He narrowed his eyes at her, an expression in them that made her shiver with anticipation. "Indeed, madam? Well just you remember those words on our wedding night."
She felt the flush rise up over her neck and suffuse her cheeks as her fiancé gave a satisfied chuckle, content that his remark had hit home.
They walked a little farther in companionable silence until Georgiana was brave enough to ask for the information she'd been hoping he'd volunteer.
"Have you had news about Beau?" she asked, knowing it was a sore subject but not wanting it to be something they couldn't discuss.
She saw his face darken. "I had a letter from Alperton, this morning," he admitted. "The fever's broken. He'll be weak for a while but ... he's going to recover."
"Oh thank God," she whispered, closing her eyes as the relief hit her.
Sebastian looked down at her, his eyes troubled. "You care about him." It wasn't a question and Georgiana rolled his eyes at him.
"Of course I do, as do you!" She squeezed his arm and sighed. "He's my friend and I know what he did was despicable and I'm still furious with him for it but ... Oh, Sebastian, he's so very alone and in a deal of trouble."
She could feel the tension singing through his body, the arm she held taut beneath her fingers.
"I tried to help him, but he was too damn proud to take it. No, he must go and steal the woman I love instead!"
Georgiana sighed, knowing it was useless. "I know," she said. "But I can't help but feel sorry for him, and for you. You'll miss him."
Sebastian made no reply and they continued their walk in silence.
***
Despite Georgiana's protestations the five days did pass, though slowly. The morning of the wedding was bright and sunny, a perfect early summer's day.
Céleste, looking quite stunning in a peach blossom, satin dress with cypress gauze, wiped at her eyes and waved her lace handkerchief in agitation.
"Mon Dieu!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Oh you look so very beautiful, Georgiana, but I wish that you did not for now I'm going to cry and I shall look perfectly dreadful for the wedding."
Georgiana laughed and held out her hands to Céleste who ran up to claim them, lovely blue eyes sparkling with tears.
"Oh, dearest, Georgie," she said, holding one hand to her cheek. "I am so very 'appy for you."
Georgiana beamed, but the lump in her throat seemed too heavy to speak around so she just nodded and laughed and prayed she wouldn't cry herself.
Madam Lisabeth's design was, in its creators own words, a masterpiece. The body of the gown was a white satin slip, ornamented at the hem with a flounce of broad lace and surmounted by satin lilies. The stalks of the lilies were contrived in silk cord and disposed in waves around the border. Georgiana smiled as she took in the intricate details and smoothed down the gown of spotted British net that overlaid the satin in an open train that met just below her bust and fell in a gentle curve to the ground.
A delicate wreath of roses and lilies trimmed the slip and one perfect white lily was pinned in her hair against an elegant background of fern leaves. It looked pristine and delightful against her shining red hair. As ever she had left one long ringlet to trail over her shoulder and if she was well pleased with the effect, she was only echoing the thoughts of her abigail and her dearest friend.
A slightly harassed demand, as it was by far from the first time of asking, came from the landing as Lord Falmouth enquired, "Are you ready now?"
"Oui!" Céleste called, and ran to the door, hurrying through it to her husband. "Oh, Alex! Just wait until you see 'er, I fear you shan't look at me again all day."
"Never, mignonne," his Lordship replied with more obvious honesty than gallantry.
Feeling suddenly a little shy and overwhelmed, Georgiana left the room and was gratified by the look of appreciation in Lord Falmouth's usually cool grey eyes.
"Well indeed," he said, smiling at her. "Céleste has the right of it as ever. Georgiana, you do look a picture."
"Thank you, my Lord," she said, grinning at him.
"Oh, and just think, in such a short while, she'll be a duchess!"
"Not at this rate she won't!" Falmouth exclaimed with a snort. "Now will you hurry, or Sindalton will think he's been jilted, and much as that might amuse me, it won't him."
"Oh do stop fretting, Alex," Céleste said, taking her husband's arm and allowing him to escort her down the sweeping staircase of his home. "And you know you said you'd quite forgiven 'im and that 'e was really a decent fellow."
