“You needn’t lift a single finger,” Evie interrupted airily. “I already have everything planned. The food, the decorations, the invitation list. Which you can change as you see fit. Although I’m sure Hanover and Weston have similar acquaintances, so it shouldn’t need to be changed that much. The music is accounted for. A solo harpist for the ceremony at the church, and then a full orchestra for the reception. Itwillneed to be at Hawkridge Manor as construction has begun on the pavilions–”
“Pavilions?” Rosemary said weakly. “As in more than one?”
“–but surely that won’t be an issue. I’ve ordered cases of champagne in advance that should be arriving any week. The doves are nearly ready. Apparently, there is one that isn’t staying with the others when they’re released, but the farmer assures me they’ll all be expertly trained by the wedding so you needn’t worry.” She paused, but only to take a breath. “I have theperfectmodiste, Mademoiselle Claudette. It’s a tad late to start a gown for you from scratch, but if we keep the square cut neckline and adjust the length of the sleeves–”
“You’re frightening your poor cousin half to death,” Weston cut in. “Maybe give her time to decide if shewantsto be married in six weeks before you bludgeon her over the head with all the details. And in case you’ve forgotten, a wedding generally requires two people.”
“Bludgeoning?” Evie huffed. She looked at Rosemary, who shifted her weight uncomfortably from her left foot to her right. “I’m notbludgeoning. Am I?”
“Um…yes?” she said hesitantly. “I mean no. I mean…maybe?”
“See?” said Evie, poking her husband in the ribs with her elbow. “Maybe.”
“Maybe is what nice people say when they don’t want to hurt your feelings as you are bludgeoning them,” he said mildly. “Besides, the last I checked, a wedding requires a brideanda groom. For all you know, Sterling has his heart set on getting married in the spring.”
“Whathewants doesn’t matter. This is all about Rosemary. But I do suppose itisa lot to absorb on such short notice,” she allowed. “Why don’t we take our leave and let you sleep on it, then we can begin planning in the morning. Have you ever been to the outdoor tea room at the Staffordshire Hotel?”
Rosemary shook her head.
“Excellent. Neither have I, but Brynne says they have the most divine muffins anywhere in the city. The American kind, not those plain, chewy circles of dry bread that you lot call a muffin.” Evie’s nose wrinkled. “I’ll have a table reserved for the four of us, as Brynne and Joanna should be returning tonight. They continued on to Glenavon while we remained in Gretna Green for some celebratory…erm…”
“Bird watching,” Weston supplied, straight-faced.
“Yes,” Evie said with a wink. “Bird watching.”
“Oh.Oh,” Rosemary repeated, her cheeks heating. “What–what time tomorrow?”
“Half past ten?”
“That should be fine.” She didn’t yet know what she was going to tell her grandmother. While Sterling had won Lady Ellinwood’s approval, that same acceptance had decidedlynotbeen extended to Evie or Joanna. Courtesy of her cousin’s impromptu venture to Scotland, they hadn’t needed to address the proverbial elephants in the room. But if they waited much longer, the elephants were going to show up wearing matching bridesmaid dresses.
“Until tomorrow, then.” The cousins shared a brief hug and then Evie flitted out the door with Weston right on her heels.
The earl was going to make a good father.
Far better, Rosemary suspected, than his own had been.
She wasn’t privy to all the details that comprised the cold relationship between the Marquess of Dorchester and his twin children. But when you were quiet, and read books, people tended to talk as if you were no more present than a piece of furniture. Which meant she’d overheard many a conversation over the years, and more than a few of those conversations had centered on Brynne, Weston, and their father.
She knew that they’d been raised by a small army of nannies and governesses. That the marquess had been an absent figure in their lives, preferring to travel to remote areas of Europe rather than remain in England and raise his own children.
How fortunate for Evie and her baby that the cycle of icy dismissiveness would break with Weston. It was obvious, just by the way he’d gazed at her as she touched her stomach, that their future child was going to be blessed with two loving, attentive parents…in addition to a quartet of adoring aunties.
But his wasn’t the only cycle that needed breaking.
When Lady Ellinwood returned home, Rosemary was there to greet her with tea and a cucumber sandwich sans crust, just like her grandmother liked. She’d even gone so far as to add a green olive, spearing it through the middle with a sewing needle to hold the olive onto the bread. It was, she knew, her grandmother’s favorite food…and a blatant attempt at bribery.
“What’s all this?” Lady Ellinwood said sharply as she took to her preferred chair in the drawing room and set her cane aside.
“I thought you might be hungry after your morning of shopping. Did you not find what you were looking for?” Rosemary asked, noting the lack of packages that would ordinarily follow her grandmother through the door after an outing on Bond Street.
“I was searching for a blue scarf to match my gloves with the white stitching.”
“And?” Pouring them both cups of tea, she set her grandmother’s on a small circular table beside her chair along with the sandwich and sat directly across from her on a hard, flat sofa that had undoubtedly been placed opposite Lady Ellinwood’s winged armchair because itwashard and flat, and thus would automatically place anyone who visited her at a disadvantage.
“And I didn’t find one. What is this about, Rosemary?” Leaving her food untouched, even the olive, Lady Ellinwood assessed her granddaughter with the critical eye of a hawk. “Has the Duke of Hanover called off the engagement? Is that what you need to tell me? Because if it is, best come out with it now and we can set about finding you a replacement suitor before too much damage is done.”
“What? No! The duke hasn’t called off our engagement.” Rosemary set her cup down with a clatter. “Why would you think that?”
