“So am I, my dear. So am I.” They embraced in the carriage and Eliza watched her mother wipe away a joyous tear. “To have you so happily wed and so close, as well.” She pressed Eliza’s hand. “It is a gift beyond expectation.” Then she smiled impishly. “Though there could be one more to make matters complete.”
Eliza had to tease her. “Indeed? You were the one to tell me that children were not required for happiness.”
Her mother laughed. “I said nothing of grandchildren, Eliza.”
They laughed together, then Eliza was startled to realize they had arrived.
The church interior seemed dark after the sunlight and there were only a few good friends and relations gathered to witness the ceremony. Eliza recognized Lady Dalhousie, Helena smiling beside her, then her heart leapt with familiar vigor when she saw Nicholas waiting for her at the altar. He smiled, his eyes fairly glowing with satisfaction.
He had abandoned his regimentals in recent weeks, insisting that he enter private life again with the move to Southpoint. To the satisfaction of Jenkins, his valet, he had visited Damien’s excellent tailor. His navy jacket was crisply tailored and his silk vest of gold with threads of blue matched her own dress. Her heart fluttered, as she knew it always would in his presence, when she halted beside him to make her vows.
“Last chance to escape me,” he murmured, a merry twinkle lighting his eyes.
“Never,” she said, vehement even in an undertone and was gratified by his smile. Then the service began and she listened solemnly, repeating her vows and savoring the conviction in Nicholas’ tone when he swore his own.
Then his ring was on her finger, her hand captured fast within his own, and they were leaving the church to the merry pealing of bells and the congratulations of all around them. To Eliza’s astonishment, there was an unexpected figure on the steps of the chapel. The old woman wore shawls and cloaks aplenty, and truly was so draped in fabric that she could barely be discerned beneath her hat.
She offered a flower to Eliza. “A posy for the bride,” she crowed and Eliza halted to speak to the crooked older woman.
“I thank you for this kindness, my lady.”
“It is a conviction of mine that a new bride should be wished well by all of her acquaintances,” the woman said. Eliza could discern the gleam of her eyes behind the veils but could not see her clearly.
“Are we acquainted, madame?”
The woman cackled. “I am known as Mrs. Oliver,” she confessed and Eliza was startled.
This woman was the one granting her such intimate advice? She was astounded.
“Cannot believe as much, can you, my lady?” Mrs. Oliver continued, clearly deriving great satisfaction from the surprise she had given. She smacked her lips audibly. “Three husbands I have buried and I have savored each and every one of them, as I believe you may know.”
“My lady?” Nicholas asked from beside Eliza, clearly puzzled.
She introduced him quickly to her newfound companion then smiled. “Though we have not wed previously, I have relied upon the advice of Mrs. Oliver these past weeks,” she informed him. “In matters unknown to me without her counsel.”
His eyes widened in surprise as he clearly understood her meaning. “So, that was how you knew,” he said beneath his breath. He bowed before the older lady. “And do I owe you a debt, Mrs. Oliver, for ensuring my bride and I have been so happily joined?”
“You will owe me one for ensuring that you remain happily wed, to be sure.”
Eliza almost laughed at Nicholas’ surprise.
Mrs. Oliver meanwhile rummaged beneath her copious cloak and produced a leather satchel that had become most familiar.
“Dare I hope there is more of your book to be reviewed?” Eliza asked.
“I found your comments most illuminating on earlier passages, Mrs. Emerson, and should be delighted if you had the opportunity to review these additions.” She leaned closer to whisper. “You might indulge in a look before night falls, if you mark my meaning.”
Eliza smiled. “I am honored by your trust, Mrs. Oliver. I will see them returned to you before we depart for Haynesdale this coming week.”
“Haynesdale, is it then? I should be obliged if you might leave your address for me.”
“At Carruthers & Carruthers,” Eliza agreed with a nod. “I will indeed.”
The older lady then swept a curtsey of remarkable depth and wished them well. Eliza was smiling as they continued to the carriage.
“You look most mysterious, my Eliza,” Nicholas murmured. “What is in that satchel?”
“I will show you, tonight,” she promised and he kissed her hand, vowing to hold her to that.
