His bright, wonderful angel.
But when he tried to verbalize his feelings for her he only embarrassed himself horribly and was very thankful he had not spoken aloud.
There were certain busy little tasks to accomplish during those four days and letters to write and a whole host of people to visit. He closed down the rooms that had been his home for five years and spent a few hours with his man of business. Elizabeth wrote to his mother and Blanche to thank them for coming to the wedding and making the day more memorable for them. She assured them that she looked forward to seeing them at Roxingley after the Season came to an end and to witnessing the reunion of all the Handrich family—for Wren, being one of the most courageous women Colin knew, had agreed that she and Alexander would be there.
They called upon all the members of her family—to thank those who had come from afar to help celebrate their nuptials, to thank the others for all the love and support they had shown in the past few weeks. They had all agreed to come to Roxingley for a few weeks of the summer, but farewells still had to be said now.
They called at the house on Curzon Street the day before they planned to leave, but his mother was not at home. It was unusual for her to be out, especially very early in the afternoon, and it did occur to Colin that perhaps she had simply chosen not to see them. But he did not argue the point. They would call tomorrow on their way out of London. Blanche had replied to Elizabeth’s letter to inform her that she and Nelson would certainly be at Roxingley, since she had not seen Ruby or her husband for many years and would like to do so now—and to meet their children.
“She is thawing,” Elizabeth said as she showed him the letter—a brief, rather cold little note. “We will give her time, Colin. As much time as she needs. And we must work on Nelson too. A stranger, more silent man I have never met, but I suspect that he really cares for Blanche. We will give them both time. You will have your larger family yet. I predict it with the greatest confidence.”
“Oh, do you?” he asked, bending over the escritoire at which she sat to kiss the back of her neck. She looked back at him with twinkling eyes, his favorite expression of hers. Or perhaps a cofavorite with several others.
“I do,” she said. “I have consulted my crystal ball.”
They could not leave town quietly on the appointed morning. For one thing, there was no point in arriving too early on Curzon Street. It had always taken his mother several hours to prepare herself to face the day, even back in the time when she was naturally youthful and lovely. And she had never been an early riser. For another thing, Wren had insisted that they take breakfast at the house on South Audley Street and several of the Westcotts had promised to call there to see them on their way.
“I suppose,” he said to Elizabeth, “we can expect a grand send-off.”
“It is a little absurd, is it not,” she said, “when it will be all of five days after our wedding. But one can expect no less of the Westcotts, you know. It would not surprise me if a few Radleys slipped in there too.”
“I do love your family,” he said, grinning. “Alexander’s neighbors will doubtless lodge an official complaint about the noise.”
“Not to mention several carriages plugging the street,” she added.
All proceeded much as they had predicted until, late on the morning of their departure, the roadway outside Alexander’s house was lined with carriages and the pavement before the door was clogged with people all talking at once and all insisting upon kissing Elizabeth and pumping Colin’s hand.
“And here comes someone else,” Jessica announced suddenly above the hubbub. “Oh…Goodness.”
“Oh look, Mama,” Winifred cried. “Look, Papa. Look, Sarah. A fairy coach.”
The white carriage drawn by the four white horses proceeded slowly along the street and came to a halt in the middle of the road while the family fell more or less silent in order to look.
“It must be your mother, Colin,” his mother-in-law said unnecessarily.
Well at least, Colin thought, drawing Elizabeth’s arm through his and stepping off the curb with her to approach the carriage, they would not now have to delay their journey further by stopping at the Curzon Street house.
The white-and-gold liveried footman who had been seated beside the coachman had jumped smartly down from his perch in order to open the carriage door and set down the steps. His mother was going to get out, then, was she?
But it was Lord Ede who descended to the road first and looked unhurriedly at Colin and Elizabeth before turning to hand down Colin’s mother, youthful and resplendent as usual in dazzling white with a fine lace facial veil falling from the brim of her hat. She stood beside him and looked benevolently from Colin to Elizabeth.
“My dearest son,” she said, “and my dear Lady Hodges. You must understand that I really could not bear to be known as theDowagerLady Hodges. Such a lowering, dowdy word. It would make me feel positively old and everyone would laugh and tell me how ludicrous it was and ask which Lady Hodges was the dowager. That would be tiresome for both of us. So I have changed my name. And my home. I daresay you planned to stuff me into a remote wing of Roxingley and to try convincing me that you were doing me a great favor. Pah!”
“Your mother married me by special license yesterday, my boy,” Lord Ede said, looking very directly at Colin, a smile playing about his lips.
“Yes. I am Lady Ede,” Colin’s mother said. “Of course, everyone will marvel that I have chosen an older man and will whisper that I must have married Ede for his money. But that would be absurd, as your father left me a very tidy allowance, dearest. But marrying an older man is perhaps better than doing the opposite, though any number of young men have wooed me in the past eight years. I have always preferred experience to youth.”
The hubbub suddenly resumed while everyone, it seemed, felt it necessary to congratulate the newlyweds and wish them well.
“Mother.” Elizabeth stepped forward, both hands extended. “I am delighted for you. I do wish you happy.”
“Yes,” Lady Ede said. “I daresay you do.”
Colin was gazing at Lord Ede, who looked back, one mocking eyebrow raised. “I suppose,” Colin said quietly, extending his right hand, “this is not necessarily an answer to my question, is it?”
“Not necessarily,” Lord Ede agreed. “But I will tell you this, my boy. If I were to have another son—I have two, you know—I could not ask for a better one than you.”
Their hands met and clasped. His father? Colin wondered. Or not? He would probably never know for sure either way. But Elizabeth was right, he discovered. The past ought not to be allowed to cloud the present or obscure the future. Really it did not matter terribly much. The man he had always called father had never shown him much love or given him much attention, but ultimately he had done right by him. And he had done right by Wren too. He must surely have known that she had a better chance of a decent life with a caring mother figure like Aunt Megan than she did at Roxingley.
