by Quinn, Ella
Four days later, Laia was in a bedchamber at Roselands dressing for her wedding, which would be held in the small chapel attached to the house.
“Are you nervous?” Thalia, Laia’s second youngest sister, asked.
“No, I am marrying the gentleman I wish to wed.” Something she had not thought would ever happen. Considering Father had arrived demanding she return home .She had been shocked that her father had not refused his consent, but then Mama had pointed out that it would have reflected poorly on Father and might have ruined Laia. Being betrothed to two Dukes of Bolton and failing to wed one of them would have caused a scandal. Laia had a feeling there was more to it than that, but this was not the time to question fate
“Well, I think his grace is very handsome,” Mary, the youngest, commented.
“Yes, he is.” Handsome in looks and actions. Laia glanced in the mirror and watched as Smithers, Laia’s maid, put flowers in her hair.
“I wish Mama, Meg, and Lady Phillip would get here soon.” Thalia turned a broach over and over in her hands.
Laia glanced at her right hand, where a modestly sized sapphire flanked by smaller diamonds circled her ring finger. It was beautiful and fit her exactly. Soon it would be on her left hand.
Lady Engle had the ruby ring. It had been her granddaughter’s.
“Here we are.” Mama swept into the room. “Thalia, you may begin.”
She handed the broach to Laia. “This is borrowed. It belongs to the dukedom’s jewelry and must be returned.” Then her sister whispered in a grave tone. “I think you should be able to keep it, but then it couldn’t be borrowed.”
Trying not to let her lips twitch, she replied in the same tone, “Very true.” She turned to her youngest sister. “Mary.”
She handed Laia a handkerchief embroidered with whitework on the edges and pulled a face. “This is new. I meant to give it to you for your birthday.”
“That’s all right, sweetie.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “I did not give you much time.”
Lady Phillip Paulet, Guy’s mother, stepped forward, bussed Laia on her cheek, and handed her a necklace of gold filigree set with sapphires, pearls, and diamonds. “This is old, and you will be allowed to keep it. Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Smithers fastened the necklace around Laia’s neck.
“And these are blue,” Meg said as she rushed into the room. “I was afraid I’d be late.” She handed Laia sapphire-tipped hair pins.
A few moments later, after her maid had replaced aquamarine-tipped pins with the new ones, they left the room and made their way to the hall, where her father waited.
Laia curtseyed to him. “Father, I am glad you could be here.”
“You have done the family credit by accepting the current Duke of Bolton.” Despite her father’s words he looked as if he’d eaten a lemon. “I trust you will be an obedient wife.”
Standing behind her father, Meg rolled her eyes.
“I will be just as his grace would like me to be.”
From the corner of Laia’s eye, she saw Euphrosyne grin, then cover her lips with a handkerchief. Lady Phillip pressed her lips together. Laia had not known her mother-in-law long, but she knew that her ladyship had not approved of Father’s statement.
“We should be going,” Mama said.
They made their way into the chapel, entering by the side door. The rector of the nearby church stood talking to Guy and Damon. Something must have alerted the man to women’s presence, as he stepped back and opened his prayer book.
Guy’s gaze captured hers as she strolled forward, and the rector began the ceremony. They each said their vows in firm voices and exchanged heated looks when he promised to worship her body. It was not until the ceremony was over that Laia realized she had not vowed to obey him.
Taking her arm, Guy escorted her to the register, and whispered, “I see that you realized something was missing.”
“Your doing, I suppose.” She picked up the pen.
“There was no point in having you make a promise you could not and should not keep.” She signed the page and handed the pen to him.
“How very modern of you,” she commented as he signed the register as well.
Guy placed the pen down and turned to her. “A marriage should not mean bondage for the woman.”
Laia’s heart swelled with joy. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Guy drew her into his arms while Meg and Damon signed the book as well. “I will never tire of hearing it.”
“I love you.”
