The moment they were in their proper places in line and had put on the gloves they had retrieved from their attendants, her father nodded for Peters to shut the front door and then open it anew as if welcoming the world, and that was who seemed to arrive.
Guests poured through the door to be met with as much pomp and fanfare as her father could afford.
Willa knew many of the guests whether she’d talked to them or not. They flattered her and called her “Your Grace.” Women curtseyed, and men bowed... women and men who would have barely given her any consideration only months ago.
Lady Wellington came through the line. “I see you took my advice to heart,” she said to Willa. “Good for you.”
“What advice?” Matt wished to know. He’d been having a few words of quiet conversation with his cousin George Addison, who had been introduced to Willa as a lawyer. She’d heard of him, of course. Her father knew him well.
Instead of answering, Lady Wellington merely smiled, tapping her fan against her cheek, and moved on down the line.
In truth, Willa could not have asked for a more attentive bridegroom than Matt. He was far more outgoing than she. He greeted people easily, presented her to those she did not know, and always included her in any conversations.
By the time her father called an end to the receiving line, Willa was starved. However, the serving was a bit tedious. There were so many people, service didn’t end until almost three. Everyone had been fed but many were now seriously doing damage to the Reverly cellars. Her father was leading the pack. Even the dowager appeared more than a bit tipsy.
Because the celebration was so huge, guests filled several rooms. To her relief, Matt was sober. He circulated through the rooms with Willa in order to spend time with all their guests. She liked being by his side. She felt important.
At one point, Cassandra drew her close to whisper, “Do we still need to have the coach waiting to help you escape to Cornwall?”
Willa glanced over to where Matt was involved in conversation with Soren and another gentleman. Of the group, her husband was easily the most handsome. She linked her arm with Cassandra’s and led her to an alcove. “No,” she answered. “I believe I’m well pleased. However, I must talk to you.”
“What is it?”
There were people all around them and barely a private place to be had, but Willa needed to ask the questions that had been burning in her mind ever since her mother’s conversation that morning. Bringing her lips almost to Cassandra’s ear lest she be overheard, she said, “Mother fears that the marriage bed might be difficult for me.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “What did she say to you? You’ve gone pale.”
“She fears for me because my husband is a big man and I’m so petite.”
Cassandra took her hand. “Willa, it will be fine. Matt is a good man. He won’t hurt you. Don’t worry about it.”
“Was it painful for you?”
“No. And I count the hours in my husband’s arms, in that bed, the best part of the day. Besides, didn’t Lady Bainhurst claim he was the best of lovers? If anyone can reliably rate lovers, it is Letty. That is all the women at the tables can talk about.”
“Atmywedding feast? That is outrageous.”
“Well, not if it is true. Oh, come, Willa, it is not a bad thing to marry a man who knows what he is about. As to the fact that he is tall and you are much smaller, I’ve met other odd couples in height. They never act as if it is a problem.”
Her words relieved Willa. “Thank you.”
Cassandra gave her a hug. “I want you to be happy. You deserve it. We all do. And after I have this baby, you and I will travel to see Leonie. Doesn’t that sound like the best idea?”
“It does. Let’s plan on it.”
A maid approached Willa. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but your mother asks you to join her at her table.”
“Don’t listen to wives’ tales,” Cassandra warned, and Willa nodded before following the maid. She looked to see where her husband was and discovered that he was involved with a group of men. However, from another doorway, her mother was signaling she wished Willa’s presence. Willa soon found herself making small talk to her mother’s card friends.
As soon as she was able, Willa excused herself and went in search of her husband.
The crowd was growing seriously unruly, their tongues loosened by free-flowing spirits. If Willa had been in control of this event, the servants would be gathering glasses by now. However, her father liked this sort of madcap affair.
One man, her father’s age, charged up to her, demanding to kiss the bride. He started to take advantage of Willa’s size by trying to pick her up and give her a sloppy kiss. She was quite adept at dodging such silliness. Spirits made everyone forget themselves and she had no desire to make a scene. She slipped from his arms and moved out into the hall.
The guest shouted for her to come back and the other people in the room shouted for him to sit down, some even pulling him into a chair.
Willa needed air. Or to pull the pins out of her hair.