"I'm sure I couldn't have said any such thing," Falmouth said, winking at Georgiana over Céleste's head.
"You did and you know it," Céleste insisted, taping his arm with her fan in a scolding manner.
"I must have been foxed," the earl said mildly, and escorted the ladies to his carriage.
***
Sindalton frowned as Lord Nibley enquired if he had remembered everything necessary for the smooth running of the wedding.
"Well, I'm here," he replied with a grin, believing that everything was well in hand for the wedding breakfast, which Lord Falmouth had graciously undertaken to give at his home. Sebastian's mother was still not in her right mind and confined to her own wing of the house. The idea of holding the wedding breakfast under her nose, even if she was unaware of it, had made both him and Georgiana acutely uncomfortable and put them in a quandary. Alex had settled the matter, however, in his usual high-handed way. The wedding breakfast would be held by Lord and Lady Falmouth and no argument would be heard.
"What about the ring?" Percy asked. His friend's eyes rolled as Sebastian felt a jolt of panic and banged on the carriage roof.
"Halt!" he yelled. "Dammit, Percy, you couldn't have remembered that before we left the house?"
Leaping down from the carriage he sprinted back the short distance to his home on Grosvenor square, earning himself the disapprobation of some stern looking dowagers in passing.
He took the stairs to his front door two at a time and hurtled through, grinding to a halt at he found a white-faced Beau standing in the entrance hall speaking with his butler. Biddle, aware that his services were suddenly not required, made a tactical withdrawal.
The two men stared at each other in mute shock and Sebastian had to bite back an exclamation of surprise at the sight of his former friend. Beau looked drawn and pale, his usually angelic countenance grey and his eyes heavy. He'd clearly lost a great deal of weight, one arm held securely against his chest with a sling. Sebastian couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow at seeing him so unlike himself.
"I-I thought you'd gone," Beau said, looking awkward. "I would never have come otherwise."
"Forgot the ring," Sebastian said, his sorrow deepening as he knew that Beau would never have let him do such a thing if he'd been here.
Beau gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "Why doesn't that surprise me." The two men stood together, both only too aware that the closeness of their friendship was dead and gone. "I just came to bring you this. A wedding present," he said with an uneasy smile. "I leave tomorrow but ... well I thought perhaps Georgiana might like it."
He handed over a small parcel and Sebastian took it from him. He untied the string and opened the brown paper to reveal a painting. It was a delicate landscape painting, beautifully executed by a master painter. An idyllic scene of a thatched cottage in the autumn, and a family going about their day in the countryside.
"This was your mother's," Sebastian said, looking up in shock. He had seen it hanging in the study of Beau's town house. It was one of the few personal items of hers that he possessed. "We can't possibly take this," he said, feeling out of his depth. He knew Beau was trying to apologise yet he wasn't ready to forgive him, but ... he didn't want to reject such an obvious show of remorse out of hand, nor yet take something of such huge personal value.
Beau shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Well I can't take everything with me and I expect the bailiffs will clear the place out once I
'm gone." Sebastian heard the familiar nonchalant tone but he didn't for a moment believe it. The painting was small enough to be easily packed. "I'd rather you had it," Beau said, pleading in his eyes.
Sebastian stared back at him and didn't know what to say. The anger at what Beau had done was still too raw, too fresh, but this was one of the only items he knew meant anything to his friend, and he knew what it meant to him to give it up.
"You're going to France then?"
Beau nodded. "At least the weather is better there than Scotland, and if it's good enough for Brummel," he quipped, trying to make light of it, but Sebastian could tell his heart wasn't in it. "Anyway, I leave in the morning. Assuming I make it to the boat in one piece," he added with a lopsided grin. "Maybe you'll get lucky and someone will finish the job."
Sebastian felt his throat tighten. "Don't," he said, too confused to know what it was he wanted to say, but knowing he couldn't leave things like this. "I don't want you dead," he said, hearing his voice so harsh and gruff it was as though he didn't mean any such thing.
