She was, in a word, stunning.
Nick wanted her with a fierceness that all but brought him to his knees.
His reaction had little to do with the outer trappings she sported, Nick knew. True, her gown was becoming, though cut too low. Also, the Weston jewels—a suite of emeralds and diamonds—added that rich, regal air. But Nick had always thought Sarah beautiful. On the day they met. Their wedding day. Even the day she arrived travel-stained and bedraggled at Glencoltran Castle. But tonight, as she stood at the top of the staircase and calmly met his stunned gaze, he saw something in his wife he'd never noticed before, at least not to this extent.
Confidence. Strength. Security in herself and her place in the world. All of this on the eve of diving into the shark-infested waters of London Society.
Nick crossed the entry hall to stand at the foot of the staircase. One after the other, his sisters gracefully descended. "Aurora, you are beautiful. If I had one bit of sense I would lock you in a nunnery," he said before leaning down to kiss her cheek.
To Melanie, he said, "I must assign bodyguards to protect you, love."
After kissing Charlotte's cheek, he said, "I hope your Rodney knows what a treasure he is getting. Enjoy your party. If anything or any person is not to your liking, let me know and I'll see it corrected."
When Charlotte moved off, Nick turned to his wife and dipped his head in a bow. In a formal tone, he said, "Lady Weston. You are exquisite. The jewels look right on you, though they pale in comparison to your beauty."
She smiled regally. "Thank you, my lord. I—" she broke off with a gasp, then completely destroyed the regal picture she presented by clapping her hands in delight, lifting her skirts up almost to her knees, and dashing across the entry hall, squealing, "Jenny! Claire! You're here!"
Nick turned to see his wife fly into the arms of a pair of unfamiliar beauties. An entire group of visitors flowed in behind the pair, and for the next few moments, chaos reigned.
Lady Pratt and Rodney quickly separated themselves from the group, she to stand aside patting her voluminous bosom as if to ward off a fainting spell while he made a beeline toward his bride-to-be.
"Oh my," breathed Melanie, standing beside Nick. "Look at the gowns on those girls. Who are they, Nick?"
Claire. Jenny. Memory clicked. McBride. He glanced over the trio of beautiful young women who appeared to be close in age to his own sisters and didn't know whether to feel heartened or despairing. And the McBride Menaces. His trouble just doubled. "I believe the McBrides have arrived from Fort Worth just in time for your engagement ball Charlotte."
Aurora's mouth gaped. "Those girls are the McBride Menaces? The ones who set loose the mice and cats and dogs at their father's wedding?"
One of them, the youngest, Nick guessed, heard Aurora and flashed a grin their way. "That's us. But not to worry, we left our mischief years behind. The McBride Menaces are all grown up."
Then another sister added with a wry grin, "Don't feel too safe, though. Our brothers, the McBride Monsters, accompanied us on this trip."
* * *
Sarah had tears in her eyes as she watched Nick make the formal announcement of Lady Charlotte's engagement to Lord Pratt. Oh, what a lovely moment. Nick's love for his sister shone like a beacon from his eyes and dear Charlotte with tears in her eyes basked in the glow of love from the two most important men in her life.
Sarah sighed with delight and returned her attention to her duties as hostess. The evening was going splendidly. The food was wonderful, the music lovely, the crowd a crush that signified success. As the night wore on, compliments and comments about the good luck theme came to her in a steady stream, reassuring her of the success of the idea. That the majority of those kudos came from unmarried gentlemen didn't escape her notice, but Sarah received enough praise from the ladies to find it reassuring.
At one point in the evening she took the time to sneak upstairs for a short visit with Jenny and Claire. She still couldn't believe they were actually here. She hadn't expected them for at least another week. She'd tried to convince them to move into Weston House—the place had fourteen unused bedchambers on the floor above her own, Sarah had discovered—but her friends were settled in a townhouse that had come to Claire's husband Tye along with his title.
"We only arrived this morning, and the boys have already broken three vases," said Jenny with a sigh. "Be glad they are safely at home with the nanny we've hired for our time in London. Destroying their uncle's property is bad enough. I wouldn't dream of turning them loose in this place. It's a lovely home, Sarah, and you fit it so well. I'm not one bit surprised."
