Next were the carefully censored instructions for Grandmama. She must have the note for the duke, of course, but she must also be persuaded to return to Dunsmere at first light without knowing his reasons for the request. He would send a messenger ahead to Dunsmere this afternoon carrying instructions for her enlightenment upon her arrival. Meanwhile, he daren’t risk news of his plans to reach the ears of Society.
Last on the list was proper wedding attire. Ginny must have her wedding gown-on that he was positively determined. He would be just as happy to marry her in the gray linsey gown with the stretched-out hem as anything else, but he suspected that Ginny had dreamed of her wedding day since she was a young girl, and gray linsey-woolsey gowns had no part in it. Once Conti had returned from his current task, he would send him off to Hertfordshire to run Madame Badeau to ground and procure the dress.
This left only his own clothing to acquire. The bespeaking of a new suit of cerulean-blue silk, very fine, a new shirt, and several neck cloths all bearing a bit more lace than Mr. Brummel would have approved, had been his first task upon arriving in London less than a week prior. It would be the work of a moment to stop at his tailor’s to fetch them and purchase a new hat, as well.
There was a time when the thought of entering a haberdashery or any public place in all his dirt would have brought him to his knees. No longer. In truth, his pride in his wardrobe that once he valued above all things had fallen a notch or two in his esteem.
By the time he had returned the carriage, caught a hackney to his tailor’s, headed for home, then turned around in order to procure a special license, then to finally arrive at his rooms on Jermyn Street, Conti had returned with news of the balloon.
“All ees well! I have arranged for the balloon to be brought to Regent’s Park and inflated early een the morning. It shall be tethered and waiting when we arrive”
“Very good. Now, I’m afraid I have bad news for you, my man. I shall need you to rescue a princess from a tower,” Anthony said wryly.
“Theese is the work of a moment!” Conti proclaimed with a snap of his fingers.
“Not when the princess is interred in Hertfordshire, I’m afraid. In fact, I don’t expect to see you again until the wee hours of the morning.”
Conti pursed his lips and eyed his master narrowly. “Will you be going out again tonight?”
“Why, yes, I find that I must,” Anthony replied with some surprise.
“Then I shall draw you a bath before I depart, though I am afraid I cannot linger to tie you a proper cravat,” Conti said with a sigh.
“I expect that pile of neck cloths you’ve already ironed and I will deal famously together.”
Conti merely sniffed and quit the room in search of hot water.
While waiting for his bath, Anthony scratched one word on a piece of paper and readied it for evening, when he would bring it around to Grandmama himself. He did not relish attempting to explain to her why it was so important that she arise at the crack of dawn and hasten to Dunsmere for no reason that he could explain. In the end, he found he was quite right.
“But, Anthony, we are here in London to arrange your wedding! Why would I wish to leave now?” Grandmama queried.
“I wish I could say, but I’m afraid I cannot. However, I can say that if you follow my instructions to the letter, you shall be satisfied with the outcome”
“‘Instructions’? `Outcome’?” Grandmama cried, her face turning an alarming shade of puce. “I am persuaded you have forgotten to whom you are speaking, my boy!”
“Not at all!” Anthony insisted. “You are not one who is easily forgotten. What’s more, you shall be given your full due before the week is out. Now, do be a dear, and be sure to hang on to this letter until you get to Dunsmere. Do not let it out of your sight.”
“But it is addressed to your uncle,” she spluttered. “Why should I take it with me when you might deliver it into his hands this very night?”
“All shall be revealed in time. Once arrived, you will find a letter that will explain everything.”
“So, I am not to know what any of this is about until I arrive at Dunsmere?”
“Exactly.”
“Then I suppose the sooner I ready myself for departure, the better,” she said, rising to her feet. “Now, off with you before I change my mind, you blackguard!”
“Good night, then. And I expect that when we meet again, it shall be in happier circumstances.” He strode toward the door and paused. “I almost forgot! Have Ginny’s trousseau packed up, and take it with you. And, Grandmama?”
