Zipporah raised a brow. “Do tell!”
“Well, to begin, I shall wear my lilac silk taffeta, and my bouquet will be lily of the valley from the orangery at Lamb Hill.” Loveday took a sip from her own cup. “Our wedding cake shall be decorated with royal icing and candied violets, though I suppose Aunt wouldn’t care for our use of sugar.”
“Well, perhaps one might make an allowance for so special an occasion,” Zipporah said. “I’m very happy to have all the tea we want at our disposal on this side of the Atlantic too.”
In the next room the men’s voices seemed to rumble. Tobacco smoke snuck beneath the door. Fragrant Tidewater tobacco. Yet this room was a far cry from Royal Vale’s parlor. Would she ever be at home here? She didn’t miss the steady hum of the city, but at least there she could be alert to the needs about her and do good. Here she felt like a plant in the orangery, all foliage and little fruit.
After a game of whist, the women sought the staircase amid yawns and murmuring about plans for the morrow while the men talked on in the dining room till well after midnight.
55
For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.
Christina Rossetti
“There’s never been a more beautiful bride,” Juliet said, passing Loveday her bouquet once Minette finished her coiffure. “Your groom has sent word all is ready at Lamb Hill for your arrival.”
Loveday took a last look at her reflection. “Do you regret having so hasty a shipboard wedding?”
“Not a bit,” Juliet said with a smile. “Yours is all the fuss and bother I need.”
Their easy, mingled laughter was something Juliet would miss. But no melancholy thoughts should mar this memorable day. Even the weather was glorious.
Nurse appeared at the door, ushering in the twins wearing frocks and new shoes, their hair shining with a just-washed luster.
“Mam!” they chorused, running to her and hanging on herpetticoats. They regarded Loveday with admiring eyes but seemed to know better than to ruffle her wedding finery. She gathered them close despite it, even taking two blossoms from her bouquet to give them. They took them proudly, and then Cole uttered the one word that sent Juliet’s heart reeling again.
“Da?” He looked about as if expecting Leith to be hiding in a corner.
“Da is on his way.” Juliet went to a window that overlooked the long drive and, seeing no one, turned away.
“D’you have a biscuit?” Bella asked coyly, examining Loveday’s bouquet.
“Nary a biscuit, but we shall soon have wedding cake.”
“Come along.” Juliet ushered them out of the room and downstairs to the waiting coach. “Time to go see the lambs at Uncle Niall’s.”
The few miles to Lamb Hill was awash with bluebells. Loveday sang a song with the twins while Juliet pondered all that had come to pass. Though she had no remorse about her own hasty nuptials, she did sometimes wish for a more romantic beginning. But what did it matter if there was to be a romantic end?
“Wee lambie, lambie, lambie,” Bella sang.
Lambing season was in evidence on both sides of the coach as shepherds and sheep roamed beyond the borders of Lamb Hill. The newer mansion seemed miniature compared to Ardraigh Hall, more a fairy-tale castle with its turrets and dry moat filled with wildflowers. Both children were bouncing excitedly on the primrose silk seats since Uncle Niall was a favorite. The Paisley coach had already arrived, but Lyrica and Euan seemed to have gone inside.
Niall was waiting on the steps, having dispensed with the usual footman. “What? You didn’t ride your ponies. Flora and Charlie, is it?”
“Aye,” Cole replied with the gravity of a three-year-old. “They’re napping.”
“Nae, they’re eating oats!” Bella said, running up the steps past him.
