He knew how much difference even a few pounds could make to people living on the bare edge of poverty. “Of course, and as your friends, they must be invited to the ceremony and the wedding breakfast.”
“We must also invite those people we’ve met tonight,” she said warmly.
“Certainly,” he agreed. “They are well on their way to becoming our friends.”
Suzanne laughed. “The women will probably want to swoop in and organize the wedding. If so, they are welcome to do so!”
More seriously, Simon said, “There is the matter of spying for Kirkland, but as he pointed out, that is separate from our marriage. Like an old warhorse, I must answer the call of duty, but you don’t have to join me.”
She smiled ruefully. “If we meet the émigrés as a couple, it will be more effective, won’t it? I am gaining so much by this marriage that it is only fair I keep you company while you see what you may learn.”
He gave an inward sigh of relief. “Thank you, your presence will be valuable. It’s also another reason to marry soon since anything might happen with Bonaparte.” He rose and offered his arm. “Shall we join the others and announce our news?”
“I’m sure all those romantic couples will be pleased.” Suzanne rose gracefully and took his arm, but her fingers felt cold even through the fabric of his coat. She still had her fears, he realized, but he guessed that now she had chosen her course, she would not turn back.
As they made their way to the drawing room, Simon felt a warm sense of—no, not possessiveness. Suzanne had made it clear that she would be no man’s possession. More a sense of belonging. Yes, that was it. They belonged together. He’d do his best to see that she came to feel the same way.
When they entered the drawing room, where tea and coffee were being served, there was a hush as all eyes turned toward them. Simon announced, “Suzanne has done me the honor of accepting my proposal. We haven’t worked out the details, but the wedding will be in about a week, and you’re all invited.”
A babble of congratulations filled the room. Callie with the sunset hair exclaimed, “There is scarcely time to make up your bride clothes, Suzanne! We’ll need to get busy.”
“I don’t need anything new. Our wedding will be a small affair.” Her voice lowered. “I’m a widow, you know. This is not my first marriage.”
“God willing, it will be your last,” Callie said seriously. “This will be a special day and you deserve to feel special. I have a length of green silk that will look ravishing on you.”
“Perhaps the gown could be trimmed with silver ribbon and lace for a touch of extra richness,” Rory said thoughtfully. “Since you’re new to London, Suzanne, do you need help organizing the wedding? I’m at your service.”
Suzanne realized that she’d need a witness, and Rory was the woman she knew best. “Rory, will you stand up with me?”
“I’d be delighted,” her friend said promptly. “After all you did to make my wedding special, I’m happy to return the favor!”
Simon said, “I need a man to stand at my side, also. Masterson, are you willing? Since you thanked me for almost getting you killed, that seems only fair.”
Masterson laughed. “I’m not sure I follow your logic, but I’m honored to accept.”
Tears stung Suzanne’s eyes as she saw the genuine pleasure everyone felt for her and Simon. Would their marriage live up to these good wishes even though it was made without passion? She hoped so.
* * *
As the women’s wedding discussion became animated, Kirkland strolled to Simon’s side. “You’re a lucky man, Colonel.”
“I know.” Simon’s gaze lingered on his bride-to-be. She sparkled with laughter, and the sight made him happy. “I wasn’t sure I could coax her to the altar.”
“Is she also willing to join your investigation of the émigrés?”
“Yes, and the business will be more enjoyable with her on my arm.” Simon sipped at his tea. “I’ve heard that a good number of émigrés have returned to France in the months since Napoleon’s abdication, presumably to reclaim their former lands and wealth.”
“Which makes one wonder about the ones who have remained in London,” Kirkland observed. “Some have put down roots here, others may be waiting for the situation in France to stabilize, but I’d be surprised if there aren’t a few gathering intelligence to support Napoleon if he decides Elba is not a large enough kingdom for a man of his talents.”
“Which of the remaining émigrés do you think bear watching?”
