Chapter Twenty-eight
St. Georges was the most proper and most in-demand place to have a wedding amongst the ton.
St. Georges wasnotwhere Grace wanted her wedding.
No.
When she had dreamed of her wedding as a young girl, she dreamed of the outdoor weddings in India, the breeze blowing the canopy across the azure sky, and the colors, oh the beautiful colors.
And everything in London was in shades of pastel and gray.
It was her wedding, and she was going to have color, drat it all!
“Grace, dear, what do you think?” Samantha asked, pulling Grace’s thoughts back to the present.
“About?” Grace asked, not caring that she was confirming that she wasn’t paying proper attention. After all, she was quite deliriously happy, and as such, she found that she couldn’t find the will to be sorry about anything. She was simply far too happy to feel anything but joy.
“We were asking about flowers,” Samantha said, presumably again.
Grace twisted her lips, thinking. “I love flowers. Which are in season?”
Samantha glanced upward in thought. “It’s too late for tulips, but I’m sure we could find roses, and maybe some other bulbs.”
“Irises.” She spoke the word before she could stop it, not that she would have, but regardless, her mind ran away with her mouth and as soon as the word left her lips, she knew it was the perfect idea.
And, judging by the smile spreading across Samantha’s face, she agreed entirely. “I don’t think we can do anything but irises, now that you mention it.”
“And they should be in season.”
“Indeed.”
“And they come in a wide array of colors—”
“Which colors do you fancy most?” Samantha asked, leaning forward, clearly pleased to have some interest from the bride.
Grace considered the question, her thoughts parading a kaleidoscope of color through her mind’s eye. “Must I choose one?”
At this Samantha paused, then tipped her head. “You know, it’s normal to pick one or two, but I don’t know why we must stick to convention in this area.”
“I want as many colors as we can find. A medley, a rainbow of color.” She smiled as she thought of it.
“Have you spoken regarding a date?” Samantha asked, making notes on her sheet of paper as she spoke.
Grace shook her head. It had happened quite fast after they’d left the parlor last night to share the news.
The viscount and Samantha had been waiting for them in the study, and upon Ramsey’s arrival in the room, knowing grins spread across both people’s faces.
“I was giving you thirty more seconds before I came to check on you. Propriety and all.” The viscount grinned widely, standing to offer his friend a solid handshake.
“I take it she accepted you?” Samantha asked Ramsey, even as Grace gave her a hug.
“I used all my powers of persuasion,” Ramsey remarked, turning to wink at Grace.
The viscount cleared his throat.
Ramsey sobered and Grace stifled a laugh.
They had accepted the congratulations and then, with a promise to return in the morning, Ramsey had kissed her hand and departed, his lingering gaze a memory that still made her skin erupt in gooseflesh.
