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She winked, and Marianne shook her head in amusement. “I hope you will be happy with him,” she returned in a low voice, tipping her head toward Mr. Wakefield, “even though he is the cousin of a lord.”

They shared a smile, then Beatrice sobered. “Do not worry about me, Marianne. He is a good man. I will be happy with him. I’m certain of it.”

Marianne could only pray that was true.

The sisters shared a departing embrace, then Beatrice moved toward Mr. Wakefield, bidding her farewell to Edward next.

Marianne made to stand beside her husband, the distance between them—merely a few feet—too far for her comfort, though they would be confined in their borrowed carriage from Father over the next few days. But when Edward’s mother came up to speak with her next, she remained where she stood, her smile brightening.

“What a lovely day it has been,” Mrs. Steele said, “and what a beautiful bride you make.”

Mrs. Steele had only arrived in Ashwick a few days before the wedding, but in what little time Marianne had spent with her, she knew she was going to bond with the woman splendidly. Mrs. Steele’s confidence, kindness, and strength exuded from her character like the sunshine had broken through the clouds that morning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Steele. I am so pleased you could come. I very much look forward to getting to know you better.”

“After everything my son has shared with me about you, I already know we shall be the best of friends.” She leaned closer. “You see, I, too, have a penchant for pastries.”

She winked, and Marianne’s heart warmed. Yes, the two Steele women were going to get on splendidly.

Mrs. Steele moved away then, Mother and Father stepping up next. “Take care, Marianne,” Father said with a rigid nod, his eyes moving about as if afraid to meet her gaze. “Of the carriage, the team, and yourself.”

“I will, Father.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Matters had been strained between them since before the proposal had taken place, but Marianne had expected as much. That was another reason she was grateful she and Edward would remain at Daffley for a while longer, if only to force Father to see that she was still his daughter, and that Edward was a respectable man.

“Mr. Steele will ensure everything is taken care of as well,” she said, almost pointedly.

Father nodded, though he looked pained to agree with her on such a matter. Then he reached for her hand and placed a kiss to the back of it. “I…I love you, my dear. And I wish you every happiness.”

He dropped her hand as if it was scalding, then he moved to address Edward.

She stared after him. Would he ever forgive her for betraying his trust? For marrying a woodcarver?

“His pride will be alleviated at some point,” Mother said with a shake of her head, as if she heard Marianne’s plight. “Until then, you and I shall veritably beat him over the head with your new husband’s various accomplishments and good qualities.”

“I do love that plan.”

They shared a small laugh, and Mother embraced her. “I’m so pleased you will be with us when you return and that you shall not be living so very far away. I’ve already spoken with Father about spending a few months in Bath next year. Queen’s Square is not too far away from Mr. Steele’s shop, I understand. We shall have a grand time exploring more of Bath together. Perhaps we may convince the Wakefields to join us, too.”

The very notion sounded too good to be true. But then, her life seemed too good to be true. Thankfully, it was. “That would be delightful, Mother.”

The rigid stances of Edward and Father caught her eyes again, the two men speaking with stinted words and impassive expressions—characteristic of each of their conversations over the last few weeks.

“Well,” Mother whispered, “at least the two of them could rival one another’s pride.”

“Indeed, at least they are both on their best behavior, though.”

“Mm.” Mother shook her head. “They are ridiculous, are they not? And yet, are we not the more ridiculous ones to have fallen for them?” She glanced sidelong at Marianne, a twinkle in her eyes. “I suppose for the Coventry women, there is something irresistible about a working-class man, is there not?”

Marianne smiled. She could not have agreed more.

“I will ensure she returns in one piece, sir, yes.”

Edward stood across from Mr. Coventry, each of them holding their hands behind their backs—no doubt each of them wishing for their painful conversation to finally come to a close.

And yet, they both knew they had to make some effort with one another—if only for Marianne’s sake.

“Very good.” Mr. Coventry took a step back. “Then I wish you a safe journey. Goodbye, Mr. Steele.”