Author’s Note
I hoped you enjoyed the third book in The Trevors. Those of you who have read my series The Marriage Game will recognize Damon and Meg and the Duke and Duchess of Somerset. If you are reading my books for the first time and wish to know more about my stories and me, visit me on www.ellaquinnauthor.com.
Not much is known about the summer season in Bath. The list of entertainments is accurate, as well as the fact that the waltz was not danced at the assembly rooms. I could find no description of the illuminations, although it seemed to me that the planners were likely to copy other places that had illuminations.
It is true that relics differ in England and on the Continent. Churches in Germany and France really do have skeletons dressed in silk, satin, velvets, and jewels.
And finally, you’ll notice, if you care about that type of thing, that I didn’t capitalize “your grace.” After discussions with some English authors and a bit more research, it appears that lower case is correct.
See Ella Quinn’s books on Amazon.com
MARRIED BY TWELFTH NIGHT
Book 4, of The Trevors
Chapter 1
Late June 1818, Somerset Castle
“Oh, my lady,” Lady Euphrosyne Trevor’s maid whispered excitedly. “Her grace’s maid told me to pack. We’re going to Bath!”
“Bath?” This had to be the strangest and most wonderful thing that had happened to Euphrosyne in her life. “Why?”
“Lady Laia is to be married,” Turner said, “and her grace wants her to have some experience getting on.”
Not only strange but sudden. “Do you happen to know whom she will wed?”
Laia appeared in the doorway, hands clasped at her waist, her smile broader than Euphrosyne had ever seen it. “The Duke of Bolton.”
The recently widowed Duke of Bolton. Euphrosyne remembered reading about the duchess’s untimely death. She also recalled the woman had been his fourth wife. “Isn’t he quite old?”
Laia’s smile wavered and a worried look entered her eyes. “I do not wish to discuss his age. After all, Father is much older than Mama.”
Euphrosyne decided not to press the issue. There was no point in upsetting her sister, and they were being allowed to go to Bath because of the betrothal. “As long as you are happy, that is all that matters.”
“We shall have so much fun! There are assemblies, and parks, and all sorts of things to do there.” Laia settled on the window seat next to Euphrosyne’s favorite chair. “I have never been so excited!”
“Who else is going with us?” She prayed her father was not. The Duke of Somerset was never in a good mood, and she avoided him as much as possible.
“Mama, the younger children, and the twins.”
“That will be fun.” Of her brothers and sisters still at home, only their thirteen year-old twin brothers, Decimus and William, had seen anything of the world, and that was due only to their being at Eton.
The following day, her father left for a tour of his estates, and a mere four days later, under clear skies, Euphrosyne and her family began their short journey to the spa town. They went first to Roselands, a modest family estate only a half hour from Bath. Thalia, their third sister, who was seventeen and too young for the entertainments in Bath, would remain there until the wedding with Mary, the youngest sister at eleven, and the twins. The children were accompanied by their nurse, nursemaids, tutors, and governess, and soon the h
ouse seemed to be teaming with people.
By the time Euphrosyne, her mother, and her sister arrived at the town house in Laura Place, it was almost time to dress for dinner. After descending to the pavement, Euphrosyne gazed up at the house that was part of a long row of town houses. The narrow house had four floors, including attics, and cellars. At least one would not become lost trying to find the dining room.
“Let us find our chambers and prepare for dinner.” Mama shook out her skirts and smiled. “Then I have a surprise for you.”
The butler opened the door, and Euphrosyne followed her mother and sister into the hall and up the stairs. She found her bedroom in the back of the house. Turner had already unpacked the trunks and put out a gown appropriate for dinner.
Throwing her gloves, reticule, and bonnet on the bed, Euphrosyne turned her back to her maid for help in getting out of her travel garments. “Please be quick. My mother said she has a surprise.”
“I’ll be a quick as I can, my lady, but you must allow me to turn you out properly, or her grace will let me go without a reference.” Turner handed Euphrosyne a wet cloth. “Wipe your face while I unfasten your gown.”