Beau smiled at him, but there was such pain in his eyes Sebastian had to look away. "I know that, Sin. To be honest I wish you did. It would be easier, but then ... well, you always were so much more honourable than me."
Sebastian didn't stop him as he headed for the door, but Beau paused on the threshold. He didn't turn around but Sebastian didn't need to see his face to see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Sebastian. Truly. I know you'll never forgive me and ... Well of course I understand that. But I wish you every happiness. You're a very lucky man."
Sebastian didn't stop him as he left, though there was a part of him that wished he had. He took a deep breath and put the painting away in his office with care, before rushing up to his room and getting the ring which he'd left on the mantelpiece in his haste to get to Hanover Square in time. By the time he got back downstairs the carriage was waiting for him once more and he got in, yelling at the driver to make haste.
"Was that Beau I just saw?" Nibley demanded as Sebastian settled himself against the squabs once more.
He nodded and passed the small ring box to Percy to keep safe until it was required.
"Did you speak to him?"
"Yes," Sebastian replied, hoping Percy would leave it at that. He'd not known who to ask to accompany him this morning. The idea that Beau wasn't invited to his wedding seemed impossible. He'd thought Percy would refuse too, as it was hardly appropriate as he'd offered for Georgiana as well. But Percy had seemed genuinely pleased to be asked and Sebastian had been grateful for it. He tried to put the unhappy face of his friend far from his mind. There was no use dwelling on it. Beau had made his own bed.
Georgiana loved him, not Beau. That he knew with no question or doubt in his mind and the thought eased away the tension that had made his shoulders tight as the carriage drew up outside the grand portico of the St George's church in Hanover Square. The church's tower stood proud against an azure summer sky as they walked into the cool gloom cast by the six massive Corinthian columns and made their way inside. It was a rather plain, if impressive structure with a wide nave, and gave the impression of light and space. With relief Sebastian noted that they had made good time and took a moment to gather himself before the day he had been waiting for with such anticipation began in earnest.
He smiled and greeted Georgiana's aunt and uncle, who looked rather daunted at first meeting him. They had been unable to come before the wedding as a sudden outbreak of scarlet fever had kept the good doctor with his hands full until that very morning. Happily they soon relaxed as Sebastian took pains to make clear that he really wasn't as high in the instep as Georgiana had teased him about being.
For the fiftieth time Sebastian reached for his watch chain to check the time just as Percy elbowed him in the side. Doctor Bomford had slipped discreetly away to meet his niece and now Lord and Lady Falmouth entered the church. Céleste looked ravishing in a pale peach colour which set off her golden hair beautifully, and Falmouth, looking unbearably smug, gave Sebastian a wink of encouragement.
And then there she was. Sebastian caught his breath and held it as she made her way down the aisle on her uncle's arm. Doctor Bomford looked proud enough to burst something and Sebastian was quite taken aback by the force of emotion that came over him at seeing his lovely bride make her way to the altar.
Her glorious red hair shone copper and gold in the sun light and was no less dazzling than her smile and the light in her eyes. She carried a simple bouquet of three white lilies surrounded by fern leaves and if she was in any way as nervous as Sebastian suddenly felt, the bouquet hid any noticeable trembling of her hands. The exquisite dress she wore clung to her curvaceous frame in such a way that he wanted nothing more than to dispense with the ceremony and the blasted wedding breakfast with all haste and get his bride alone so that he could divest her of it in short measure.
At least some of his impatience must have been visible in his eyes as his irrepressible bride chuckled in a very unmaidenly fashion and had the temerity to wink at him.
Sebastian snorted and promised himself the delight of extracting retribution in the very near future as the ceremony began and everyone fell quiet.
Chapter 36
"Wherein .... a wedding! And a loving retribution is joyfully given."
