"This looks perfect," young Susan said, holding up a scrap of black silk.
"Thank you, dear." She held still as her sister tied it around the upper part of her arm.
"This will really set the tabbies hissing and spitting," Rebecca said with some glee. "Just think. An earl. And you never even had a Season in the Marriage Mart."
"Well, I didn't go out of my way to catch him, so you needn't sound as though I were some vile schemer--"
"No, of course not, but it will certainly put the noses out of joint of the women who are."
Just then there was a tap at the door. Her sisters looked around hurriedly, trying to find something to cover her with so the groom would not see the bride.
"Superstitious nonsense," Isolde said, waving them away."
"Fear not, Madame, it is only I, Hopkins, bearing some refreshments," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
All four women relaxed.
"Oh, ah, thank you. Come in, please."
Once again she could see she had surprised the dedicated older servant, when he entered and stared.
"You look magnificent, Miss, if I may say so."
She smiled. "Thank you, Hopkins, you may say so indeed."
"And may I offer cogratulations on the part of all the staff. We hope you will be very happy."
"Thank you, that's very kind." She wished she had some ready cash to offer him, but had the feeling she would actually offend him by doing so.
"And Master says not to worry about the order of service, he's asked Mr. Deveril to keep to tradition."
"Oh, er, thank you. I never even thought," she said with a blush.
Once he had departed, they sipped the tea and had a mouthful of toast, Isolde leaning over the table well away from her gown to make sure she didn'r ruin it.
"Nervous?" her mother asked softly.
"A bit, but only because I'm afraid something will go wrong, I'll make a fool of myself, or--"
"Or he might change his mind after all," her mother guessed astutely.
Isolde shrugged one shoulder. "Well, our father's were rivals. What better way to get revenge than humiliate us all."
Her mother shook her head. "He doesn't strike me as that kind of man at all."
"And there are the Clarences to worry about as well. I know Stephen is dying to marry Fanny to be sure of her. Then there is Chauncey--"
"With all of your family supporting you, and Randall's set of very respectable friends, what harm can he do?"
"Well, show us up, call me a few vile names for starters."
Her mother stroked back a stray curl from her cheek. "Let him try. It will be his word against yours, and you would not be the first woman in the world to have an eight month child, nor the last."
"Oh, no, that's not possible," she said with a shake of her head.
"In which case, let him do his worst. Randall is more than a match for the likes of him."
Isolde bit her lip. "And then there's the ceremony. I mean, we've had no rehearsals or-"
"It is a simple enough ceremony, and the vicar has arranged for your sisters to help as bridesmaids, and me as matron of honor. I promise you, it will all be fine, so long as you really do want to marry him.
Isolde nodded, and smiled. "I do. I know I'm dithering at the minute, but I really do."
"Then let's be getting on with it," her mother said in her heartiest tone, and began to shoo the younger girls from the room.
Isolde took one last look around the charming blue and gold room. The next time she entered it would be as Mrs. Randall Avenel, Lady Hazelmere. But that was not what impressed her. The truth was, she could hardly wait to be the bride of such a magnificent man.
Chapter Sixteen
Randall was waiting for them in his mother's chamber, and was the picture of calm as he watched his future in-laws assemble, and stare at him wide-eyed in his wedding finery, which matched Isolde's ensemble so well.
Now it was his turn to stare back.
Her mother was a dignified woman with chestnut hair; he could see where Isolde got her looks from, and guessed he would be happy watching his wife grow into such a marvelously regal woman.
Her two sisters Rebecca and Susan were adorable little sprites, and he smiled warmly at them both and wished he had known Isolde when she had been so young and charming.
But of course, she was infinitely more wonderful fully grown, he reflected, recalling the way she moved under him as though every gesture were designed to enflame him.
Randall led Isolde and her mother and Stephen into the study, where the solicitors had gathered. There he made a more than generous settlement upon his wife, having her proclaimed heir to fifty percent of his estate, along with any other children they might have. He set aside the same portions as before to each of the eight children in his care, and some lesser bequests to family and friends also stood as before.
He also added two pre-nuptial clauses. Isolde stiffened as he declared his intention to do so, but he said, "The first is that if I'm ever unfaithful, Isolde may get a divorce free and clear, with a generous settlement for her lifetime which will still stand even if she were to remarry. The second is if I ever physically harm Isolde in any way, she is to have the same."
She stared. "But darling, I could lie or-"
He shook his head. "I trust you. I need you to trust me."
