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“I am well, Grandmother.” His voice had recovered a good deal of its strength. “It is not a serious wound. I’m sure the surgeon says so. I shall be mended well before the wedding.”

Leonora, who had been reaching for a handkerchief, froze with her hand in the air.

“Wedding?” she asked.

“Ours.” Anthony turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. “We are engaged, remember? We need to plan the wedding.”

Her cheeks felt hot. “You have not asked me.”

“Then I should.” He pushed himself up against the pillows with a wince, and held out his good hand. Leonora took it before she had thought. “I had meant to do this with a ring, but I find I cannot wait, and I would like these ladies to hear it, since they will probably have to plan it.” The teasing went out of his voice. “Leonora Ashcroft. You are braver and more stubborn than anyone I have ever met. You walked into my life and gave life to it. I love you. Will you marry me? Will you spend the rest of your life with me, as my wife... as my duchess?”

The room went silent. Rose had both hands pressed to her mouth. Lady Byron had stopped dead with her handkerchief halfway to her face, and her chin was trembling. Marian stood quite still, for once with nothing to say.

Leonora felt the color climb from her collar to her hairline. She looked at their joined hands. She looked at her mother’s eyes. She had said for years that she would never marry anyone. That love could not possibly be in the books for her.

What a fool she had been.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you impossible man. Yes.”

Anthony lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. Rose let out a sob and sat down on the edge of the nearest chair.

“I shall want it in the spring, naturally,” Marian said at last, very blandly, once she had found her voice. “I did ask you what you thought of a spring wedding, Anthony, and you asked whether I wished for more tea.”

“Grandmother...”

“I am only saying that I have waited a great while to be answered.” She patted the cat. “Now, Leonora, you will not have to do any of it alone. You have your mother.” She nodded at Rose. “You have Lady Byron, who has no taste whatsoever, but a very good heart. You have me, who has excellent taste and no heart to speak of, according to my relations. That is two mothers and a grandmother, my dear. Add your sisters, and you will find yourself the most thoroughly managed bride in England.”

“God help me,” said Leonora.

“God help all of us,” said Lady Byron.

Anthony’s laugh turned into a grunt of pain. He laid back and shut his eyes, grinning like a boy.

“You still have to tell me how your mother is alive, my darling,” he whispered to her. “Imagine my shock when I saw her outside Brighton house.”

“I’ll tell you everything,” she said, squeezing his hand. “In due time.”

Leonora looked around at the four of them. At her mother, who was crying quite openly, and she smiled so brightly, her cheeks hurt. Then at the man in the bed, who had her hand again and would not let go.

She was, she realized, very lucky indeed.

The church at Glenhaven had never seen so many people in it.

Three weeks had been exactly long enough for Marian to terrify a county into order. The pews were crowded to the walls with tenants in their Sunday coats and neighbors who had not been invited and had come anyway. White roses were banked along the aisle so thickly that the whole place smelled like the inside of a garden. At the front, the stiff, handsome Duke of Glenhaven stood at the rail with his left arm out of its sling for the first time that morning. He had refused to wear it to the altar.

William stood at his side, murmuring something out of the corner of his mouth, and Anthony’s mouth was twitching as he tried not to look round.

In the vestry, Leonora was being fastened into her gown.

“Hold still,” said Seraphina, who had pins in her mouth.

“I am holding still.”

“You are vibrating.” Euphemia knelt to arrange the hem. “Do you know, I never saw a bride more calm in the church and more unhinged in the vestry. Breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“Not enough.”