For with Betsy, Lady Hazelshire always showed a different, kind side. She was loving and caring, supportive and sweet. Always quick with a kiss and a hug. Rowena put it down to the fact that Betsy was an orphan, and that her mother had been Lady Hazelshire’s closest friend. And of course, she did not have to worry about raising Betsy with the same strict rules for she would never be expected to wed a Peer of the Realm nor to join theton. Yet, she had to admit, at times it stung.
“Rowena?” Lady Hazelshire’s shrill voice broke through Rowena’s thoughts and pulled her back into reality.
“Yes, Mama?”
“You still have not answered me. I’ve asked you three times now. Summer or winter? For the wedding? Personally, I think a winter wedding would be utterly charming.”
Rowena inhaled sharply. She still recalled how attached her mother had been to the idea of a summer wedding when she was to wed Lord Mortimer. Her sudden preference for a winter wedding was perhaps in part due to the events involving Mortimer. But in any case, Rowena had yet to meet her future husband thus talk of a wedding appeared premature and she said as much.
“Is it not too early to talk about when to have the wedding? I’ve yet to meet the Duke, after all.”
Despite her own instructions not to, Lady Hazelshire frowned.
“Whatever do you mean? Of course, you have. Last year, at Almack's. You danced with him. Twice. The quadrille and then the cotillion. And I am pleased to report, he was charmed by you. Charmed, I declare. Your Father says the Duke appears besotted with you. Your Papa said the Duke is so keen on the match he could have gotten away with paying a pittance for a dowry,” Lady Hazelshire giggled while Catherine’s eyes grew wide. She crossed the room and began to pick assorted dresses up off the floor, returning them to the armoire.
“Oh, Faith. He didn’t, of course. Your Father is an honorable man.” She set her eyes on Rowena. “It appears you are quite a bit more memorable than the poor Duke. I beg of you Rowena, when you meet him again, do not let him know that you cannot remember him. It would be a disaster.”
“Of course not, Mama.”
Rowena replied and pursed her lips, trying to remember. In her efforts to find Rowena a husband, Lady Hazelshire had taken her to so many balls that it was all a blur to Rowena.
“You would do well to remember, my dear. I am certain the meeting will come up when you see him again, especially since it will be at a ball again.”
Rowena had gotten up and looked out the window. Rain clouds had moved in, obscuring the brightness of the sun. Yet, the change in weather did not appear to have slowed the stream of people making their way to the park.
“A ball? I am to meet him at a ball?”
Lady Hazelshire turned and walked back toward Rowena. She tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind Rowena’s ear. Rowena noticed once more just how much Catherine resembled their mother. They had the same short statue, and their blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes made them appear almost like sisters.
Rowena on the other hand favored her father. She, like her brother Charles, was tall with dark hair and deep, dark eyes. The only physical trait she shared with her mother and Catherine was her pale skin, achieved by largely avoiding the sun and always carrying a parasol, in addition to large amounts of crushed pearl powder.
Now her mother wrapped her hands around Rowena’s wrists. The coldness of her hands on this warm day made Rowena momentarily shiver.
“At your sister’s coming-out ball. The Duke has declared that he cannot wait to see you again.” She tilted her head to one side. “Your Father has not spoken to you?”
Rowena shook her head. “No, I have hardly seen Papa since we arrived. He took off for Shropshire almost immediately.”
Among the family’s considerable land holdings was a large vineyard, purchased last year. Charles was to be in charge of it, but their father had yet to hand him reins. Rowena knew nothing about the running of estates and lands, but this particular property appeared to cause her father much struggle for he was often called away to attend to matters there. In fact, he’d departed, along with her brother, the very evening she and Catherine had arrived in London.
Lady Hazelshire sighed and shook her head, releasing her wrists.
“This vineyard will be the death of him yet. Very well, given that your Father is not here to tell you, I shall. Your Father and Lord Thornmouth determined that your sister’s coming-out ball will be the perfect opportunity to meet again.” She paused and pursed her lips. “It is less than two weeks away. Perhaps between now and then you might recall the first time you met. Now. The wedding?”
Rowena sighed, knowing that her mother would not let the topic go.
“I expect a winter wedding would be nice, you are right. Although having a wedding with the roses in full bloom would also be pretty.”
Lady Hazelshire’s eyes widened. “Roses? Ah, dear child, you are thinking of having the wedding at Farnsworth Manor.” She waved an arm dismissively. “Charming, but I expect the Duke will want to have the wedding at Crawford Castle. It is much more suitable especially if…” she lowered her voice and leaned in closer as if afraid someone might overhear, even though they were the only people in the room, “especially if the Regent will attend.”
“Prinny will come to Rowena’s wedding?” Catherine shrieked, only to clasp her hands in front of her mouth when Lady Hazelshire hushed her. “Prinny? Really?” Catherine said quieter. “And perhaps Princess Charlotte and her new husband, Prince Leopold. Faith, perhaps the Queen as well.”
Lady Hazelshire sat on the edge of the large four-poster bed, stroking the embroidered pillow beside her.
“I should not expect the Queen, given her ill health. But the Regent, perhaps. Yes. I hear Lord Thornmouth is quite well connected at Court, and the Thornmouth Dukes have long been Court favorites. The Regent attended the wedding of the Duke’s cousin so I should expect he will be there.” The smile on Lady Hazelshire’s face was that of a woman who was about to achieve everything she’d ever set out to in life.
“Rowena! You shall have a Royal wedding! Just like Princess Charlotte did.” Catherine had dropped her gown to the floor and clapped her hands together.
Rowena forced a smile while inside her stomach began to turn. Her heart was racing, and she felt a cold sweat run down her spine. Royal wedding. The Regent. It was all too much. She rose, holding on to the window frame.