His solicitor Mr. Brown drew up all the papers as asked, and they both signed them. Thus far her mother had said nothing, for which Isolde was very grateful.
Now she asked to speak with her daughter alone. Isolde was surprised she had not done so before-in fact, she was taking the whole thing very calmly indeed.
She shut the door behind her to the small drawing room with some trepidation, waiting for the axe to fall.
But her mother only said, "I just want to be clear that you're not too scared about all this. I mean, you've already got over the wedding night part of it. As for the marriage, it will be very much as you make it."
Isolde expelled a relieved sigh. "I half expected you to protest that I had taken leave of my senses."
Her mother shrugged one shoulder and sighed. "This is sudden, there's no denying it. But he's had his fun, and you don't seem to be too unhappy with the way things have turned out. And why should you be? He's an earl and a very handsome and virile young man.
"But I know you, especially the fact that you have a good heart. You aren't marrying him for material reasons, and he needs you. If you aren't already in love, you soon will be. You just need to love and trust him."
She smiled at her mother. "I thought I was the one with the Second Sight."
She smiled back. "It may have skipped generations, but that doesn't mean I can't see certain things, sense them. He's been a wretched man without someone to love, someone who loves him for himself, flawed though he is. He needs you, and you need him. You are weak separated, but strong together."
"I certainly hope so, Mama," she said with a sniff. "Chauncey is bound to cause trouble just because he's so dog in the manger. Not to mention all the women in Town put out because he chose me," she added, recalling all the daggering looks and nasty tattle uttered loudly enough in the dress shop for her to hear easily.
"I confess I did not know about the children until now."
"Oh, er, yes, but they are not his, they are wards--"
"You don't need to explain," she said in clipped tones."
"Oh, but I do. He's not such a bad man as everyone says, and where is the harm in helping them instead of putting them in an orphanage."
"So long as he's satisfied it doesn't muddy the waters about the inheritance of the Earldom, who am I to complain."
"Thank you, Mama."
"No, I merely mention it because if you feel happy with that, and have no reason to doubt anything he's ever told you, then all well and good, but once you are wed, you will have to take the rough with the smooth. There will be little point in resenting them after the fact."
"So the next matter you need to decide upon is what sort of family life you're going to have."
She smoothed down the skirts of her dress, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"It's just that London is all very well and fine, but you're a country girl at heart. He keeps the children out west, at an estate he rarely visits, Did you know that?"
"Er, yes, I do know something of the matter. Why, Mama, what are you getting at?"
"It's down in Somerset. Brimley, to be precise."
Isolde's heart gave a little leap. "Brimley?!"
"Yes. Fate, destiny, call it what you will, you need to go soon and make a proper start on your married life, with the children, not just as fostered ones, but with you as their parents He needs his family, love. He's so alone now that his mother is all he has left, and she's not a well or happy woman. Losing her would be a blow, it is true, but if anything were to happen to you, he would be devastated. Put as much distance as you can between you and Howell for the time being, till this all dies down, and be happy."
She stared at her mother as her eyes came back into focus and she smiled pleasantly and asked her if she had everything for the wedding.
Her mother's strange spell was gone as suddenly as it had come, but it left Isolde shivering with fear.
Brimley. Philip and his wife Jasmine had offered them a house there when their family fortunes had taken a downturn. But if her mother said Brimley, then to Somerset they would try to go.
Randall meanwhile had spoken to Fanny Clarence's father, and the older man was inclined to allow the young people to marry so long as they could reassure him they were not acting hastily.
Stephen pointed out, "We've known each other from the cradle. We're still young, it's true, but I doubt we can be accused of undue haste."
"You're very good friends, but marriage is entirely-"
"Er, yes, but the truth is we both know a little about the nature of relations between men and women, and Fanny knows her own mind. Please, do let her wishes be taken into consideration. I know you've promised her to Chauncey Howell, but please do ask her again what she wished."
Fanny confirmed in a moment that she loved Stephen with all her heart, and so the double wedding took place in the large green and gold chamber without further ado.
While they had been busy with the solicitors, Isolde's sisters had been coached by Jonathan Deveril to help with the readings. The handsome sandy-haired greeted everyone warmly now, and had brought his charming blond wife Pamela to help celebrate the occasion.
"Delighted, my dear Randall. We couldn't be more pleased. Just wait until all the other Rakehells hear the wonderful news." He turned to Isolde now. "Many congratulations, my dear. We've heard so much about you from Philip and Jasmine, and my sister Sarah, that my wife and I feel we know you already. You do a wonderful job at the clinic by all accounts. We really do hope the two of you will be supremely happy."