The wedding breakfast was an intimate affair with just Georgiana's aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Falmouth and Lord Nibley and his sister, Florence. The audacious Conrad was also in attendance with his partner in crime, Bandit. The two irredeemable rogues surveyed the floor and cast hopeful gazes upon the assembled company. Unshakeable in their belief that someone would give them one of the scotch eggs which they were well aware were somewhere among the lavish spread supplied by Fortnum and Mason's, they continued to wag eager tails. Sebastian had, however, been adamant that Conrad would not be going with them on honeymoon to Paris, despite Georgiana's protestations that he would pine for her. On applying to Lord Falmouth to ask if he would keep him for the duration, so that at least his dearest companion Bandit might be close at hand to keep him company, Lord Falmouth had simply replied, "Good God, no!"
So Conrad would return to Cornwall with Aunt Jane and Uncle Jo, where Georgiana was assured he would be walked daily and allowed to chase rabbits to his heart's content.
If Georgiana felt that her new husband's pleasure in the day was lessened by the absence of his best friend, it was a thought she kept to herself, though she resolved to do everything in her power to remedy the rift as soon as she was able.
The wedding breakfast finally came to an end after much toasting and the congratulations of their nearest and dearest. A tearful farewell was indulged in by the ladies and Aunt Jane was obliged to cling hard to her husband's arm while that heartless individual laughed, though not unkindly and implored her not to be such a silly goose. Georgiana just smiled and decided it would be churlish to point out that she'd noticed Uncle Joseph surreptitiously wiping his eyes just moments earlier.
The journey to Claridge's was ridiculously short and Georgiana teased her new husband for being too terribly proud and top-lofty to walk the short distance from Grosvenor Square to Brook Street.
Sebastian just snorted and told her to mind her manners for retribution was due, before kissing her with a ruthlessness that left her still flustered and red-cheeked as she entered the hotel.
If the staff thought it odd that his grace would spend his wedding night a few doors down from his own home, they gave no cause for either of them to suspect it. For her part Georgiana was delighted with the sumptuous hotel, and more than relieved not to be entering the domain of the dowager duchess of Sindalton, the mere idea of which had put her in a quake. Sebastian had quickly laid to rest her fears admitting that he felt entirely the same way. So a night at Claridge's had been decided upon before setting off on honeymoon to Paris and then down through France and on to Italy. Lord Falmouth had insisted that they stop off at h
is brother's home close to Bordeaux as he was sure Georgiana and his sister-in-law, Henri, would hit it off wonderfully well. Céleste had agreed with this only adding with a mischievous grin that Sebastian would also like Lawrence far better than he did Alex.
Finally alone with her new husband in a large and elegant bedroom which held the slightly daunting focus of a huge double bed, Georgiana found herself unaccountably nervous. Especially as there was a challenging light in his eyes which she knew she had put there with her teasing over the past days. Refusing to look too much the blushing bride, she put up her chin and met his gaze head on.
"It's been such a lovely day, Sebastian, and thank you so much for being so kind to my aunt and uncle. They adored you of course."
"Of course," he said with a smirk, divesting himself with some difficulty of his skin tight coat.
"Here, let me help you." Georgiana helped him ease the exquisitely tailored article over his broad shoulders without creasing the art of the peerless Mr Weston too severely. "Oh, dear, your valet would have kittens to see me doing this, wouldn't he?"
"Oh good heavens don't," Sebastian said, snorting with amusement. "He'll be sulking for weeks as it is for being given the evening off. I'll no doubt be told apocryphal tales about half a dozen young bloods who would merrily stab me in the back just to get their hands on him as revenge."
"Well it was your idea to get rid of all the servants until tomorrow. Most improper according to Aunt Jane, though you won Céleste's approval at any rate," Georgiana said chuckling, though she was aware it was a rather nervous sound as Sebastian's hands went to his waistcoat buttons. She swallowed, watching the progress of those strong fingers as they made their way down the extravagantly embroidered silk of this impressive garment. Sebastian cast it with negligent care onto the floor and stepped closer to his bride with a decidedly feral grin.
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