“I see. Well, I wish you luck of it, then,” the Archbishop said. “I knew your father and sadly I must agree with you that he would indeed approve of how you are going about the matter.”
And what the devil did that mean?
Edmund tried to shrug off the Archbishop’s words. Would he have been more approving if he had been told it was a love match? If Edmund had confessed to being drawn to Miss Trowley because of a visit years earlier when he had been a mere boy? Perhaps, but he was dashed if he was going to make a cake of himself by saying so! Instead he turned the conversation to other matters and the Archbishop obliged him by not bringing up the subject again.
The journey back to the Trowley household seemed uneventful. Until, that is, Rothwood stopped to refresh himself at an inn along the way. There he was informed by the ostler that the cinch on his saddle had been cut almost all the way through.
“It’s a miracle, it is, it didn’t break, m’lord.”
“Can it be repaired?”
“No, but I can find another for you straightaway.”
“Please do so. I’ll pay handsomely if you can.”
Edmund gave the man enough to ensure he would find a replacement forthwith. Meanwhile, he retired to the inn to wait and kept a sharp eye out even as he seemed to be focused entirely on the pint of ale set before him.
Someone didn’t want him to marry, which meant the sooner the ceremony occurred, the better. Once he was back in London, he’d find someone to look into the matter of both the damage to his coach and to the cinch. If someone hated him enough to wish to do him harm, he wanted to know who it was. For now, however, his priority must be the wedding.
For the rest of the ride, Rothwood watched to see if anyone seemed to be following him but saw nothing. His thoughts began to stray to the Trowley household and he realized that he was actually anticipating with some relish the exuberant greeting of the Trowley siblings upon his return. Even more, he looked forward to seeing his bride to be. What was it about her company that seemed to make him feel like a boy again? He didn’t know, he only knew he liked it very much.
When he did finally reach the Trowley household, he took Mr. Trowley aside to persuade him that the wedding ought to take place at once. Mr. Trowley was perfectly agreeable to the notion, but the same could not be said for Mrs. Trowley.
“But my dear, you want to see our dear Beatrix wed, don’t you?” Mr. Trowley asked his wife.
Mrs. Trowley looked at Edmund and answered, “Of course I do. And very pleased I am, Lord Rothwood, that she is marrying you. But I will not have such unseemly haste about the matter that everyone begins to say there must be something havey-cavey about the match. We’ll wait at least a week.”
“Two days,” Edmund countered.
“Four.”
“Three.”
Three it was, and during those three days, Edmund snatched moments alone with Miss Trowley, whenever her siblings could be bribed to look the other way or make themselves scarce for a brief while so that he could embrace her again, gratified each time that she so willingly came into his arms and seemed to respond to him as much as he did to her. He forced himself not to take matters beyond kisses, for that would have been a betrayal of the hospitality which was being shown to him. Each time he forced himself to stop, he found himself even more impatient for the wedding to take place.
* * *
Beatrix was unaware of the difficulty Lord Rothwood had restraining himself, she only knew that she looked forward, more and more, to the times they could find sufficient privacy for him to hold and kiss her. She also listened with shining eyes to his talk of his homes, one in London and another in the countryside.
“Imagine,” she told her sister Callista. “To have more than one house seems an incredible luxury. And the staff he employs for each one. Never, as Mama said, to have to scrub a floor again. Never to have to dodge the butcher or tailor or any other tradesman because one does not have the funds to pay one’s bills.”
“And all the dresses you want,” Callista said dreamily. “Not a single one that was made over from Mama’s. Promise you will pass them on to me when you tire of each one!”
“Oh, Callista, am I foolish or vain to think of such things? To delight in imagining more than one good dress? Or to imagine dancing at a ball in something that truly becomes me rather than being fashioned out of cloth chosen solely because it is the cheapest to be had? Is it wanton to dream of never again going hungry to bed or having to forgo my own portion so our younger siblings might eat?”
“Indeed not,” her sister said firmly. “How can it be foolish to wish to be more comfortable than we are here? I assure you I shall think of it when I look for a husband.”
There was a tinge of bitterness to Callista’s voice and impulsively Beatrix clasped her sister’s hands in her own. “I promise,” she said fiercely, “that as soon as I can, I shall bring you to London and sponsor your curtsey to the ton. You will have the chance I never did to meet eligible gentlemen, lots of them, who can give you the things that you desire.”