He was all smiles, without the least trace of disapproval, and she relaxed. Even if the circumstances of the wedding were unusual, and she was supposed to be in mourning, no one said a word as they took their places in the large bay window.
They began the ceremony with Genesis, Chapter 1, verses 26 to 28, 'The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to till it and keep it.' Then First Corinthians, Chapter 13, Verses 1 to 13, 'If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.' Her mother read First John, Chapter 4, verses 7 to 16, 'Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God, and he who loves is born of God and knows God.'"
Isolde thought she would hesitate over her vows, but with her hand in Randall's, his deep, resonating voice as he repeated his own vows without hesitation, was enough to convince her that somehow, by a strange quirk of fate, this was meant to be.
For though she had met him less than forty-eight hours ago, she adored him. Maybe it was the simple stirrings of her loins too, but he did the most incredible things to her simply with one smile or look with his eyes. Isolde had no doubt she would pay the piper on the morrow, but for now, she would be happy.
She was deeply moved as she listened to the words from Corinthians, 'Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.'
Randall surprised her by asking to recite one final passage himself, the Song of Solomon, Chapter 8, verses 6 and 7.
"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly scorned."
He kissed her hand, and she reached up to stroke his cheek and smile.
They concluded the ceremony with a hymn, 'Love divine, all loves excelling'," and then the vicar pronounced them man and wife, and Stephen and Fanny as well.
She stared for a brief second at the gold and diamond wedding band winking on her finger, and then he took her lips in a soul-stirring kiss. Everyone began to applaud.
She accepted his mother's warm wishes, and she was touched to see him kneel by the bed and have his mother stroke his dark hair.
"Be happy, son."
"I will try to be, Mother. But the past travels everywhere with us."
"Yet you have a bright, shining future if only you will embrace it, my dear boy."
"I don't deserve it," he murmured.
She sighed. "You feel like that now, but in time, you'll see you do. Everyone does. No crime, no matter how great, carries a complete life sentence. You can find peace within, Randall."
"I'm going to try," he promised, his eyes filling with tears. What was it about Isolde that made him feel as though he could weep with joy just thinking about their life together?
Isolde came over to his side and placed her hand on the top of head in a benediction of her own. He turned slightly and buried his face in the apex of her thighs. She started, stunned at the intimacy of the contact.
He took a long, slow breath, as much to relax as to delight himself with her feminine fragrance, and she could sense the change in him instantly.
His arousal was so apparent as he looked up at her, one cheek still pressed against her mound, that she blushed and bent to raise him to his feet.
She stared at him in awe as the sexual tension between them shimmered almost palpably.
He stepped back and kissed her hand. He took her left hand in his own, and stroked the diamond and gold band on her finger. It was a gesture of unmistakable possession, and for a moment she wondered if she ought to feel frightened of his evident declaration of ownership. Yet as she gazed up at him, she knew a peace so powerful that she kissed his fingers out of sheer joy and gratitude. They were well and truly married now, and she was safe from Howell's machinations, and had saved Randall and Stephen, and poor Fanny from him too.
Randall blinked in surprise at the romantic gesture. Then his mouth swooped down upon hers, kissing her until she was breathless with desire and delight. At last he lifted his lips and said, "Come, my darling wife. I find I simply cannot wait until the wedding night."
"But what about our wedding guests?"
"In the immortal words of poor Marie Antoinette, let them eat cake. I have a different dish in mind. And can't wait to feast upon it."
Her new husband swung her up into his arms to take her to his room. Her family, realising they were making their escape, pelted them with wheat kernels and then turned the whole focus of the celebration to Fanny and Stephen, who longed to do exactly as Randall and Isolde had done, but were much too conventional, shy and inexperienced to ever dare.
Chapter Seventeen
In the privacy of Randall's blue and gold chamber, he undressed his new bride slowly, reverently, taking his time over each garment removed in order to caress each newly-exposed body part with his lips and hands.
Finally Isolde was completely naked, and he laid her on the bed and stroked his hands down her several times, loving the lush and voluptuous sweep of her skin from shoulders to thighs.
"Not fair. You're still completely dressed," she complained in a whisper as she tried to insinuate her fingers into his green silk waistcoat.
"I rather like the idea of you being this delicate naked nymph, locked in my room, kept completely bare only to service me, cater to my every whim."
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