“What is it now?” she asked with an injured air.
“You do know how very fond I am of you, do you not?”
“‘Fond’? Of an old termagant such as myself?” she demanded. Before he could formulate a reply, she had thrust herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest. “I am such an old fool!”
Anthony merely held her tightly and waited.
“If I had not married your grandfather, I would have been a much happier woman. I was young and dazzled by his property and title, but it was never enough to please me. It is only now, when I see how you look at her, that I know what it is I have gone without.”
“Come now, dearest,” he said around the lump that had risen in his throat. “If you hadn’t married my grandfather, you would not have me!”
“It’s true,” she said, hastily wiping away a tear. “And neither would my darling Ginerva. But she will soon be leaving me, and I do not know how I shall bear it.”
“You won’t have to. Once we are married, you shall come and live with us, dearest. I’m persuaded Ginny would love it above all things.”
“Pshaw! To have an old lady always underfoot, telling you which way is up and which is down? I think not. Just promise me you will allow me to stay with you from time to time and that you will never, ever do anything to hurt her.”
“I fear that pain is an inescapable part of love, Grandmama,” he said, wishing his own heart wasn’t feeling quite so bruised. “But I shall endeavor to ensure that every day of her life is a happy one”
She sighed. “With that I shall be most content.”
As he had never in his life known Grandmama to be the least content, Anthony left her feeling as if he might, with a mere thought, conquer the world. His heart was lighter than it had been since that day he spied Lady Derby outside his uncle’s house. Though it had seemed at the time that she was there to find a new husband in the future Duke of Marcross, it was now as clear as crystal that her target had most likely been the current duke all along. Perhaps, one day, there would be a new heir to the duchy.
It was a most welcome thought, indeed.
tinny was alarmed by Grandaunt’s request that she pack all they had purchased for her wedding trousseau and lay it carefully away in silver tissue for the present time.
“Has the wedding been delayed?” Ginny asked, though, truth be told, an actual date had not been discussed as of yet.
“No, I think not,” Grandaunt brusquely replied. “I would simply prefer to have your new things gathered in your trunk and taken to the, er, attic, where it will be safe from housebreakers”
“Housebreakers?” Ginny asked, exchanging a puzzled look with Nan, who was to help her with the packing. “Has there been news of such here in Grosvenor Square?” Ginny asked, but Grandaunt had already bustled off to her own chamber.
With a heavy heart, Ginny proceeded to wrap up her cherished belongings, which Nan loaded into the trunk while keeping up a stream of cheerful chatter.
“Oh, how I do love these stockings! I will never forget the wool ones we endured the endless itch of in the vicarage days”
Ginny slid them from Nan’s grasp and ran her fingers over the silver-shot silk. “They were for my wedding day. But here!” she insisted, thrusting them at Nan. “You have them. I fear I shall never need them now.”
“Why, miss! How can you say so?” Nan asked, aghast. “Lord Crenshaw loves you, he
does, and he is going to marry you-see if he don’t!”
“Yes, he does,” Ginny sadly replied. “Nevertheless, it has been days, and he still has not sent notice of our engagement to the papers. His uncle hates me and will do anything to thwart us. And then there is Lady Derby. How she would relish seeing me out of the way!”
“Maybe she would! Who wouldn’t, if it meant making the path clear to Lord Crenshaw? But he would never marry her, nohow, even if you had never been born!”
“He thought he loved her once,” Ginny said with a sigh. “Of course, there is also the matter of his having been here in this house, this very evening. He never even asked to see me. I can’t account for any reason that would be so unless he were done with me. Now this,” she said, indicating the trunk that was to go with her on her wedding journey.
Nan fingered the tiny rosebuds attached to a particularly fetching muslin bonnet. Ginny was to wear it on her wedding day, as well. All it wanted was a length of veiling to be attached to the inside, a task Ginny had insisted on doing herself. Now it looked as if it might be of no consequence whatsoever.