Less than forty minutes later, voices floated up the stairs as Euphrosyne descended. One deep voice in particular made her hasten her step, and when she entered the drawing room, she found her eldest brother and his wife. “Meg, Hawksworth! This is wonderful. I never dreamt you would be our surprise.”
“Now, that’s what I call a proper welcome!” The Marquis of Hawksworth twirled Euphrosyne around before setting her feet back on the floor.
“We’ve missed you.” She gave her sister-in-law a quick hug. “Thalia, Mary, and the twins are at Roselands. Will you visit them as well?”
“Of course we will.” Meg kissed Euphrosyne’s cheek. “We have missed all of you as well.”
Her father had barred Hawksworth and Meg from Somerset Castle. That they were here must have been the work of Mama.
The small drawing room already seemed crowded with people when her mother’s butler, Perkins, intoned, “Mr. Guy Paulet.”
A gentleman who bore a striking resemblance to Laia’s betrothed entered the room.
“Who is he?” Euphrosyne whispered to her sister-in-law.
“Oh, merely a friend of ours who just happens to be in Bath.” Meg strolled forward to greet the newcomer, and Euphrosyne followed suit.
She was surprised to discover that her mother already knew Mr. Paulet. Even more interesting was the look he gave her sister when they were introduced.
Just happens to be in Bath? My foot. She could almost smell a conspiracy in the air. Paulet was the family name of the Duke of Bolton. Good God! The man was the Duke of Bolton’s heir. Apparently, Euphrosyne wasn’t the only one not pleased with her sister’s betrothal.
Mama held out her hand. “Euphrosyne, I would like to introduce Mr. Paulet. Guy, my second daughter, Lady Euphrosyne.”
Euphrosyne curtseyed, and he bowed once again. “Delighted, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at her brother. “I am always happy to meet my brother’s friends.” Leaning toward Mr. Paulet a bit, she said, “We do not often get to do so.”
Her sister-in-law pressed a glass of lemonade into her hand. “Come. Let us have a comfortable coze until dinner is served.”
Mr. Paulet had drawn Laia aside, engaging her in conversation. Euphrosyne took a sip of lemonade. “What are you up to?”
“Why”—Meg’s eyes widened—“would you think I am up to anything at all?”
“I know who Mr. Paulet is, and I have the feeling you are no more in favor of this betrothal than am I.”
“Let us say I have some concerns.” The tone she used was considerably drier than before.
“You can count on me to help.” Unlike Laia, Euphrosyne believed their father had nothing in mind but his own benefit when he’d selected Bolton. “I would not let Laia know what you are about. She can be extremely dutiful and stubborn.”
“That’s what Hawksworth said.” She cut a glance at Laia and Mr. Paulet. “We’ll take things as slowly as possible. But what about you? Will you use this time to cast around for a husband?”
Frankly, Euphrosyne had been so thrilled to leave Somerset Castle for this small bit of freedom, she hadn’t given her plans much thought. But why not look for a husband? “If I find someone I would like to wed. And of whom Father would approve. Unfortunately, I am not near enough to my majority to completely ignore his wishes.”
A shrewd look appeared on her sister-in-law’s face. “As my grandmother Featherton always says, where there is a will there is a way. Even though the path might not be easy.”
Or it might be close to impossible. “Let’s first see if there are any eligible gentlemen in Bath.” She grinned. “Other than Mr. Paulet.” Euphrosyne finished her lemonade. “The first thing I want to do is see the sights. The leasing agent gave us a guide book. I plan to read it before retiring.”
“Please do. I have never been to Bath before, but I hear there are many sights.”
Yet, later that evening, when she went to fetch the guide book from the morning room to take to her sister’s room so that they could look at it together, it wasn’t anywhere to be found. She went to the library, but it wasn’t there either. She was pleased to discover several novels, however, to help her while away the time.
The following morning, Hawksworth and Mr. Paulet joined Laia and Euphrosyne for breakfast.
