“I’m looking forward to meeting him or her.” Julian laughed softly and shook his head. “This past while has been an endless calendar of events. Your marriage to Maxwell. The miraculous return of our long-lost uncle. My soon-to-be-marriage to Annie. A first grandchild on the way for Papa and Mama. What’s next, I wonder?”
“The twins’ debut,” Louisa replied, without hesitation.
“Ah, yes.” Julian frowned and cleared his throat, which had gone dry at the thought of those two imps released upon an unsuspecting Society. “I can hardly wait.”
“And, perhaps later that year, a child of your own,” Louisa added, touching his arm. “You’ll make a wonderful father, Julian.”
Julian allowed himself to visit the real possibility of fatherhood. He’d considered it, of course. He wanted an heir. He wanted a family.
The deep love he shared with Annie had yet to evolve. She had no idea how easily she aroused him. At times, it took nothing more than an adoring glance, or the touch of her hand, or the way she bit her lip. Kissing her was both pleasurable and torturous. He longed to show her the intimate side of love, to take their relationship to a higher level. He smiled to himself as he thought about the honeymoon. Specifically, the location, which he had not yet revealed. And so far, Annie had yet to ask about it.
It had been an early wedding gift. A surprise from an unlikely source. Or perhaps, in hindsight, not so unlikely. In any case, Julian had resolved to keep it a secret until after the wedding.
“What are you smiling about?” Louisa asked.
“Oh, nothing.” He tugged gently on one of her ringlets. “At least, nothing I can tell you about.”
Louisa cocked her head. “It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Being in love.”
“Yes,” he replied, “it is.”
Chapter Thirty-One
For the secondtime that year, Annie turned to a mirror and regarded her reflection as a bride-to-be. The face was the same, but the person it belonged to had changed. No longer an uninformed, somewhat naïve girl, but a young woman richer in the knowledge of love and trust, less likely to judge carelessly, and blessed with the protection and devotion of family. Her wedding gown, with its skirts of cream silk and embellishments of cream lace, was an exquisite accessory to the fairytale. She also quietly acknowledged the relief of being allowed to discard her mourning clothes.
Almost four weeks had passed since she’d first laid eyes on Highfield Hall. On this bright summer morning, she would officially become part of the family that lived here. The Northcotts. A family who shared a closeness unlike anything Annie had ever known. Not that they didn’t argue, but she had yet to witness anything that resembled a genuine disagreement. That is, unless Captain Northcott, heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes as he snapped open his newspaper, might be classed as a genuine disagreement.
As for ghosts, there’d been neither sight nor sound of one, leaving her equally relieved and disappointed. She slept undisturbed and awoke each morning with a sense of joy. If anything was lacking, it was Lancelot’s unique fanfare.
“You look beautiful, my darling.” Janet’s voice, quivering slightly, meandered into Annie’s deliberations. “I have to say, being with youon your wedding day, seeing you like this, is a dream come true.”
Annie smiled at her through the mirror. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mama. You look beautiful as well. That gown is very becoming. You too, Hattie. You look splendid.”
“Splendid, eh?” Hattie leaned in to fiddle with the garland of flowers on Annie’s head. “A suitable epithet for a ship, perhaps.”
Annie laughed. “Elegant, then.”
“Better.” Frowning, the woman stepped back, her gaze critical. “I must admit, the modiste has done a remarkable job on your gown, pet. It’s exquisite.”
“Francesca Corvinelli is her name,” Annie replied. “She’s making several more outfits for me. Julian and I spent the better part of an afternoon in her shop.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Hattie leaned in to fiddle with the garland once more. “I’m sure it must be difficult being treated like a princess.”
Annie chuckled. “Yes, it was rather trying.”
Once again, Hattie stepped back. “There,” she said, her tone indicative of satisfaction. “Perfect.”
A knock came to the door and a maid peeked in. “They’re ready for you, Miss Fairfax.”
Annie nodded a response and suppressed a shiver of excitement. “Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.”
*
A hush fellover the chapel indicating the bride’s arrival. Julian straightened a little and turned to face the door. As tradition demanded, he had not seen Annie that day. Now he saw nothing but her. The vision she presented, the sensual mystery of her veiled face and the graceful, unfaltering step as she approached, stole his breath. She was the epitome of innocence, yet at once incredibly alluring. Julian swallowed over the knot in his throat and blinked away the telltaleburn in his eyes.
