October1885
The Wedding of theCentury!
Justin stared at the blaring headline in one of the newspapers that had just been delivered to his hotel room. It was a rude shock for a man who had disembarked in New York City only two hoursearlier.
Below the headline were drawings of Sunny and himself. The likeness of him was not flattering. Were his brows really so heavy and threatening?Perhaps.
He smiled wryly as he skimmed the story, which was every bit as bad as Sunny had predicted. Apparently Americans had a maniacal interest in other people’s private business. There was even a breathless description of the bride’s garters, which were allegedly of gold lace with diamond-studded clasps. The item must have been invented, since he could not imagine Sunny discussing her gaiters with areporter.
The thought of Sunny in her garters was so distracting that he swiftly flipped to the next newspaper. This one featured a cartoon of a couple getting married by a blindfolded minister. The tall, slim bride wore a martyred expression as she knelt beside a dissolute-looking groom who was half a headshorter.
The accompanying story implied rather strongly that the Duke of Thornborough was a corrupt specimen of European cad-hood who had come to the New World to coldly steal away the finest, freshest flower of American femininity. At the same time, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of pride that one of New York’s own was to become a duchess. Apparently the natives couldn’t decide whether they loathed or loved the trappings of the decadent OldWorld.
Disgusted, he tossed the papers aside and finished dressing for the dinner that Augusta Vangelder was giving in his honor. Afterward, the marriage settlements would be signed. Yet though that would make him a far wealthier man, what made his heart quicken was the fact that after three long months, he would see Sunny again. And not only see, buttouch...
After his Newport visit they had written each other regularly, and he had enjoyed her whimsical anecdotes about the rigors of preparing for a wedding. If she had ever expressed any affection for him, he might have had the courage to tell her his own feelings, for it would be easier to write about love than to say the wordsoutloud.
But her letters had been so impersonal that anyone could have read them. He had replied with equal detachment, writing about Swindon and acquainting her with what she would find there. He had debated telling her about some of the improvements he had ordered, but decided to keep them as asurprise.
He checked his watch and saw that the carriage the Vangelders were sending should be waiting outside the hotel. Brimming with suppressed excitement, he wentdownstairs.
As he crossed the lobby, a voice barked, “Thereheis!”
Half a dozen slovenly persons, obviously reporters, bolted across the marble floor and surrounded him. Refusing to be deterred, he kept walking through the babble of questions that came from allsides.
The loudest speaker, a fellow with a red checked vest, yelled, “What do you think of NewYork,Duke?”
Deciding it was better to say something innocuous rather than to ignore them entirely, Justin said, “Asplendidcity.”
Another reporter asked, “Any of your family coming to thewedding,Duke?”
“Unfortunately that isn’tpossible.”
“Is it true that Sunny has the largest dowry of any American girl to marry aBritishlord?”
The sound of her name on the man’s lips made Justin glad that he wasn’t carrying a cane, for he might have broken it across the oafs head. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he said, tight-lipped, “for I have anengagement.”
“Are you going to visit Sunny now?” severalchorused.
When Justin didn’t answer, one of the men grabbed his arm. Clamping onto his temper, Justin looked the reporter in the eye and said in the freezing accents honed by ten generations of nobility, “Ibegyourpardon?”
The man hastily stepped back. “Sorry, sir! Duke. No offensemeant.”
Justin had almost reached the door when a skinny fellow jumped in front of him. “Are you in love with our Sunny, your dukeship, or are you only marrying her for themoney?”
It had been a mistake to answer any questions at all, Justin realized; it only encouraged the creatures. “I realize that none of you are qualified to understand gentlemanly behavior,” he said icily, “so you will have to take my word for it that a gentleman never discusses a lady, and particularly not in the public press. Kindly get out ofmyway.”
The man said with a leer, “Just asking what the American public wants to know,Thorny.”
“The American public can go hang,” Justinsnapped.
Before the reporters could commit any further impertinence, several members of the hotel staff belatedly came to Justin’s rescue. They swept the journalists aside and escorted him outside with profuse apologies and promises that such persons would never be allowed in the hotelagain.
In a voice clipped by fury, Justin told the manager, “I hope that is true, because if there is another episode like this I shall move to quieterquarters.”
Temper simmering, he settled into the luxurious Vangelder carriage. The sooner this damned wedding was over and he could take his wife home, thebetter.
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