Kirkland’s brow furrowed. “I consider Roubaix, de Chaurry, and Moncoutant most likely. I don’t know that they could be considered spies, but they may know interesting things. I’ll also let some influential émigrés know of your arrival so that you can be added to invitation lists.”
“I’ll see what I can discover.” Simon couldn’t restrain his smile as he gazed at Suzanne. “But just now, I’m far more interested in the fact that I’m getting married.”
* * *
By the time Simon collected Suzanne to take her home, she was tired but happy. She’d been scarcely more than a child at her first marriage and she’d had no voice in planning it. Organizing a wedding with a small group of supportive new friends turned out to be much more rewarding.
Because of the damp, bitterly cold weather, Simon had hired a closed carriage and driver for the night. After handing her into the vehicle, he tucked a soft wool blanket around her.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked as he took his seat beside her.
“Between the blanket and the hot bricks for my feet, I’m cozy as a kitten in hay,” she assured him.
“What wedding plans have emerged?” he asked.
“Lady Kirkland has offered their home for the wedding breakfast. She said they entertain often so it’s easy for her to arrange. Does that suit you?”
“Very generous of them,” he said. “Do you wish for the ceremony to take place there as well? With a special license, we can do that.”
She considered that, then shook her head. “I want to be married in my parish church. They’ve been welcoming to poor émigrés like me.”
“A church makes a wedding seem more official,” he observed. “After the service, I can arrange to have carriages take your friends to Kirkland House for the wedding breakfast, then drive them home again later.” He glanced sideways at her. “Do you want to move out of the boardinghouse tomorrow? I’m sure the Kirklands would be happy to have you as a guest until we marry.”
She shook her head. “The boardinghouse has been my home and it seems right that I be married from there.”
“As you wish. What about your wedding gown? From the bits of conversation I overheard, that was a major topic of the discussion.”
Suzanne laughed. “Indeed it was. The consensus was that the green silk Callie suggested would suit me well. She has a modiste who can produce a fine gown in mere days. I’ll have to have fittings and buy things like slippers and shifts and a bonnet, though. It will be a busy week!”
“We also need to visit my solicitor for the settlements. Shall I engage a separate lawyer to protect your interests?”
She blinked. “Is that necessary?”
“I’ll tell my lawyer to write the document in language clear enough for a normal person to understand, but I can also arrange for you to have your own advocate to ensure that you’re treated fairly.”
She studied his calm, handsome profile and realized that she couldn’t imagine him cheating her on this matter. “As long as the language is clear, I don’t need a second lawyer.”
He accepted that with a nod. “When would you like to start on your lessons in shooting and self-defense?”
He really was serious about granting her requests. “There won’t be much time this week, so better to start after we’re married,” she decided. “Are we going to have a honeymoon? It’s not necessary.”
“I thought after a day or two in town to recover from the wedding, we could visit
my estate. Our estate. White Horse Manor is in Berkshire, not far from London.” There was a smile in his voice. “You can try out the horses and learn to become dangerous.”
She laughed. “The perfect honeymoon! Yes, please.”
“Tomorrow I’d like to take you to the house again so I can introduce you to the Merciers as their new mistress.”
“I don’t think they’ll be surprised at the news. I assume more servants will be hired now that the house will be occupied?”
“Yes, several. A groom, a footman, several house and kitchen maids. A lady’s maid for you and I suppose I need a valet.” He looked hopeful. “As mistress of the household, hiring staff is surely your job?”
She smiled at his reluctance. “I expect it is. I’ll ask the Merciers what they need for the household staff, but I have some thoughts about our personal servants.”
She glanced up at him. “Two of the older women at the boardinghouse, Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Parker, are both widows who have been longing to set up a small shop for sweets and baked goods. With the gifts you’ve agreed to settle on them, I expect they’ll do well.”
“Isn’t there another woman?” he asked.
