“I believe we can enjoy the next few days. It’s just the final touches to those gowns.”
“And Cook is busy preparing for the wedding feast. It’s a celebration of the re-opening of Silverton Hall and the whole village is invited to an outdoor reception. There will be a quiet family dinner in the evening,” explained Mrs. Jennings.
“I’m going to miss you both,” said Olivia. “Marcus and I won’t be returning to England till the late spring. He wants me to get to know the villa and share his life in Italy with me.”
“You’ll only be gone a few months,” said Marianne. “And we all plan to visit.”
The guests would gather over the next few days. There would be a sizeable house party, and for one moment Olivia felt sadness for the family of Sir Jonathan. She’d heard his mother had become a recluse and never left her home. Somewhere less than five miles away she lived with humiliation and grief brought on by the actions of her son.
Sir Jonathan had spent the last few weeks in Bedford Gaol and House of Correction. Olivia had been told that his family had argued that he should be committed to a mental institution and the Duke of Hargrove had shown compassion and supported them in that request.
Jonathan would spend the rest of his days in an asylum at Abbots Langley in Hertfordshire where the patients slept in dormitories, rising early to work every day in the kitchen, laundry, or farm before prayers and a communal meal. The life would be hard, but he had escaped prison or transportation, and his actions proved him a danger to society. Olivia shivered, glad that she would never see him again.
Such sadness and misery and all so unnecessary. Olivia had lived through the tragic loss of family and the pathway to happiness had not been easy. She failed to understand how anyone could actively scheme to cause distress to others.
Lady Cressida had disappeared on the day when Olivia had escaped from captivity. Marcus had set investigators to track her, and they knew that she had escaped toFrance. It was still possible that charges could be brought against her, but she had been careful to cover her tracks, and so far, nothing could be traced back to her. Marcus would never give up searching for proof of her crimes.
If she ever returned to England she would be ostracized from society, enduring the same fate that she had plotted so tirelessly to inflict on Olivia and her family.
Another carriage trundled up the drive and Marianne recognized the crest of the Duke of Hargrove. “It’s the duke and duchess arriving. I believe your uncle is already here, and Marcus and Colin arrive later today. There is just Colin’s mother to join us in a day or two.” She smiled, “Now come, let’s go inside and let Mrs. Jennings show us the new building.”
***
“Are you ready?” asked Marianne.
“Yes,” responded Olivia and Jocelyn, almost in unison.
“You both look beautiful,” said Mrs. Jennings, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Mais non,” came a voice of authority. “Lady Olivia, stand still while I adjust your train. A future duchess always has to have a train flowing behind her. Now, look in the mirror,” commanded Madame Beauchamps.
Olivia gasped audibly. She thought this must be a dream.
“I told you that you looked beautiful,” said her friend, standing next to her.
The dress was a cream, almost yellowy color. The warm tones matched her eyes, which glittered like the citrine necklace and earrings which Marianne had lent to her for her special day.
As she moved her gown glimmered in the sunshine, all the golden threads illuminating, almost creating a haze around her. She loved her dress.
“You can’t cry,” said Madame Beauchamps, “you risk spoiling my work.” The fierce French seamstress gave her a final check,adjusting the strands of pearls and spinets which were strung through her hair and on the veil flowing behind her.
“Maintenant, Lady Jocelyn,” came the voice which no one dared to disobey.
“Josie, I’m going to make you cry, but your father and mother would have been so proud of you today. You look like a princess,” Olivia told her.
As Jocelyn spun around the blue sapphires in her hair sparkled, and her brilliant white gown caught the light. The diaphanous gown floated around her as she swirled.
“I wasn’t sure about a double wedding. I thought you should both have a special day, but today feels right. Your grooms are waiting for you in the chapel. Now let’s go and find your Uncle Harold,” Marianne told them.
The house was almost empty, with all the house staff and guests already waiting in the chapel. As they walked on the path from house to chapel Olivia saw her uncle waiting outside with Viscount Leighton.
“Olivia and Jocelyn. I began to think you might be late on your own wedding day,” their uncle chided, but the look in his eyes was one of pride.
“Well, Uncle, we have saved you some money by marrying on the same day,” laughed Olivia and everyone around her.
Uncle Harold had come a long way in recent months and was not quite as parsimonious as before. He could laugh at himself, and both his niece and great niece were fond of him.
As Olivia walked toward her earl, her heart sang with happiness. Marcus turned to watch her, defying tradition by being determined to catch a glimpse of his bride.