“You are the best of sisters,” Callista vowed.
Beatrix hoped that she was. She also hoped that she would be able to keep the promise she had just made. Lord Rothwood would have to understand.
“You are so lucky that Lord Rothwood loves you,” Callista said. “I shall look for a husband just like him.”
Beatrix smiled but a part of her wondered that Callista should call it love. Rothwood certainly did not do so. Was she wrong to wish he would? To wish to be sure that was what she felt for him?
But what was love? How would she know it if it ever happened between them? Might it not be what she already felt for the Viscount? And even if it was not, hadn’t Mama and Papa started with less? No one, seeing them together now could ever doubt the depths of their affection for each other. And though he might not speak of love, surely Rothwood looked at her with a warmth in his eyes he did not spare for anyone else. Surely the kindness in his words and actions meant far more than any one word, didn’t it?
So it was that Beatrix calmed her fears and allowed herself to believe that all would be well and that her wedding, which was to take place so soon, would be all that she could wish for.
It was only the arrival of Lady Kenrick that gave Beatrix pause.
* * *
Lord Rothwood was not surprised to see his aunt arrive the day after his return from seeing the Archbishop. She was the force of the family, even though he was its nominal head and always seemed to know everything, often before he did. Besides, as Mrs. Trowley’s bosom bow and Miss Trowley’s godmother, she would want to be there for the wedding. Thank heavens none of the rest of his distant family would feel the need to show, even if there was time to alert them to the event. But this was his Aunt Violet and he was in rather good humor as he handed her down from her carriage. After all, had it not been for her bringing him to visit all those years ago, he might never have thought to consider Miss Trowley to be his bride.
“So you’ve done something right,” Lady Kenrick said, smoothing down her skirts. “Where is Beatrix?”
Dutifully he kissed his aunt’s cheek before he answered her. “Inside, with the rest of the family. I only saw your carriage coming down the drive because I was out walking.”
“Alone? You’ve not already been neglecting your bride to be, have you?”
“No, of course not!”
Was he? Or was it simply a natural need for some peace and quiet after the constant chaos of her large family? Once they were on their own, at his estate, there would be no need for such respite. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be expected to dance constant attendance upon her, would he? His father had never done so with his mother.
Something of this must have shown on his face for his aunt patted his arm. “A bit overwhelmed, are you, by the family? Well, no matter. Everyone is, even me, upon occasion. You and Beatrix will be fine once you are away from here.”
“That is what I ho
pe,” Rothwood confided.
The front door opened even as they were walking toward it and the entire Trowley family spilled outside to greet Lady Kenrick. She seemed on a first-name basis with all the offspring and Rothwood found himself wondering just how often she actually came to visit. From the looks of things, far more than he had realized.
It was strange to think that his domineering aunt had all that much in common with this carelessly happy sprawling family, but apparently she did. Perhaps it was the very heedlessness of their nature that his aunt found soothing. Or perhaps she simply liked to boss them around because that was certainly what she was doing now.
“Adrian, bring in my luggage. That’s a good boy. Marianne, you’ll put me in my usual room.”
“Er, Violet, your nephew is staying in that room,” Mrs. Trowley replied.
“He can move in with the boys. Beatrix, see that his things are moved, that’s a good girl.”
“No, Edmund, not a word! I am here for your wedding and therefore you must accommodate me. I am certain I taught you to respect your elders! If you don’t want to share a room with the boys you may remove yourself to the local inn. I’m told it’s quite nice.”
Lady Kenrick went on with a number of other commands before she was finally settled in the most comfortable chair in the drawing room with the entire Trowley family surrounding her and looking as if her behavior was the most natural thing in the world. And perhaps it was to them. But Rothwood was not so amiable or happy to be ordered about. He stood with his back to the empty fireplace and ignored his aunt’s direction that he should sit next to his betrothed. He would do so, but in his own time.