“Your mother and Meg intend to visit the Pump Room,” her brother said, taking two more pieces of toast. Euphrosyne was glad she’d claimed her pieces. Hawksworth went through food like a horde of locusts. “Do you wish to go and drink the waters?”
Even at nineteen, she couldn’t help but make a face. The waters had a reputation of tasting horrible. She’d also heard that the season in Bath was over, so she would probably find few ladies of her age with whom to speak.
“In that case,” Hawksworth continued, “I propose we either order the horses to be brought round, or we can explore Sydney Gardens. It is your choice.”
Euphrosyne’s jaw dropped open, and she snapped it shut. Only on their birthdays were they ever given a choice of what to do. Even then, they were restricted to the grounds. The problem was that without benefit of the guide book, she did not know what there was to see.
“Sydney Gardens,” Laia said. “I read that they have shady groves, grottoes, labyrinths, and waterfalls, gala nights, illuminations, and public breakfasts in summer. May we see them all?”
“So that is where the guide book went to.” Euphrosyne narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I searched for it for over an hour last night.”
“You should have asked,” Laia said in her I’m-the-elder-sister tone, which usually set Euphrosyne’s teeth on edge.
Well, her sister wasn’t getting away with it this time. She raised a brow. “Indeed? I did not ask because it did not occur to me that you might have taken it and not offered to share.”
At last her sister looked contrite. “I apologize. You’re right. I should have told you I had it.”
“We will see as much as possible of Sydney Gardens.” Hawksworth laughed. “But we must trust that your mother and Meg discover the dates of the gala night, illuminations, breakfasts, and what else Bath has to offer us.”
“I have had the opportunity to visit Sydney Gardens,” Mr. Paulet said. “They are extremely interesting. I also took the time to discover the key to the labyrinth.”
Euphrosyne would rather attempt to conquer the labyrinth without a key. Still, her sister would like his preparedness.
“When shall we leave?” Laia placed her serviette on the table.
“As soon as you and Euphrosyne are ready,” Hawksworth replied.
She pushed back her chair. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“I as well.” Euphrosyne followed her sister out of the room. “Is the guide book interesting?”
“I am not sure I would say that, but i
t does list a great many places to see and things to do. Would you like to look through it when we return?”
“Yes, thank you.” They were half-way to their rooms when an idea struck her. “Do you think Mama will allow us to read novels”—negating the necessity to hide the one she had found—“now that Father is not here to stop us?”
“We shall ask, but try not to be upset if she refuses.”
“I won’t.” Euphrosyne would simply keep her book at the bottom of her wardrobe. If only she hadn’t mentioned novels in the context of love matches to their father, he wouldn’t have taken them away. Deciding to test her sister’s interest, she said as casually as possible, “Mr. Paulet seems to be very nice.”
“Yes.” Laia’s brows drew together slightly. “Yes, he does. I would imagine most of our brother’s friends are nice.”
“Perhaps we shall meet more of them.” Now that there might be a possibility of meeting a gentleman, Euphrosyne wondered if Meg and Hawksworth had invited another of their friends to Bath, and Euphrosyne would meet him soon.
Thirty minutes later, almost to the second, the foursome stepped onto the pavement in front of the Laura Place house.
“Come, little one.” Hawksworth took her hand and placed it on his arm. “Paulet, please escort Laia.”
“My lady.” Mr. Paulet bowed. “Escorting you would be my pleasure.”
Euphrosyne grinned to herself. He was charming and handsome. At this rate, her sister would be sure to find Mr. Paulet preferable to the duke. They started up the hill to Sydney Gardens.
They were within sight of the gardens when she stopped to look down at the view from whence they’d come. The city seemed to have been designed in a plan and dotted with gardens. “It’s beautiful here.” It was still early, and not many people were about. She turned her attention to the Sydney Gardens. Paths wandered between colorful flower beds. “What shall we do first?”
“I think we might begin with the labyrinth,” Mr. Paulet offered. “As the morning becomes warmer, we can visit the grotto.”