When Ellen was younger,she'd believed in true love. She'd been a hopeless romantic who believed she'd marry her knight in shining armour, who she'd love with all her heart and who'd love her in return. She'd dreamed of getting married in St Paul's, which would be bursting with people who'd share her happiness. And they would ride off into the sunset in an open carriage to live happily ever after.
What had come of that was a broken heart and shards of disillusion. The dewy-eyed Ellen who'd dared to dream those dreams was long gone, replaced by a practical young woman who'd proved to herself that she could very well make her way in this world alone. Without a man, without marriage, and without love.
Now, through the odd twists and turns of fate, she found herself standing at the altar of St George's marrying a man she'd never in her wildest dreams thought she'd ever wed, a most unsuitable man; a complete stranger she'd known for less than twenty-four hours.
The whole ceremony passed like a dream. She kept telling herself it was all a sham, none of it real. She half expected a bolt of lightning to strike them down as they said their vows. Vows they did not mean.
Vows that were lies.
With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow ...
They were such beautiful words.
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and perhaps that had been a mistake, for there was a peculiar intensity in his as he took her hand and gently slipped a gold band on her finger.
She looked down at their clasped hands, something catching in her throat.
When she looked up and saw the doddering old man of a priest beaming at them, she knew the deed was done.
She was married.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was done.
He was married.
Completely out of his depth, Edmund did what he thought was the only natural thing for a newlywed husband to do: he fled.
He spent an hour or two in his laboratory mixing perfumes, but he could not find the scent which hung around her. His wife, that is. Must get used to thinking of her as such.
Thoroughly annoyed, he went to his fencing club. An hour of fencing was the thing to do, of course. But that had not been satisfying, either, since everyone kept insisting on congratulating him again, which only hammered the notion home that he was indeed firmly clapped in parson's mousetrap and there was no escape, at least for the time being.
On his way to his club, he decided, with Dobberham in tow, to get roaring drunk.
Edmund got out of the coach and, looking up the road, saw someone familiar.
A curvaceous female in a horrible mustard-yellow spencer, wearing a tattered bonnet, was about to enter a dressmaker's shop across the road.
"There she is."
"Who?" Dobberham squinted.
"My wife." Edmund went after her, not noticing that Dobberham was following him.
Ellen had been relievedwhen the baron, that is, her husband—for she ought to start thinking of him in that manner—had left right after the wedding.
There had been a tiny twinge of disappointment deep down, but she'd crushed it like an irritating bug under her heel. There was much to do, much to prepare, much to organise. It was to be a busy afternoon, as she had shopping to do for Noni and herself.
She needed clothes.
So the first thing Ellen did as the new Lady Tewkbury was to go shopping.
She set off with a maid. She needed strong, practical clothes and sturdy shoes. Before going to Bath, Ellen used to go shopping with Jenny in the linen drapers of Cheapside and Covent Garden. Jenny was good at finding a bargain. So it seemed natural for Ellen to go there and buy some sturdy dove-grey cotton, one plain and one twilled, and a few lengths of brown tweed for a warmer dress. That would do. Next she visited a boot and shoe warehouse where she bought two pairs of leather walking boots and a finer pair of slippers for more formal occasions, and for suppers in the intimidating dining room. She pulled on one pair of boots and immediately disposed of her old, worn-out pair.
Then it was on to that Mme Minion's to have her dresses made.
Mme Minion's shop was extravagant and displayed not only the latest fashions in the finest silk, satin and poplin, but also hats and gloves.