She looked up from the bonnet to see that Nan was weeping and trying mightily to hide it. “Oh, dearest Nan,” Ginny said, “what would I do without you? Here,” she said, handing Nan the bonnet. “Would you be a dear and sew in the veil while I finish up here?” Perhaps the task would give Nan as much hope as it gave Ginny to think of the bonnet complete and perfect for her wedding day.
“Yes, miss! I will do a bang-up job of it, too! See if I don’t!” Nan said fiercely, whereupon she retired to the sewing room to do as she was bid.
Ginny completed the packing and informed Garner that the trunk was ready to be taken to the attic as instructed. When she returned upstairs and walked past her grandaunt’s bedchamber, she heard the sounds of drawers being opened and closed as her grandaunt paced back and forth. Wondering what it was she could be looking for, Ginny returned to her own room.
She was exhausted and longed for her bed, but there was still the matter of the trunk to be fetched from her room. While she waited for the boot boy to come and take it away, she picked up a book she had purchased at Hatchard’s during her shopping trip the day prior. The novel was called Pamela, or, Virtue Rewarded by a Mr. Samuel Richardson and was set, of all places, in Bedfordshire, home to her beloved Dunsmere, where she hoped to marry Anthony in the rose garden come June.
She owned that she had much sympathy for Pamela. She was a young girl of no means and a family of no social standing who was in love with a man above her station. As Ginny read, she shuddered when it seemed as if Pamela was to be married off to an utter stranger and thought it strangely exciting when she was kidnapped and whisked away to a tower by the hero of the novel. Once Ginny’s trunk had finally been removed with the newly completed bonnet safely inside, she had Nan help her out of her gown, whereupon she put on her nightgown and went to sleep with visions of rescue swimming in her head.
Ginny awoke early the next morning to the sounds of a carriage being loaded with luggage. She hopped out of bed and ran to the window that overlooked the mews at the back of the house. It was difficult to see clearly, as the sun hadn’t fully risen, but Ginny was certain it was Grandaunt’s traveling barouche that was being readied for departure. Wherever could she be going so early in the morning and at such short notice? And what of the wedding? Had Anthony changed his mind? Was he to marry Lady Derby instead?
Throwing on her dressing gown, she flew down the hall to her grandaunt’s room and pounded on the door. “Grandaunt Regina!” she cried. “Please open the door, please! Won’t somebody tell me what’s happening?”
“Yes, miss, I shall be happy to be of service,” Garner said, looking more cheerful than anyone had a right to be and holding out a silver salver with a note. Quickly she snatched it and tore open the seal. The Crenshaw seal. Anthony’s seal.
My Beloved,
Never fear, all shall be well. Put on your gayest gown and that fetching bonnet you sported yesterday, and be at Regent’s Park by ten of the clock. Nan and Garner shall accompany you.
It was as if night had broken into full day in the space of a moment. “Nan!” she cried as she ran back to her room. “Nan, fetch me my primrose-yellow sprigged muslin with the springgreen sashing! Oh, and do be sure to check that my half boots are clean and, if not, fetch me the saffron dancing slippers. On second thought, forget the boots entirely. I shall make do very well with the slippers. And where is that bonnet I wore yesterday?” she asked, tearing one thing after the other from the clothespress and tossing them away with abandon. “He asked for it most particularly!”
“‘He’ who?” Nan asked as she followed along behind her mistress, rescuing orphaned slippers, chip straw bonnets, and yards of satin sashing from the floor.
