.
And he laughed with her.
“I have just had a very comical thought,” Lady Jessica Archer said. “Aunt Viola and the marquess are on their way here with Abby and Estelle and Bertrand. They are coming for Cousin Elizabeth’s wedding. And now they will be here in time for—Cousin Elizabeth’s wedding.” She laughed gleefully.
“They are going to be unspeakably confused when they arrive,” Alvin Cole said with a guffaw of merriment. “They will wonder if they misread the name of the bridegroom.”
Some of the laughter had gone from Elizabeth’s face. Colin touched the back of her hand with his fingertips and she smiled just for him.
Good God, he was betrothed. To this woman, whom he respected, even revered above all others. She was going to be hiswife.His lifelong companion and friend. Perhaps the mother of his children.
What the devil had he done?
•••
Elizabeth was seated at the escritoire in the morning room again, quill pen in hand, when Colin was admitted the following morning. Her mother and Aunt Lilian had gone shopping, and Wren and Alexander had taken Nathan in his perambulator for an airing in the park. She smiled, feeling all the strangeness of the fact that they were betrothed. It was official now. The notice had appeared in the morning papers. He strode across the room and bent over her to kiss her on the lips.
How lovely,she thought.How absolutely lovely.His blue eyes gazed into hers when he raised his head. She set down her pen carefully without wiping off the nib.
“You saw it?” he asked.
“The notice?” she said. “Yes, I did.”
He looked boyish and eager. “I am glad it is settled,” he said. “I am glad you cannot have second thoughts.”
Or was he glad thathecould not? She had lain awake half the night in a cold sweat of panic. The only thing that had calmed her in the end and allowed her at least a few hours of sleep was the fact that it was too late to do anything about it. She could hardly end two betrothals within a week, could she?
“What is amusing you?” he asked
“The thought that even the notorious Elizabeth Overfield could not call off two betrothals within one week,” she said.