“Yes, Jenny Dunne. She’s younger, about my age. We were both supporting ourselves doing piecework and sometimes we’d sew together. She has a lovely hand with a needle.” Suzanne bit her lip. “I wonder if she could work for me. She was a lady’s maid, but she was turned off without a reference.”
“Did she say why?”
“She was assaulted by the son of the house and her mistress blamed her,” Suzanne said, unable to suppress her anger.
“It’s a common story,” Simon said, his expression grave. “If you want to hire her, by all means do so. If she was exaggerating her experience as a lady’s maid, we should be able to find something else for her in the household.”
“Thank you, I will. I’m sure she’ll do a good job. But there’s more.”
Simon raised his brows encouragingly, so Suzanne continued, “I’d like to give her some time to visit her family in Dorset. She hasn’t seen them for years. She’s also desperate to see her sweetheart, who recently returned to his home village. He was in the army, an officer’s batman.”
Simon grinned. “I think I see where this is going. Are you recommending him to be my valet?”
“Yes, but there’s a problem. He was injured in the Battle of Toulouse. Jenny was told by her mother that his face is scarred and his left hand was damaged and isn’t as strong as it was. His own mother is very worried because he feels worthless, like a burden on his family because he can’t do any kind of heavy work anymore.”
“Most valet work isn’t heavy. If he’s been a batman, he should have a good idea of what’s needed. Have her bring him along when she returns to London. Unless he and I hate each other, he can work for me.”
“You are being so kind to me!” she exclaimed. “I don’t deserve so much.”
“Ah, but you do, milady,” he said softly. “You see me as an individual, and you’re willing to take me on even though I’m a war weary Anglo-French soldier with too much history. You can’t know how much I appreciate that.”
She hadn’t fully realized that before. But she did now.
Chapter 8
After a busy week of rain, meetings, rain, fittings, rain, and gatherings with her new friends, the day of Suzanne’s wedding dawned bright and clear. A dusting of snow veiled the city with a brief moment of white purity. Suzanne had hardly been able to sleep from a combination of excitement and alarm. She didn’t fear Simon, but the thought of marriage still made her skittish.
Then Rory arrived with the dawn, her bright enthusiasm dispelling doubts. Suzanne heard the knock at the front door and hastened down the steps to find Mr. Potter admitting Rory and her husband to the sitting rooms. Seeing Suzanne, Rory explained, “Since I’m standing up with you, I thought I should arrive early to help you dress, hold your hand, and soothe your nerves.”
“Thank you! I need all those things. Captain Hawkins, I see you have been enlisted to carry the wedding gown.” She gestured at the long canvas-covered bag that was draped over his arm. “Or are you here to defend your lady from the perils of early morning London?”
He smiled at her. “Some of both, but my main reason is to ask if you’d like someone to walk you down the aisle. Rory made it very clear to me that no man is giving you away—you’re giving yourself of your own free will. But would you like having a friend at your side?”
She bit her lip as her eyes teared up. “What a lovely idea! Thank you, Captain. I’d like that very much.”
He gave her a warm hug with the arm that wasn’t encumbered by the gown. “So would I.” Carefully he draped the canvas bag over the back of the sofa. “I’ve also brought a basket of cakes and biscuits and sausage rolls to provide breakfast for everyone in the house.”
“You are a saint!” she said, hugging him back.
The next two hours were spent in laughter and eating in the sitting room. The Potters and the other boarders joined in.
The boardinghouse residents left for the church while Rory was making the final adjustments to Suzanne’s appearance. The green and silver gown matched the green and silver ribbon-trimmed bonnet she’d ordered, and Athena Masterson had given her a delicate emerald and pearl necklace set that was the perfect complement.
Suzanne turned to gaze into the mottled mirror in her bedroom. Though it was too small to show her full image, it was clear enough to make her throat tighten. She looked her best. More than that, she looked like her own woman in a way that she never had before.
