The two men had exchanged sober glances.
“Except put in an appearance at church at the right time on the right day to marry my sister,” Bertrand had said.
“I think I can manage that,” Justin had said. “Provided someone reminds me the day before.”
“I will do that,” Bertrand had said. “ProvidedEstelleremindsme.”
“I think I can manage that,” she had said.
They arrived at Redcliffe on a rainy afternoon.Unexpectedly, of course. They had sent no advance notice that they were on their way. But they must have been spotted from the drawing room windows. The marchioness was hurrying down the stairs even as they came dashing through the front doors out of the rain. She looked her usual elegant, lovely self, her face lit up with a smile of welcome.
“Well, this is a wonderful surprise,” she said, catching first Estelle and then Bertrand up in her arms and smiling politely at Justin beyond them. “Marcel is with Oliver in his office. He will be here in a moment. He is going to besohappy to see you.”
Oliver Morrow was the steward at Redcliffe—Estelle and Bertrand’s cousin, Aunt Jane and Uncle Charles’s son.
“The Earl of Brandon has come with us,” Estelle said. “The Marchioness of Dorchester, our stepmother, Justin.”
“But of course,” she said, extending a hand toward him. “Estelle and Bertrand have been staying at Everleigh Park with Lady Maria Wiley, your sister, have they not?”
“They have indeed, ma’am,” he said, shaking her hand. “To my great pleasure.”
“Justin and I are betrothed,” Estelle told her.
“Oh?” Her stepmother looked from one to the other of them. “Oh, goodness.”
But the marquess was striding into the hall, looking dearly familiar to Estelle—tall and solidly built, still wondrously handsome though he was close to fifty and silver hair had almost overtaken the dark at his temples.
“What is this?” he asked as he came toward them, smiling. “No warning? You are going to be giving our cook an apoplexy.”
“Papa.” Estelle did what she had always longed to do as a child and young girl. She dashed into his arms, whichclosed tightly about her and made her feel instantly safe. “We have come home. Oh, Papa.” She had had no idea she was going to be so emotional.
“What is it?” he said, his voice suddenly full of concern. “You are not crying, are you, Estelle? Has something happened? Bertrand? Why has the mere sight of me reduced your sister to tears? Ah. Brandon. You have come here with my twins, have you?”
“I have, sir,” Justin said. “And I think I may be a bit responsible for Estelle’s tears. I have come to ask if I may take her off your hands. For all time, I mean. I hope to marry her. I amgoingto marry her. But I would rather do it with your blessing, if it is something you are willing to give.”
“I am notweeping,” Estelle protested, horribly embarrassed. She loosened her hold on her father and swiped at her eyes with two fingers. “I am just happy to see you and Mother again and to be back home. Temporarily. I am indeed going to marry Justin, but I would rather it be with your blessing than not, Papa. Bertrand approves.”
“Well, that is a high recommendation indeed,” her father said, sounding perfectly serious. “But here are Viola and I, coping with the double surprise of your descending upon us without warning and your announcement that you are betrothed to Brandon, with whom I have the slimmest of acquaintances and Viola none at all. You must all make allowances for our advancing age.Shallwe sit down in the drawing room to discuss these matters and perhaps sip on a glass of wine while we do so? Possibly champagne—if, that is, I discover that my blessing is available to be given. And see how you have all sent my manners packing? Welcome to Redcliffe, Brandon.”
He strode toward Justin and shook his hand.
***
The following weeks were busy ones for both Estelle and her stepmother, even though they did not have a full wedding to plan. It seemed to Estelle that they spent more than half their days in the morning room, one of them at the escritoire, which had been placed beside the window to catch the morning light, the other at the table, which was usually used to hold needlework supplies.
There were invitations to write and send out to all the people on the list Estelle had compiled on the last day at Everleigh. It was a lengthy list, even though the decision had been made on both sides to confine the guests to family members. They had been fortunate with Justin’s family, of course—all of them had been at Everleigh to be invited in person, except for Sarah and Thomas Wickford.
Estelle divided the list of her own family members with her stepmother and they set to work. Then, of course, over the coming weeks there were the replies to read and compile into two lists, of those who could and would come to the wedding, and those few who could not for various reasons. The former list had to be sent on to Lady Crowther at Everleigh so that she could plan accordingly.
Estelle’s stepsiblings—Camille, Harry, and Abigail—would come, though Camille’s family was too large to travel en masse. They had done it in the spring for Harry’s birthday and surprise wedding, but it had been a heroic undertaking. This time Joel would remain at home with most of the children while Camille came with Winifred, her eldest daughter, and with Andrew, her deaf son, and Robbie, the son who gave them the most trouble, though he was devoted to Andrew.
Anna, Duchess of Netherby, would be unable to travel,as by October she would be getting close to her confinement. But the duke would attend with Josephine, his eldest daughter, and Jonah, his son. Mrs.Kingsley, the marchioness’s mother, would come from Bath with Camille. The Reverend Michael Kingsley, Viola’s brother, and his wife would come all the way from Dorsetshire. The Earl of Riverdale, head of the Westcott family, would come with his countess, though Elizabeth, the earl’s sister, Lady Hodges, and her husband sent their regrets as they were about to embark for Ireland, where Lord Hodges had relatives. The Dowager Countess of Riverdale, once Viola’s mother-in-law, and her sister also declined with regrets, as the countess’s physician—“that old tyrant”—had ordered her to travel less if she hoped to live into her eighties. Her daughters would attend, however—Matilda with Viscount Dirkson, her husband; Louise, Dowager Duchess of Netherby; and Mildred with Lord Molenor, her husband. Jessica, Countess of Lyndale, the dowager duchess’s daughter, was in the early stages of a second pregnancy and was suffering wretchedly and annoyingly just as she had the first time. The mere thought of a carriage ride was enough to prostrate her.
Sometimes Estelle felt she was inviting half of England to her wedding. She even briefly regretted not suggesting to Justin that after all they do what Anna and Avery had once famously done and go off somewhere to marry privately without a word to anyone until afterward. For all she really wanted was to be married to Justin and living with him at Everleigh.
Though no, she always realized just moments after entertaining these treacherous thoughts, that was notallshe wanted. She wanted to be married to Justin and living at Everleigh with him, with strong, active connections withevery single member of their families, including the extended branches—the Westcotts, the Yorkshire group, and the Morts. She wanted her marriage to be a family affair—and her wedding too.
So she returned to all the letter writing.
