“I hope you do not mind, Christopher, but Lady Venetia, my aunt, would like to see our marriage,” Sarah said in her beautifully cultivated voice as she turned her body to look directly at Christopher. The sensation of lightheadedness returned. “She is going to follow in a carriage behind us with my cousin, Mr. Randolph. If agreeable to yourself, he will serve as one of the witnesses.”
Christopher flexed his arm muscles when she mentioned her cousin. It put a damper on his attraction to her. The Honorable Ralph Randolph was the last person on earth he would want at his wedding, much less witnessing it, but he dared not say or do anything that might cause her to change her mind. “Whatever you wish.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sarah said and pointed out her window. “Margaret, if you look just there, you will see the most impressive ruins of a castle.”
His sister leaned toward Sarah and gazed raptly at what she pointed at. Christopher also looked out the window. A historic-looking building with several stone archways but no roof was situated near a forested area, and he had not noticed it during his last trip to the Westbrook estate. Although, that day he had been weighed down with a great deal on his mind.
Margaret’s eyes widened, and she smiled becomingly. “How very beautiful! It must be a very old castle.”
Sarah laughed; it sounded like the tinkling of a bell. “I am afraid it is not. My uncle Oscar just recently completed overseeing its construction.”
“He built a ruin?” Christopher asked in surprise before he could stop himself.
“Yes,” Sarah said with another tinkling laugh. “He needed ruins to add some picturesque antiquity to the grounds, and now he wishes to create an artificial lake. I thought I should tell you, Christopher, that he means to ask for your advice in diverting a river to make one at the earliest opportunity. And once my uncle has an idea in his head, he is like a dog with a bone. He will not let go of it and can think of nothing else, much like his wife.”
Raising a gloved hand to her mouth, Margaret giggled. “How can one create a lake?”
At least this conversation was about something Christopher was an expert on. “A surveyor would have to ensure the area has sufficient slope and depth for the lake. Otherwise, the land or a retaining wall would have to be built up around it. Both are costly but not impossible processes. One would try to find the shortest route from the river to the proposed location. It costs around seven pounds a yard and a crew of over a hundred strong men and skilled laborers.”
Sarah leaned back in her seat, as if she were not nervous at all about their impending nuptials. Christopher could not say the same. He was wound up tighter than a clock. All of his movements felt jerky and unnatural. He blabbed on about canals.
“What a fascinating subject, Christopher. I had no idea the process was so complex or costly. I am glad that I warned you about the lake before our first dinner at Westbrook Park,” she said, her lips tilting upward into a slight smile. “It would not surprise me if halfway through the fish course, my uncle drags you out to show you where he wishes to put it. His estate is his passion.”
His head jerked back a little. “Are we to receive social invitations from Sir Oscar?”
Sarah nudged Margaret with her elbow. “Or, rather, from Lady Venetia. My aunt adores having company over. I am sure she will take you and your sister underneath her wing, Margaret. She misses her own daughters, who have all married and moved away. They have children of their own but none old enough yet for matchmaking, which my dear aunt believes she has a talent for.”
Margaret’s cheeks turned a pretty pink, and she gave Sarah a shy smile. “I would be honored by her interest.”
Sarah’s brown eyes focused back on him. “And, Christopher, you will receive invitations from Uncle Oscar to go hunting, but I feel I should also delicately hint that when my uncle says ‘hunting,’ he truly means birdwatching.”
Christopher didn’t have much experience shooting for sport. He was either overseeing the construction of canals or handling the business side in London. He was flattered that a baronet would include him in any sort of invitation. But all of that dimmed every time Sarah said his name. He liked how itsounded in her aristocratic voice. And he liked how his chest felt warm when her eyes focused on him.
“Now, tell me all about yourself, Margaret,” Sarah said, turning her attention back to his sister. “Do not leave out the smallest of details, for I want to know it all.”
At last Christopher was relaxed enough to be able to lean back and listen as his shy sister spilled all of her secrets to Sarah. Sarah listened raptly and asked several clarifying questions. Margaret blushed and talked more than Christopher had ever heard her speak. He learned more about his sister in these few minutes than he had in the last few years. He had not known how much Margaret loved music, nor that she was interested in learning how to play more instruments. He was amazed at how quickly Sarah had seemed to win his reticent sister over. Deb would not be so easily swayed.
When they arrived at the church in the village of Eden, he assisted both ladies out of the carriage. They were also met by clusters of flowers and clumps of rushes on the porch of the chapel. He wondered who had provided them. The wedding was small and private.
The vicar opened the door of the church in his ceremonial robes and came out to greet them. He was a young man. Christopher supposed that he must be younger than Sarah and only a handful of years older than Margaret. He was tall and handsome with dark skin and curly black hair that was cut close to his head. From his features, Christopher guessed that he was of both African and English descent. The young vicar must have attended Cambridge or Oxford for his degree, which made him more educated than Christopher. He hoped the young man would not hold Christopher’s lack of scholarly attainments against him. It would be nice to have a friend near his own age. He had employees and business acquaintances but few friends.And he was quite certain that the Honorable Ralph Randolph wasnotgoing to become one of that small number.
“Lady Sarah, how charming you look,” the young vicar said. “I do not know if I have ever seen a more beautiful bride.”
Smiling, she bowed to him. “Since I believe this is the first marriage you have ever performed, Mr. Robinson, I shall try not to become too conceited.”
Margaret giggled and then covered her mouth with her hand. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment when the vicar’s eyes landed on her.
“Where are my manners?” Sarah asked, drawing the attention away from his flustered sister. “I hope you will all forgive me. Miss Moulton and Mr. Moulton, may I present Mr. Brian Robinson? He is our new vicar and is recently come to us from Oxford. His father has a delightful estate nearby. Mr. Brian Robinson is quite the best addition to the neighborhood that we’ve had in years, with the exception of yourselves.”
Christopher held out his hand to Mr. Robinson.
The young man hesitated only a moment before shaking it and smiling at him. “It is wonderful to meet you, Mr. Moulton. And your sister.”
Poor Margaret’s face was as red as a cherry. Christopher’s sister had been at school for many years, and he supposed she had not come into contact with many handsome young men, nor a person of a darker skin tone. Christopher had worked on docks and in canals. He’d employed men from all over the world. He’d learned that the color of a man’s skin had nothing to do with his intelligence or his ability to work. A prime example was Mr. Sinclair, his best foreman, whose father was from India and his mother from England.
A fine carriage with a family crest on the panel pulled in front of the small church.
Sarah clapped her hands. “Ah, my aunt and uncle are here, as well as my cousin Ralph. He promised me he would behave, but if he doesn’t, can you all pretend you didn’t see it?”