"Really?" She was shocked at her friend's observation. She'd never felt so out of place as she did right now. Despite the glamour of the evening, Sarah yearned for home. Seeing her dear friends again, hearing that familiar Texas twang for the first time in months, reminded her just how much she missed her life in Texas.
Claire nodded. "I know you called yourself Lady Innsbruck all those years because it helped professionally, but the title always suited you. And now that I've met your delicious Nick, I must say the man does, too."
"Claire!" Sarah protested, "What would Tye say? You are a happily married woman."
"She's married, not dead," Jenny pointed out. "Sarah, the talk is that the two of you are seeking an annulment. Lord Weston is a fine specimen of a man. Are you certain you don't want to keep him?"
"Mo-ther," Emma McBride, the eldest Menace said. Her sisters followed Melanie into the room, with Aurora bringing up the rear. "He's not a pet. You don't 'keep' a husband."
"My niece is right," Claire agreed. She gave a wicked grin, then brushed a finger across the jewels that dangled from Sarah's ears and added, "You let him 'keep' you. In grand style, I might add."
Sarah allowed the subject to drop because she couldn't say what she wanted to in front of the man's sisters. She stood and spread her arms. "Come here, you Menaces, and give me a hug."
"They're the Blessings," interjected Claire, stating an old argument with a smile. "Not Menaces."
As Emma, Maribeth, and Katrina McBride did as Sarah bade, their mother lifted a wry brow. "Can you believe she still calls them that? Despite the fact they've taken Claire's own trio of children under their wings and made them Menaces-in-training."
"We must pass the mantle to someone, Mother," Maribeth said. "And while our brothers show great promise, they're already being called the McBride Monsters. We don't want our legacy to die simply because we've grown up."
Sarah glanced from the twinkle-eyed Texans to an amused Melanie and Aurora, who watched the other girls with keen-eyed speculation. Homesickness swamped her. Heavens, she had missed these girls.
Aurora piped up. "Sarah has told us quite a bit about your families. I think we can be great friends."
Sarah couldn't help but wince a bit at that. She gazed at the five young beauties standing in front of her—Charlotte must have remained downstairs with her beloved Rodney—and imagined what sort of trouble they might attract. The possibilities were both staggering and endless. "It's like combining gunpowder with gas," she murmured. "Add one little spark and we're liable to have an explosion."
Shaking away the troublesome thoughts, she asked, "What are you girls doing upstairs?"
"Hiding." Melanie answered. "At least for the moment. I admit I enjoy a bit of masculine attention, but the gentlemen downstairs remind me of salivating dogs panting after a fresh piece of meat. I've danced my slippers off."
"Not me," Katrina McBride said glumly. "Papa won't let me dance at all. I don't know why you bothered to make me a gown, Mama. I might as well be dressed in a pinafore."
"Give him time to get accustomed to the idea, honey," Jenny advised. "The evening's young yet. You'll convince him to change his mind. I have complete faith in it."
"I hope so."
The youngest McBride daughter's downtrodden expression caused Sarah to offer a sympathetic grin before addressing the older girls. "So
you came upstairs to give your feet a rest?"
"We're giving their father and uncle and Nicholas a rest," Aurora said with rueful sigh. "If the gentlemen of the ton are salivating dogs, our brother and the two Mr. McBrides are lions guarding their pride, ready to pounce if a threat comes too close."
"As well they should," Sarah stated. "You and Melanie are not out yet and wouldn't be dancing if this event were not in your home."
"If I lived in England, I'd have made my bow by now," Emma pointed out. "So would Mari. We're old enough to have beaus."
"Not English beaus," her mother said flatly. "It's too far away from home. Besides, once the newness wore off, you wouldn't like living here. British Society is old and set in its ways, and you girls are perfect examples of the brash, freedom-loving females of whom they love to disapprove."
Sarah gasped softly. Jenny had voiced her own problem so neatly.
Jenny continued, "Living here would crush your spirits, and as difficult as those spirits are at times for your father and me, it would break my heart to see that happen."
