Rules were different among the noble classes, where she and her husband would exist in separate spheres.
Louisa had always lived at the center of a crowd. She may not have moved among the highest echelons of Knickerbocker society, but she was popular and respected within her own social set. How might the British blue-bloods feel about a twenty-year-old, newly moneyed newcomer joining their ranks when everyone in England measured their lineage in centuries?
Her friends understood none of her concerns. Her parents merely patted her hand and disregarded her fears, likely because they had no sage advice to give. Everyone she relied on for guidance focused only on the conquest she’d made and on the good she might do as the Marchioness of Granborough.
Her bridesmaids and classmates from Miss Brown’s School joined her on the landing. They’d had their fill of cake and champagne, but were ravenous for any morsel of gossip concerning the day.
“You’re the luckiest girl in the world,” said Virginia McKee. “Your husband is so handsome!”
Louisa agreed. Reservations aside, she had done exceptionally well for herself.
Another friend, Claribel Bruerton, buoyed Louisa’s spirits by offering, “His Lordship seems nice, if a little bored.” She laughed. “I think he dozed off during the service.”
It had been a very long, formal production of a wedding ceremony, complete with choristers and hymns, readings and sermons. Louisa’s parents were so pleased with her match that they hadn’t spared one moment of this Saturday afternoon. The festivities would carry on long after the bride and groom departed for their honeymoon.
The honeymoon! That mysterious event was all the belles could gossip over, dream of, laugh at, and speculate about.
Madeleine de Gruyter looped a slender arm through hers, forming a united front of school-girl friends. She whispered, “What has your mother told you about the wedding night?”
“Nothing,” replied Louisa, who hadn’t got a straight answer from anybody on what she might expect. “Apparently, it isn’t for me to know, it is for my husband to show me.”
She spied His Lordship far below, moving stiffly through the throng of guests. His hair was not quite blond, not quite brown, but something honeyed and in-between. He bent his head to consult his gold pocket watch, noting the time.
Noting her tardiness.
As if he sensed her presence, His Lordship glanced up, meeting her gaze from the foyer below. He possessed shrewd blue eyes and a grim, aristocratic mouth. Louisa had never seen him smile.
“Are you afraid of him?” Madeleine asked.
“I wouldn’t have married someone I was afraid of. Lord Granborough has always treated me with courtesy, despite our frequent differences of opinion.”
Virginia cast her a frightful glance. “Oh, Louisa, you mustn’t vex him so!”
It was true that he treated her decently, but there were moments when she caught him unawares, the shade fell from his eyes, and he appeared miserable. Louisa goaded him because she couldn’t abide that look—or the thought that she, and whatever circumstances that brought him to seek a bride abroad, might be to blame.
She turned from His Lordship to address her friends. “I guess I’d better go. If I wait much longer, we’ll miss the boat.”
Louisa held back her tears as she bid farewell to her classmates. The Thurston Reids had moved to the city while Louisa attended Miss Brown’s School. Her life and the lives of these girls were intertwined, and she could trace that thread from the first day she’d stepped foot in school to this moment now, starting her journey as a married woman.
She descended the stairs of her parents’ home, dressed in a blue ‘going away’ ensemble that had only recently arrived from Paris with the rest of her trousseau. Everything she needed to begin her life abroad had been stowed in thirty-two matching trunks, valises, jewelry cases, hatboxes, and portmanteaux, which were being loaded onto a baggage wagon and delivered to the Cunard pier.
Lord Granborough met her in the foyer. If he was annoyed by her unpunctuality, he gave no sign of it. As usual, his handsome face was inscrutable. Louisa couldn’t fathom whether His Lordship was happy with her, or how he felt their wedding ceremony had gone. She only knew that he offered her his arm in that rigidly refined way he managed everything in his daily life.
“Have you all that you require, Louisa?”
Louisa—he’d given up calling her Miss Thurston Reid, yet she couldn’t remember when the intimacy had started. She, however, had never been anything but formal with him. She’d only learned his given name a few hours earlier when she promised to love and obey him for as long as she lived.
She placed her gloved hand on his sleeve. “No turning back now, my lord.”
He guided her through the foyer, a space overcrowded with friends and family, guests, and faces she didn’t recognize. A large party had traveled from Westchester, and Louisa assumed these were carpet mill people invited by her father.
Her parents stood by the door. The entire house had been festooned with palm fronds, lilies of the valley, and Niphetos roses. A bower of these sumptuous blooms framed the exit, and Louisa paused beneath it to kiss her parents.
How she would miss her dear father’s drooping mustache! She’d loved to tease him and tug at it when she was a little girl. Pappa had only ever wanted what was best for her.
Mamma had always wantedthebest for her. Mrs. Thurston Reid embraced her daughter with soft, plump arms that were open and ready for a hug.
Louisa’s parents were warm and affectionate, if a bit busy and loud. They made for great company, though, and she would miss their laughter and easy conversation. Who would tease her, hug her, and love her now?