“You look beautiful,” Rory said warmly. “Even more beautiful than usual. But don’t you dare cry and ruin all my work!”
The comment made Suzanne laugh. “I’ll do my best not to.”
She lifted her skirts to examine her green and silver slippers. Rory had really done an amazing job in creating this ensemble so quickly. “I’m glad it’s not raining. I’d hate to ruin these.” Then she left her small, cold room and moved down the steep stairs toward her new life.
Hawkins was waiting there with their warm cloaks. Suzanne’s was dark green velvet trimmed with dark fur, a gift from Callie. Such generous friends she’d acquired!
Their carriage waited outside for the short drive to the parish church, but the distance was long enough for Suzanne’s nerves to begin to flutter again.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Rory said with a pat on Suzanne’s gloved hand. “Marriage is a very fine institution and Colonel Duval is a very fine man. Hawkins said that he was the one who took the most risks in escaping from the cellar where they awaited execution. Ask him about it.”
“I will,” Suzanne said a little unsteadily. She’d met Simon half a lifetime ago, and even though they hadn’t seen each other in years, she trusted him. And if the marriage didn’t work out, she now had the means to leave and live comfortably.
But she wanted rather desperately for it to work. She owed that to Simon. Even more, she was tired of being alone.
They arrived at the church and Hawkins guided them up the steps with a lady on each arm. He was such a kind, reliable man, with the courage of a lion as she had observed firsthand. She sensed that Simon had similar qualities of courage and rock solid reliability, which was good. She had no taste for volatile charmers.
Events began to blur. Music filling the church, bouquets of winter flowers, and then gripping Hawkins’s arm while Rory walked gracefully down the aisle carrying a nosegay of golden daffodils that matched her hair.
Suzanne’s heart caught as she saw Simon waiting for her at the altar, with Will Masterson at his side. Simon wore his scarlet army uniform and was so dazzlingly handsome her knees felt weak. How had she gotten so lucky as to be this man’s chosen bride? There was no answer, but then he smiled warmly at her and that was enough.
It was time for her to walk down the aisle with Hawkins, unsteady but no longer unsure. Looking on were her friends fro
m the boardinghouse, the friends she’d made with Simon, the Merciers, and a scattering of other friends of Simon. So much goodwill.
The gray-haired vicar greeted them all in his sonorous voice and the ceremony began. As Suzanne listened and made her responses, she realized she’d never attended a wedding in the English language. The words from the Book of Common Prayer were lovely, and the vows solemn and a little fearsome.
Though the words “with my body I thee worship” were bitterly inappropriate, the arrangement they made suited them both. She and Simon would learn how to be happy together.
And then they were married and the rest of their life began.
* * *
The Kirklands knew how to host a fine wedding celebration and there was an abundance of good food and friends and toasts to the newlyweds’ health and happiness. Nonetheless, Simon was happy to finally be home with his new bride, fulfilling her domestic dream of a quiet evening together.
The sitting room between their bedrooms was small and cozy with warmth, and the previous week he’d bought a pair of very comfortable wing chairs to place on each side of the fireplace. They’d both changed into relaxing garments when they’d returned home. He’d packed his uniform away, not sure if he’d ever wear it again since soon he’d be officially out of the army.
Looking forward to this peaceful evening, he’d changed into loose trousers and shirt and a warm navy blue banyan. Suzanne wore a soft gray wool robe and looked thoroughly enchanting even though there wasn’t a square inch of her visible below the neck. She had curled up in her wing chair and was pulling pins from her hair as she gazed idly at the flickering fire.
Knowing that she liked red wine, Simon poured two glasses of a particularly fine claret and set them on the table between their chairs. “All we need now are the cat and the dog, and that lack will be remedied soon.”
He settled into his chair and sipped his wine, content to gaze at his bride. From what he’d observed, first marriages burned with hope and passion and eagerness for a shared future. But this would be different even though it was a first marriage for him.
Once a Spy Page 6