Aurora interjected. "With all respect, Mrs. McBride, I don't believe it necessarily has to be that way. I think if a girl finds the right British gentleman, he will want her to be herself and not a copy of all the other girls out in Society. The challenge is to find that correct gentleman."
Sarah nodded. Yes. Exactly.
Melanie grinned and fluttered her fan flirtatiously. "And to do that, we must dance with as many as we can, don't you see?"
Katrina McBride turned a frown in Sarah's direction. "Maybe you should be downstairs dancing, too, Miss Sarah. Aurora tells us you and her brother won't be married much longer. I saw two men from Fort Worth downstairs. Maybe you should flirt with them and see if one won't suit."
"That's a good idea," Maribeth said. "Emma and Katie and I have long thought you should have something better than a long-distance marriage of convenience. Didn't Lord Chambers attempt to call on you for a time a few years ago?"
Sarah laughed softly. It was either that or cry. "You all have just managed to condense the troublesome questions facing me into a few short sentences."
Seven sets of eyebrows arched with curiosity. Seven posteriors found seats as the McBride and Ross women gave Sarah their devoted attention. Melanie spoke for them all. "Tell us all about it, Sarah. We'll help you decide what to do."
Sarah's rueful laugh transformed to a groan. How could she verbalize the feelings rumbling around inside her? How could she explain to these young women the agony of the choice she faced? She couldn't. No more than she could explain it to Nick. Dear, patient Nick who'd made a point of backing off like she had asked to give her the time and space she needed. She couldn't explain it to any of them because she still couldn't explain it to herself.
So she artfully dodged the question. "I love each of you dearly, but now is not the time. Lest you forget, I have hostess duties downstairs, and you, my friends, are missing a grand party."
Maribeth McBride wrinkled her nose. "You're trying to put us off."
"No, I am putting you off. Let's all go downstairs, shall we? Katie, as long as your mother doesn't object, I'll tell your father it's my ball and I want you to dance."
The young woman's face lit, and she bounced to her feet. But a tug on her skirt from Emma McBride had her sitting back down. "Y'all go on," the eldest sister said. "We'll follow in a few minutes. First, Melanie and Aurora are going to give us a bit of background on some of the gentlemen who have expressed interest in us."
"If we avoid the rakes and rogues on our own, that will give Papa and Uncle Tye less to worry about, right?" Maribeth added.
Claire eyed her nieces and said to their mother, "Jenny, your girls are up to something."
"Yes, I know," Jenny said, rising and heading for the door. "I want you to promise me you won't do anything to ruin Charlotte's night. Or your father's."
"We promise," chimed a quintet of voices.
"Does this door have a key?" Claire asked. "It might be safer to lock them in."
"Aunt Claire!" the McBride Menaces protested as Melanie and Aurora blinked in shocked surprise.
Sarah laughed. "They'll behave," she assured the McBride wives. "I trust them. Not because I don't think they're above a bit of mischief even at their age, but because they all love me and they don't want to disappoint me, right, girls?"
"That's right, Sarah."
"Oh, you're good," commented Jenny McBride as she linked her arm with Sarah's and headed for the door. "On second thought, never mind what a fine specimen of manhood your Nick is. You must return to Texas."
"That's right," Claire agreed, following them out into the hall. "Our children need you. Imagine what trouble they might get into without your calming influence. I shudder to think about it."
At that moment, Sarah heard Aurora and Katrina burst into laughter and she caught her breath. The mingled music of British and Texan laughter ripped her heart in two.
* * *
"We have a plan to make Lady Steele shake in her shoes," Aurora told her new American friends.
"The three of you are our inspiration," Melanie added. "Sarah has entertained us with tales of your more imaginative antics."
Emma winced. "We've been living down our behavior at Papa and Mama's wedding for years. You must understand. We thought she was marrying someone else when we set all those animals loose in the church."
Katie grinned. "It's our little brothers' favorite bedtime story."
Maribeth shook her head. "Please tell me your plan for this evil woman doesn't include animals. I don't think our papa would ever forgive us."
