Chapter 20
Moving On?
“My Lord.”Victoria rose to greet Gabriel with her hands outstretched. “It is so wonderful to see you looking hale and healthy. I’d begun to wonder if you were ever going to return to England.”
When she offered her cheek, he had no reluctance in placing a kiss upon it, just as he’d done with his sister less than one week ago. “I’d be the world’s greatest fool if I did not. How are you, Miss Shipley? You look even more beautiful than when I left.”
And he was not dissembling. He’d never once found her looks lacking. Her hair was brown, but with shimmering golden highlights, and her chocolate-colored eyes always met him with a welcoming warmth.
He couldn’t allow her time to answer, as he felt her aunt’s disapproving gaze burning a hole into his back. He turned and bowed to the discommodious woman in hopes of sweetening her temperament even the slightest. “Mrs. Beasley, It is a pleasure to see you again as well.”
Which, of course, was an outright lie.
“Harrumph,” she answered in kind. “Your mother informed me that you had returned to London all of a week ago. How good you are, to come rushing immediately to your intended’s side.”
“Aunt Delia.” Victoria shot her aunt a pleading glance. “I’m certain Lord Kingsley had important business to attend to.”
He held onto his cajoling smile even as he recalled all of the important duties he’d allotted for his time. Such as drinking and gambling well into the night at a few of his clubs, working himself to exhaustion at Gentlemen Jackson’s. Writing and then rewriting letters to send to Olivia.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “May I?” He gestured toward the long settee. “I was hoping we could settle on a new wedding date.”
There, he’d said it. He was not on the verge of jilting his fiancée for another woman. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think such thoughts. But he could not bring himself to do the deed as quickly as had been decided a year ago. The Season was already over, really.
And who married in London when no one was in town?
Mrs. Beasley’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Victoria nodded but remained silent. Likely, she’d become so frustrated over the past few attempts that she refused to allow herself to summon much excitement for their nuptials until they were both standing at the altar.
“A summer wedding would be most commodious,” he began while studying a bouquet of flowers on a table near the window. Society weddings required an abundance of flowers and decorations. And there ought to be a wedding breakfast as well. He frowned. “Then again, to schedule the ceremony so precipitously allows only a short amount of time for planning.”
“I’m certain that between your sister, your mother, Miss Shipley, and myself, we can manage the necessary arrangements,” Mrs. Beasley suggested.
But Gabriel was shaking his head. “No, no. I won’t have it.” He nodded toward his fiancée’s relative. “Miss Shipley has waited far too long to marry with anything less than all pomp and circumstances.”
Victoria caught her aunt’s eye.
“Christmas would give us plenty of time to plan adequately.” She suggested so softly that Gabriel had to lean forward in order to hear all of her words. She couldn’t be any more different than Olivia, although both of them were lovely ladies indeed.
Mrs. Beasley’s lips pinched together tightly.
He furrowed his brows.
It had snowed last year at Christmas time. A vicious blizzard, in fact.
Gabriel was shaking his head once again. “If the weather turns, it could make for difficult travel and we’d be left with an empty church. What would you think of the first Sunday in May, my dear? My mother will go into raptures at the promise of atonwedding held at the pinnacle of the Season. What do you say, Miss Shipley? A spring wedding at St. George’s?”
She shrugged and raised her brows. “I don’t know why not. We’ve waited this long…”
Mrs. Beasley wasn’t so accommodating. “Too long, as far as I’m concerned. What does my niece need with a fancy Society wedding anyhow?”
“Nothing but the best for my future countess, and if she’s of mind to have a spring wedding, then a spring wedding she shall have.” And having made such a definitive decision, Gabriel rose once again and placed his hat back atop his head. If only Victoria’s aunt was less of a dragon, the poor girl might smile on occasion.
It occurred to him that he might make more of an attempt. And he would.
Soon.
“I’ll inform my mother and sister before they leave for their afternoon visits. It’s never too soon to begin making plans.”