“He who, that’s who! Oh, Nan!” Ginny cried, forcing a pile of muslin gowns into Nan’s already full arms. “You don’t know! You are to come along, so we must hurry if we are to get both of us turned out as fine as a new penny before it is time to leave. First we must have breakfast, though I must own, I’m not the least bit hungry. Then we must curl our hair, and it shall be left to you to iron the gowns, as I daresay Grandaunt’s abigail has gone off in the barouche, but it’s not of the least consequence, as she has a tendency to scorch things, a fact about which Grandaunt hasn’t the least idea, as she never wears anything but that abysmal black!” she said without so much for pausing for air. “Then, as long as we can find where I tossed my bonnet yesterday, we shall be ready!”
“Yes, miss, but where is it we are going?” Nan asked, her eyes wide.
“Oh, naturally, you would have no way of knowing! It’s all here in this note,” Ginny said, thrusting the paper at Nan to read.
“But this doesn’t say where,” Nan complained.
“Do pardon me, Nan. I am all at sixes and sevens, it seems!”
Taking Ginny by the shoulders, Nan steered her toward the bed and sat her down. “Now, tell me, where are we going?”
Ginny folded her hands primly in her lap and tried to contain her excitement. “I believe we are going to a wedding.”
“A weddin’?” Nan said with a frown. “Whose weddin’?”
“Mine, you silly goose,” Ginny said, rising from the bed and beginning to dance about the room. “Don’t you see? It all fits! My gown is gone, so he has asked me to wear my best, though truly my white satin ball gown is much finer. Still, I shan’t wear it, for it is much too warm. Grandaunt is also gone. Doubtless she is in on the surprise and has headed off to where the wedding shall take place. She ordered that my trousseau be packed up-an odd request under the circumstances, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I do”
“And he has sent me a note to ensure I will arrive in plenty of time, when he was so against me even being the least aware of the boxing match or the carriage race!”
“But, if it’s to be your weddin’, why wouldn’t he want you there on time?”
“Because, silly, it’s not a wedding! It’s a balloon ascension!”
“I see,” Nan said, looking as puzzled as ever. “I shall just go and see if I have anything suitable for a balloon ascension turned weddin’ in my clothespress, then,” she added and departed.
When they arrived at Regent’s Park, carefully dressed, coiffed, hatted, sashed, and shod, they were taken aback by the sight of an enormous hot-air balloon made of gaily colored silks and encased in netted roping, which was in turn attached to a large basket painted blue and gold. If it were possible, the crowd gathered today was larger than for the race. Carriages of every description reached as far as the eye could see, and there were throngs of people of all walks of life sitting and standing on every available surface. Some had even made themselves comfortable in trees, including one lady of dubious reputation whose fast gown and forward ways caused Ginny to blush.
“Here we are, miss. According to my instructions, you are to alight from the carriage, and I s
hall assist you in making your way to the balloon,” Garner said.
“I see I am to have the best of accommodations,” Ginny quipped, sinking into a gilt chair on the lawn near the base of the balloon. What the rest of the day held in store, she didn’t see at all, but she had to own that it was all very exciting.
She hadn’t long to wait before the masses parted and the most beloved face she had ever known emerged from the crowd. He was wearing her favorite outfit, a dark blue coat over buff pantaloons and just a bit of lace at the throat and wrists. No matter how staid men’s fashions became, she fervently hoped lace would not altogether fade from a gentleman’s wardrobe.
He greeted Nan and Garner and, taking Ginny by the hand, raised her to a standing position. Together they walked, arm in arm, until they stood with the balloon at their backs and faced the crowd. Cheers rent the air, but the moment he placed his foot on the wooden steps that led to the balloon’s interior, an impossible hush fell like a blanket over the crowd.
“One and all, I thank you for being here today! I would also thank you to hold your cheering until I have completed my speech, at which time you might shout until you are hoarse!”
As his words were met by a hearty roar, Ginny rather doubted that Anthony would have much success in keeping order. However, whistles and other injunctions to hush followed, and presently it was quiet enough for him to proceed.
“I am Lord Crenshaw, and this maiden by my side is my affianced bride!”
Miss Delacourt Has Her Day Page 17