Page 74 of The Subtle Craft of Courting Kate

“He’s a menace to society and to me in particular,” Elliot said. And then, “Ouch!” as Mrs. Norris swatted his hand away from a third pastry. He pulled a pout, asking sullenly, “What was that for?”

Mrs. Norris sniffed, “As you’ve decided to inflict guests upon this household with no notice whatsoever, you’ll reserve the rest of these for those guests.”

“Could we not trouble you for a few more, Mrs. Norris?” Kate asked as she slid into her seat, smoothing at the soft blue silk of her skirts. “I had the dubious pleasure of Lord Andrew’s company for breakfast yesterday, and I’m not certain what is left will sustain him, let alone anyone else. Ah,” she said, brightening. “Here’s Mama.”

Mrs. Littlefield swept in, joy shining in her face as she rounded the dining table, headed straight for Elliot. “Oh, my darling boy,” she said as she pinched his cheeks in an excess of affection. “Kate has just told me the news.”

“She is delighted, as you can see,” Kate drawled as she poured herself a cup of tea. “Mama, you are squishing Elliot’s face.”

“He doesn’t mind it,” Mrs. Littlefield declared, her eyes glistening behind the lenses of her spectacles. “Do you?”

“Not at all,” Elliot said congenially. Or tried to, because his face was rather squished between her palms at the moment, and so it had come out in a bit of a mumble. “But I really would like another pastry.”

Mrs. Norris threw up her hands. “If someone might tell me why I am expected to feed half of London!”

From the doorway, Hodges intoned in notes of confusion, “Lord and Lady Crewe have arrived. For the…wedding?”

“The wedding!” Taken aback, Mrs. Norris placed one hand over her heart as her brows vaulted toward her hairline. “Whose wedding?”

“Mine,” Elliot said, and snatched up a third pastry the instant Mrs. Littlefield released his face, taking advantage of Mrs. Norris’ shocked distraction. “And Kate’s,” he said as he bit into it. “We are getting married. The reverend ought to be here in a half an hour or so. So, about those pastries…”

“Pastries?” Richard asked as he and Rebecca settled into chairs of their own. “Love a pastry,” he said as he reached for one. “Are those walnuts?”

“Mrs. Norris’ own recipe,” Elliot said. “They’re delicious.” And swiftly disappearing. “Please, couldn’t we have just a few more? It is my wedding day.”

“And mine,” Kate interjected dryly.

“But how?” Mrs. Norris asked. “You have got to have a license, a ring—”

“I have got both,” Elliot said. “It has been a terribly busy morning. I’ve been up since well before dawn, beating down various doors.” He stretched his hand across the table toward Kate, who clasped his fingers in hers. “We didn’t want a long engagement, nor to stay overlong in London. We want to be back in Northampton, building our home. But we’d rather begin our marriage here, in the company of those we love best.”

Mrs. Norris choked back a little sob and dashed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re getting married here?”

“Of course. We wanted you and Hodges both to attend,” Elliot said. “With a special license, we can marry when and where we please. And that is going to be here. Today.”

Mrs. Norris sniffled, her eyes watering as she swept around the table to enfold Kate in a gentle embrace. “Oh, my dear girl,” she said. “I am so happy for you.”

Elliot cleared his throat pointedly.

“For you both,” Mrs. Norris corrected with a joyful little sniffle. “And just this once, I will bake extra pastries. On account of your wedding.” Scrubbing at her eyes, she retreated once more to the kitchen.

A surly grumble proceeded Drew into the room only a few moments later. “What manner of chaos are you causing now?” Drew groused to Elliot as he slung himself into a chair and lurched for the teapot to pour himself a cup. “It’s beyond the pale to send anyone—even family—a summons at such an hour. And why is Mrs. Norris crying?”

“Happiness,” Elliot said. “You’re just in time to attend our wedding. I wouldn’t have invited you, but Kate insisted—” He jerked, flinching. “Kate, it’s quite rude to kick people beneath the table.”

“It’s quite rude to insinuate your brother isn’t welcome,” Kate responded primly.

“Hell,” Drew grunted as he poured himself a cup of tea. “Congratulations are in order, then, I suppose.” He lifted his tea cup in a mock-salute. “Congratulations,” he said to Kate, though the dry tone of his voice suggested that she had earned his condolences instead. “He’s your problem, now.”

Behind the rim of her own cup, Kate smiled.

Epilogue

As Kate drove the sheep out to pasture in the early hours of the morning, just as the first flickers of the rising sun began to bloom over the hill, Kate caught sight of a familiar figure lying in the grass. Sheep ambled past as she attempted to nudge them around the sleeping form, and Kate heaved a sigh, lifting her shepherd’s crook in one hand. “Elliot,” she said in exasperation as she jabbed her sleeping husband in the ribs. “You are going to be stepped on.”

The warning had come a fraction of a second too late. A tiny lamb gamboled and pranced across the open land, performing a jaunty and exuberant leap, only to land directly on Elliot’s midsection.

“Oof,” he grunted, rudely yanked from a sound sleep. Reflexively his arms caught the small, squirming creature as he lurched upright, coming awake with a massive yawn. The little lamb bleated square in Elliot’s face. “Ah. It’s that time, then,” he said as he hefted the lamb up to examine it. “Which one is this?”