Marry in Scarlet
Page 34
“I want to propose a toast,” George continued. “To my darling Martha, who raised me from an infant and was the closest thing to a mother I ever had, loving and long-suffering and patient.” She turned a mock severe glance at Phillip and Danny, who had been allowed to attend their first grown-up dinner and were sitting in their best clothes, trying not to fidget. “Boys, you are not to ask Martha about anything I did when I was a girl.” The boys turned speculative gazes on Martha, who was simultaneously wiping her eyes and chuckling.
“To Cal, who brought me kicking and yelling—literally—into the Rutherford family and made me a lady—yes, I know, Aunt Agatha, only in the technical sense, but it was the first I knew I had a title.”
Everyone laughed.
“Cal, you have also been loving and long-suffering and even almost patient at times.”
Everyone laughed again.
“To Emm, who became part mother, part sister, beloved friend and mentor. You might not have succeeded in making me into a lady but you showed me what a true lady was.” Cal who, unfashionably, was sitting beside his wife, kissed Emm’s hand.
“To my sisters of the heart, my aunts, Lily and Rose, who were the first real friends I ever had. And to their husbands, Edward and Thomas, my brothers-in-law of the heart.”
“To Aunt Dottie, full of love and wisdom and who is the living embodiment of how to live a happy life.” Her smile took in Logan, who’d traveled to London with Aunt Dottie and was hovering behind her chair, acting as her own personal waiter.
“To Aunt Agatha, who also tried to make me into a proper lady, and whose auntly interference accidentally resulted in my happiness—but don’t do it again! Interfere, I mean.”
There was more laughter at that. Aunt Agatha frowned, then gave a tight little smile and preened a little.
“To my grandfathers of the heart, dear Lord Galbraith and Sir Humphrey.” George smiled at Edward’s grandfather and at Emm’s father, Sir Humphrey Westwood, who wasn’t really all that close—he was something of a hermit—but she couldn’t leave the poor old fellow out.
George turned to the duke’s mother. “To my new mama-in-law, who taught me . . .” She paused mischievously. The duke’s mother tensed. “. . . to look beneath the surface. And who I hope will forgive me for making her into a dowager duchess.” The duke’s mother grimaced slightly, then pasted a false smile on her face.
She would remarry quickly to be rid of the aging title “dowager,” Hart had told George earlier. Apparently it was a sure thing. Sinc had a bet on it.
George smiled at Sir Lionel and Lady Peplowe and their daughter Penny, who had Thomas’s friend, Mr. Oliver Yelland, on one side and Mr. Sinclair on the other. “And to my dear friends. What a gift friendship is. Thank you.”
“Finally I want to welcome the next generation, little Bertie, my godson, and Phillip and Danny, the two newest members of the family. And”—she gave Rose a misty smile—“to the babies yet to come.”
She raised her glass. “For most of my life I never knew what it was like to have a family—or friends, really, except for animals—and now”—her voice broke and she had to choke out the last words—“now I am rich in both family and friends—all of you who are here tonight.” Her eyes filled. “Oh, drat it. Hart?” She put out her hand, and her husband placed his handkerchief in it.
There was a scattering of laughter and a few more handkerchiefs produced to wipe eyes.
The duke rose to his feet. “To complete the toast on my wife’s behalf, when I first proposed marriage—”
“You never did, actually,” she muttered sotto voce, and he laughed and caught her hand in his.
“—I didn’t know much about families, but my beloved wife has taught me that family is created not just through marriage and by the joining of bloodlines. A family—a true family—can also be built through acceptance, trust and, most importantly, through the power of love. So, a toast: To my wife, to our friends and family, and to the power of love.”
“To my husband,” George added. “And to the power of love.”
They all raised their glasses. “To the power of love.”
* * *
* * *
The ball was going beautifully and everything was perfect. George had just popped out the back to let Finn and the puppies out. In a few minutes, her husband would come looking for her for the supper dance, a waltz. And later they had plans to meet in the library and reenact their first kiss.
She was coming back in through the servants’ entrance when a movement caught her eye. Out in the deserted kitchen courtyard, Aunt Dottie and Logan were dancing to the music from the ballroom. George watched, smiling, as they twirled together in dance steps all their own, but graceful and full of joy.
“What are you doing in here, George? Hart is looking for you for the supper dan— Oh, my goodness!” Rose broke off, staring.
“Is that Aunt Dottie and Logan?” Lily peered over Rose’s shoulder.
The music ended, and Rose and Lily gasped as Logan twirled Aunt Dottie around, one last time, then drew her close and kissed her. Aunt Dottie’s arms twined around his neck and she kissed him back, as passionate as any girl.
Her words came back to George. With the right man, my love, a woman is always in season. George understood what she meant now.
“Aunt Dottie and Logan?” Lily exclaimed again.
“Hush!” George whispered urgently. “It’s a secret. And if you tell a soul, it will ruin everything.”
“But how long has this been going on?” Rose asked.
George smiled. “Since Aunt Dottie was fifteen and Logan was eighteen.”
“That long?” Lily exclaimed. “But that’s—”
“Forever,” George said softly. “She says it will be that way for each of us too. She has—”
“One of her feelings,” they all chorused. Linking arms, the three young ladies tiptoed back to the ballroom, to where their husbands were waiting.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anne Gracie is the award-winning author of the Chance Sisters Romances, which include The Summer Bride, The Spring Bride, The Winter Bride and The Autumn Bride, and the Marriage of Convenience Romance series, including Marry in Scandal, Marry in Haste and Marry in Secret. She spent her childhood and youth on the move. The roving life taught her that humor and love are universal languages and that favorite books can take you home, wherever you are. Anne started her first novel while backpacking solo around the world, writing by hand in notebooks. Since then, her books have been translated into more than eighteen languages and include Japanese manga editions (which she thinks is very cool) and audio editions. In addition to writing, Anne promotes adult literacy, flings balls for her dog, enjoys her tangled garden and keeps bees. Visit her online at annegracie.com. You can also subscribe to her newsletter.
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