Who might have imagined that the betrayed maiden would find a worthy man so soon? Not Mrs. D., but then love was a mystery, appearing unannounced and making sudden conquest of the hearts of those unprepared for such sudden good fortune. She knew it had claimed these two hearts, and brought this couple together forever.
As a result, Mrs. D. found herself not just satisfied but very happy indeed.
Fairfax was determinedthat all should be prepared. He wanted nothing less than perfection for this day’s event. Mrs. Baird had been baking with a vengeance. They had taken on half a dozen new servants in the house and that many more simply for theday. It was more than the event of the viscount finally taking a bride—Fairfax wanted all to be precisely as the new viscountess desired. He wanted her first event at Addersley House to be a complete triumph.
He liked the lady very much, though he would have done his best even if he hadn’t liked her. But she was lively and cheerful, reminding him of the old viscountess in a satisfying way. He sensed that she would be good both for Addersley and for the viscount himself, and Mrs. Baird was already anticipating that the nursery would be needed within the year.
Best of all, the new viscountess had ideas. This day was a perfect example. Why not combine the strawberry social once held annually with the wedding breakfast? Why not invite everyone to celebrate the joy of the day together? That it had never been done did not mean it could not be done, and in fact, once the idea was expressed, Fairfax would have moved heaven and earth to make it happen.
Even the weather was perfect for the day. It was sunny, the skies clear, yet there was a light breeze. Awnings had been set up across the lawn, and there were clusters of chairs and tables, in either sun or shade. There were more chairs upon the terrace, by the viscountess’ own artful arrangement. Fairfax admired how the casual dispersion of the chairs contrasted with the formality of the garden itself.
When Lady Haynesdale had buckets of cut roses delivered that morning, Fairfax had taken the liberty of ordering flower arrangements to be added to the tables. The blooms were all shades of pink and white, spilling from their vases with abundance.
In addition to the roses, he could smell strawberries, plucked from Addersley’s own field. They had been prepared in dozens of ways, as tarts and sliced fruit, in fools and crumbles and atop cakes. There was strawberry jam or preserves, thick cream,scones and crumpets. There was tea and there was wine, as well as a veritable army of servants to pour and deliver such refreshments. He heard the carriages arriving from the church in the village and surveyed it all one last time, pronouncing himself content with arrangements.
His lord and lady were first to step onto the terrace, the eyes of the new viscountess lighting with pleasure. His lordship’s ring was upon her finger and that man’s contentment was clear. Fairfax bit back a smile himself.
“Fairfax!” the lady declared. “It is perfect. It is beautiful!” She took his hand and smiled up at him, her expression such that he thought she might grant him a kiss, of all things. “Thank you ever so much. Everyone will remember this day forever.”
He rather wagered they would. “The planning was yours, my lady.”
“But the details, Fairfax, are all yours. I never thought of the roses, but they are the perfect touch. Thank you.”
“You might thank Lady Haynesdale. She had them cut and delivered from her own gardens this morning.”
“How very thoughtful.” The bride smiled with genuine pleasure. “I will thank her, as well.”
The first of the guests arrived, their expressions a mix of awe and delight as they looked upon the preparations. The viscount offered his arm to his bride, sparing an intent glance for his butler. “I thank you, Fairfax, for ensuring all was prepared so well.”
Fairfax gave a little bow. “I had to do all within my powers to ensure my lady’s success,” he said, watching the viscount smile. “May I offer my congratulations, sir?”
“Thank you, Fairfax. I trust you have arranged for punch in the hall tonight, as well as a fine supper.”
“Of course, sir. We are all pleased to celebrate your nuptials.”
“Mrs. D. came,” the bride said to her husband. “I must welcome her.” As the viscountess crossed the terrace, it seemed to Fairfax that joy emanated from her, infecting everyone she encountered. She laughed and embraced the lady in question, prompting both butler and viscount to smile.
“Your lady is a veritable breath of fresh air, my lord,” Fairfax dared to say.
That man smiled as seldom he had in recent years. “She is, Fairfax. She is, indeed, and I knew the first moment I saw her.”
Fairfax bowed as the viscount strode toward his lady wife. He had great anticipation for the future of Addersley and might have savored the sight of the new couple together in other circumstance. As it was, Lady Dalhousie was without a cup of tea and such a situation had to be addressed with haste.
Could she be any happier?Helena was quite certain it was not possible. The past fortnight had been a whirlwind of arrangements, each day ending with a long slow kiss from Joshua that left her simmering all night long. She had wished more than once that Eliza might yet have some of that book by Mrs. Oliver, but could not find a single page of it at Southpoint.
She had looked, repeatedly.
Although Helena had little doubt that Joshua would make their wedding night memorable. She spoke to their guests, sometimes by his side and sometimes on her own, moving across the lawn and terrace as if she had been hostess of such functions a hundred times before. It was quite satisfying to organize matters, and the servants at Addersley Manor had been both helpful and welcoming.
How could she have imagined a liaison with the duke? She looked at him, certain he was of an age and infirmity to be her grandfather. Then she looked at Joshua and her heart skipped with joy. There could be no comparison between them.
There was an older woman alone on the terrace, one who might have been the duke’s grandmother. She leaned on her cane, a plethora of veils draped around her crooked figure, and Helena thought she had never seen such an unfortunate collection of fabrics and colors on one person at one time. Her voice carried over the company, rising and falling as she complained about the sunlight. Other guests moved away from her, which only encouraged her to increase her volume.
Who was she?
A footman brought a chair for the lady and placed as she instructed, then she fell into it like a sack of potatoes. Helena was both appalled and fascinated when the woman pointed at her, then beckoned. “You,” she said in her hoarse voice. “You, girl. Come here.”
Helena exchanged a glance with Joshua, then followed the older woman’s bidding. She was looked up and down, then the woman harrumphed and thumped her cane on the terrace. It was difficult to discern her features through the layers of veils, but what Helena could see confirmed her sense that she spoke to an ancient crone.
