“I imagine that you and Elise should?” Gwendolyn hadn’t thought of any of the details yet other than the dress. She was marrying Mr. Steele. What more mattered?
“We’d be delighted,” Elise said.
“I might have to mull over the matter,” Dara replied teasingly.
“Then I shall stand in your place,” Tweedie assured them.
“You will not. It’s mine,” Dara declared. “Speaking of Beckett, why couldn’t he join us this evening?”
“He said he has a surprise he is preparing for me,” Gwendolyn answered.
“Have you discussed where you shall live?” Tweedie wondered.
“They can stay with us,” Dara answered.
“Or us,” Elise chimed in. “Winderton and I barely use a third of the London house.”
“I think living quarters are the surprise he is planning,” Gwendolyn answered.
“And you don’t wish an opinion on such a large decision?” Dara asked.
Gwendolyn smiled. “No. I would happily live in a hovel with him.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to do that,” Elise said, making a face. “I mean, he can afford a wife, can’t he?” She looked around the table for confirmation.
“As a matter of fact,” Michael said, “I asked him that same question today.”
“And what did he say?” Winderton asked.
“You will all be happy to know Gwendolyn will not be living on love alone. Beckett Steele is a wealthy man.”
This was news to Gwendolyn. “How?” she asked.
Dara made a frustrated sound. “I’m glad you have family to look after you or youwouldbe living in a hovel.”
Gwendolyn gave her a laughing shush. “Didyouquestion Michael’s circumstances?”
Her sister’s expression softened as she looked at her husband. “Oh, no, he was my one and only.”
“As you are mine,” Elise said, reaching for her duke’s hand.
“I knew that,” he answered her. “I couldn’t have looked more poor than when we met.”
“And yet here we are now,” Elise whispered happily.
There was a moment where everyone seemed lost in their happiness until Tweedie piped up. “Yes, yes, this is all well and good. You girls are in love. However, I want to know how Beckett built a fortune. He was in the military, but does one grow rich there?”
“He said he didn’t spend money,” Michael answered. “He was an officer, he was frugal, and he made investments. He gave me the name of his banker. Fielding is well-known and highly reputable. You shall have a nice life, Gwennie,” he finished, using a pet name her sisters used on occasion. Gwendolyn liked to hear him say it.She had much love for both of her brothers-in-marriage.
So it was that on the twenty-third day of September 1817, Gwendolyn married the only man she could ever love.
Beckett arrived at the church in an elegantly cut black double-breasted tailcoat over a white brocade vest and cashmere pantaloons. He appeared every inch a marquess, even if he didn’t wish to be.
The ceremony was simple, the vows heartfelt.
Afterward, they enjoyed a wedding breakfast at the Duke of Winderton’s London home. The event was prestigious enough that a small crowd had gathered outside to admire the guests and would certainly show up as a morsel of gossip beyond the announcement in the papers. That should lay to rest any nonsense about an elopement.
When the breakfast was finished, Beckett informed Gwendolyn he had a surprise. She knew something was up. He had been evasive when she’d asked about where they would spend their wedding night. She also sensed that her sisters were a party to his secrets. She’d caught some whisperings...
