Laura giggled. “Certainly not, for she told me, while you talked to Lord Pembury, that I should snap you up.”
Brendan chuckled. “And that’s just what I intend to do, Miss Peyton. Snap you up!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Three weeks passedbefore the wedding day. They wished to wait for Robert and Aurelia’s return from Paris. She knew her brother would appreciate her seeking his permission, although it was hardly necessary since she’d turned twenty-one so long ago. He would want to give her away. It had also given her time to consult with Brendan’s secretary about the invitations and arrange the wedding breakfast at his home in Mayfair.
When the newlyweds had returned and come to see Laura and Aunt Gertrude, Robert had looked at peace with the world. Aurelia had danced in, gushing about Paris. “You should visit, Miss Peyton, Laura. The shops. The elegant people and the fashions. It’s a wonderful city.”
“I have been to Paris.” Aunt Gertrude patted the sofa beside her. “But I would like to hear more about it, Aurelia.”
Grateful for her aunt’s thoughtfulness, Laura had joined Robert in the morning room, where she’d explained what had occurred in his absence.
He’d shown considerable surprise but offered no objection to the marriage, reminding her it had been his fervent hope the earl would marry her when he’d first sent her to Beechley Park. “It was obvious early on that the earl was in love with you. I’m glad there was no truth to Lord Gaylord’s extraordinary claims, although it alarmed me greatly at the time.” He’d shrugged. “But all’s well that ends well, as the saying goes.”
Laura had refused to debate the matter with him. She’d been too happy. And, as Robert had indeed expressed the opinion, more out of hope than any firm conviction, that Brendan would marry her, she couldn’t see the point of pursuing it.
Weeks of incessant rain finally eased on the day of the wedding, and a watery sun broke through the clouds. Laura wore a white gown trimmed with lace and net at the hem and sleeves and decorated with small bows of pink satin, her bonnet trimmed with pink ribbons and rosebuds.
When she and Robert arrived in the carriage at St. James’s Church in Piccadilly, quite a crowd gathered on the pavement outside the small church. The wedding of an earl to a former baron’s daughter, as well as the impressive guest list, had become known and drawn journalists fromThe Times,The Morning Chronicle,Morning Post, andThe Star, and one or two ladies, Laura suspected, who penned the gossip sheets. She didn’t fool herself that they were there merely for the bride. Not when they might glimpse the Earl of Debnam, the Duke and Duchess of Lindsey, the Marquess and Marchioness of Pembury, Baron and Baroness Netterfield, and garner interesting information from their servants.
When the organ music struck up, Laura entered on Robert’s arm. She smiled at Wagstaff, Mrs. Amery, and Penny seated at the back of the church. As they progressed slowly down the aisle, Laura’s bridesmaid, Emma Burton, wearing pale lemon, followed behind.
Before the altar, Brendan, handsome in a tailcoat of dark blue, waited beside his two groomsmen, the duke and the marquess. Their elegant wives sat in the front pews alongside Aunt Gertrude, Aurelia, and her parents.
The rest of the ceremony passed like a wonderful dream, until Laura signed the book with her new name, then, with the realization that she was now the Countess of Debnam, took her husband’s arm to walk back down the aisle to the waiting crowd outside. After saying their goodbyes, she and Brendan climbed into the carriage to travel to Brendan’s Mayfair mansion and their wedding breakfast.
Laura danced a heavenly waltz with Brendan. As he skillfully guided her over the floor, what he murmured in her ear made her giggle and try not to blush.
When she could spare a moment from her guests, Laura sat with Aunt Gertrude while she ate a piece of wedding cake.
“I never expected you to marry a handsome rake, Laura,” her aunt said, fork in hand. “But you’re a sensible girl. You’ll tame him.”
Laura laughed. “Brendan doesn’t need to be tamed, Aunt.”
“They all need a little nudge in the right direction, niece.” Her eyes softened. “I am pleased to see both you and Robert settled at last. And I wish you both happy.”
Laura leaned forward and kissed her aunt’s cheek, breathing in the scent of powder. “You will come often to see us, won’t you?”
“I’ll come, but not too often.” Her aunt dug her fork into the cake. “My life is busy, you understand?” She swallowed the piece of cake. “Regrettably, Beauwillmiss Tibby.”
“You must bring Beau when you do find time to come to visit.” Laura understood. Her aunt knew she and Brendan needed to be alone for a while.
Several hours later, after the last of the guests had departed, Laura went up to her bedchamber to change. The countess’s suite was as elegant as the bedchambers at Beechley Park, with every comfort. She washed her face and hands at the washstand and sat before the mirror, removing the pins from her hair, as Penny came in.
“It was such a lovely wedding, milady. What shall you wear to dinner?”
“Take out the sea-green silk, please, Penny,” she said, amused by her maid’s enthusiasm.
Penny could not contain her composure for long. As she moved about the room, turning down the bedcover and fluffing the pillows, she talked about the wedding. “And the guests, milady!” Her head appeared from around the dressing room door, Laura’s hat in her hands. “It must be the society wedding of the year!”
Laura laughed. “It was hardly that, Penny.” She turned back to the mirror and picked up the brush. “But it was the most special.”
“We toasted you and his lordship with champagne in the servants’ hall,” Penny said, reemerging. She put a hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing. “The bubbles tickled. I have never tasted the like.”
“I’m glad you all enjoyed yourselves. It was his lordship’s wish that the servants hold their own celebration below stairs.”
“We did, milady. After the wine, Mr. Swan, his lordship’s valet, burst into song. He has a fine baritone, and we all joined in to sing ‘Greensleeves,’” she said as she rushed to answer a knock on the door.