"No, no animals. This plot actually combines a trick our Aunt Gillian played on our Uncle Jake and the one you three played on someone named Willfema."
Katrina pursed her lips. "Willfema?"
"Wilhemina," Maribeth deduced. "Mrs. Wilhemina Peters. The newspaper columnist."
"Oh, the music box story," Maribeth said. The three McBride Menaces smiled in fond memory.
"That's the one. We overheard Sarah telling our brother about it, and when we decided something must be done to convince Lady Steele to leave our brother alone, it seemed the perfect solution—with a little tweak from Gillian's ghost-playing days."
Melanie gave the McBrides the details of the evening's scheme, including a quick summary of Aunt Gillian's romance with their Uncle Jake and her pretense at haunting Rowanclere Castle. "She rigged an almost invisible thread to a breadbasket, and when Jake reached for a roll, she tugged it out of reach. We're using the same concept with Lady Steele. It's an innocent prank, one that Sarah or even Charlotte would laugh off if we pulled on her tonight. Lady Steele will hate it."
"And you think she'll hate it so much that you'll scare her away?"
"No. We think she'll hate it—and us—so much that she'll decide Nicholas isn't worth fighting for any longer. We suspect he has tried to end things with her—we hope so, anyway—but the woman sticks like a burr. We're hoping this event will be enough to make her realize Nicholas will never forsake his sisters and show her how much she'd hate dealing with us for years to come. If our plan works, she'll turn her attention to some other gentleman this very night. You wait and see."
Emma McBride frowned. "I don't know. Though your plot sounds inspired, it does strike me as a bit childish. Are you certain you wish to take this approach?"
"We've tried being mature, but the woman won't take our hints. She is fiendish. You should have seen how catty she was to Gillian the day they were introduced. I can't help but think she is part of the reason Nicholas and Sarah act less than comfortable around each other these days. We may have begun our campaign against Lady Steele because we didn't want Nicholas to marry her, but now we're doing it for Sarah. We love Sarah and we think she's perfect for our brother. We cannot allow Lady Steele to ruin things. This is war."
"I love the idea," said Katrina McBride. "You have my full support. How can I help?"
The five youn
g ladies spent the next ten minutes revising their scheme to include the assistance of their new American friends. When they finally made their way downstairs, they were united in their purpose.
Sarah had promised the ton a wedding they wouldn't soon forget. The newly self-christened Ross Rascals, united with the force of the McBride Menaces, were ready to make the prewedding festivities a fitting prelude.
* * *
Sarah had expected the curious whispers and murmurs of the guests that flowed around her as the ball went along. She'd even anticipated the undercurrent of tension that had swept through the ballroom with the arrival of Lady Steele. What had caught her by surprise, however, was how much she was enjoying her role as hostess of Lady Charlotte's ball. As a wedding planner, she'd been a part of many balls and parties over the years, but never before had she been so personally involved. It made the evening special.
She was honestly having a lovely time. She'd said as much to the Susan Sheldon as they waited for her happily attentive Tom to bring them a cup of punch. She'd repeated the sentiment to Lord Kimball during a dance right before the Queen's business called the spymaster away. All in all, she thoroughly enjoyed the first half of the evening.
Now, however, she had to survive supper.
Having circulated discreetly to assist the appropriate pairing off of guests for the supper dance, Sarah paused for a quick exchange with Nick in advance of the promenade into dinner. She felt as if a million butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.
Until now the evening had gone as smooth as the promised silk Nick had finally delivered to her early last week, but this was the stickiest part of the evening, because of the attention paid to the order of precedence. Woe be to Sarah as a hostess if she mixed up a pair of dukes, giving honors to the peer of lesser rank.
On top of that concern, she'd begun to worry excessively about her menu. So much depended on how supper was received. What if these Britons didn't appreciate the subtlety of carrying her good luck theme to the supper table? With that worry momentarily uppermost in her mind, Sarah leaned toward her husband and murmured, "Do you think I went too far with the cornbread and black-eyed peas?"
The Bad Luck Wedding Night, Bad Luck Wedding series #5 (Bad Luck Abroad trilogy) Page 23