Miss Trowley cast him a wry, apologetic smile and he responded in kind. At least they were in accord when it came to his aunt. He had not forgotten how, when they met after his carriage landed in the ditch, she had mentioned ringing a peal over his aunt’s head on her previous visit. He was rather going to enjoy seeing her put his aunt in her place the next time she visited his home once he was married. For now, he chose not to make a scene even though there was resistance in every line of his body as he watched the farce unfolding before him.
* * *
Heavens, why didn’t Lord Rothwood do something about his aunt, Beatrix wondered with pardonable frustration. After what had happened last time Lady Kenrick visited, she knew it would upset Mama if she tried. But really, what kind of woman walked into someone else’s home and immediately started giving orders with no care or thought for what the preferences might be of the people already living there?
Beatrix found herself imagining her reaction if Lady Kenrick tried to run roughshod over her once she was Lady Rothwood. She would very much enjoy giving her a setdown. If, that is, it would not distress Lord Rothwood. She risked a hasty glance at him and he looked as unhappy as she felt about his aunt’s behavior. Excellent! They could present a united front to the woman.
And then he sat beside her and took her hand. When she looked at him in surprise, he smiled down at her reassuringly, and she felt as if she would melt. It took every ounce of self-control not to lean against him and rest her head on his strong shoulder. She had no idea that she smiled back up at him or that everyone in the room sighed and smiled just watching them. All Beatrix knew was that she felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
“Harrumph!” Lady Kenrick said loudly. “Enough time for that after the ceremony. I presume it will be in the village church?”
“Yes, yes, day after tomorrow.”
“Not before ten a.m., I hope,” Lady Kenrick said sharply. “I am not so young that I can be up at dawn anymore.”
“No, er, eleven,” Mama said quickly. “And then back here for the wedding breakfast.”
Lady Kenrick turned to Beatrix and Lord Rothwood. “When will you leave and where will you go?”
Beatrix felt herself cringe and Lord Rothwood squeezed her hand in comfort. In his cool, well-bred voice he said lightly, “We shall leave directly after the wedding breakfast and after my bride has taken leave of her family. As to where we will go, I really don’t think you need to know.”
“Need to know? Of course I need to know! That will be the first question on everyone’s lips when I return to London!”
Lord Rothwood smiled. “And think of the fun of telling them you don’t know. It will cause such a sensation.”
That gave Lady Kenrick pause. There was no doubt from her expression that she was considering which would provide her the most satisfaction: to badger her nephew into telling her every detail of his plans or to be able to confound all her acquaintances and keep them guessing. Beatrix had no doubt she would prefer to have both.
Lady Kenrick started to speak but Lord Rothwood forestalled her. “No,” he said implacably. “If you know you will tell them, just to prove you were able to browbeat it out of me. I have no wish to be beset with curiosity seeking visitors while my bride and I are getting to know each other better. You must be satisfied with enjoying their confusion and speculation.”
Lady Kenrick regarded her nephew with narrowed eyes then finally nodded. “Very well. You have a point, even if I wish you did not.” She paused and turned to Mrs. Trowley. “Well? When are we to have tea?”
Relieved to have Lady Kenrick’s attention turned elsewhere, Beatrix let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Again Lord Rothwood squeezed her hand. All they had to do, she told herself, was manage until the wedding and wedding breakfast were over and they could be on their way.
If that was a rather naive view of things, well, what experience did Beatrix have except what she had seen in her own household? How could she imagine that marriage would be any different than the affectionate companionship she saw between Mama and Papa? Who was going to tell her otherwise? Certainly not her parents or her siblings or Lady Kenrick, all of whom devoutly wished for this marriage to take place.
As for Lord Rothwood, in his own way, he was as naive as she was, even if his expectations were rather different. As so many other couples before them, they marched toward their wedding day blithely unaware of what they were doing, of what was in store in the days ahead.
Chapter 6
Lady Kenrick watched as Edmund put the final touches to his cravat on the morning of his wedding day. He was, she thought, looking most pleased with himself. No doubt he had convinced himself this marriage was a sensible one, just as his father would have wished. And, by the terms of the late Lord Rothwood’s notions, it was. But she knew Edmund better than that. He might not know it yet, but she saw the eagerness in his expression every time Beatrix entered the room. Lady Kenrick saw the tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her goddaughter, and she was glad for it.
Edmund didn’t know it, but he needed a wife who would touch his heart and melt the exterior of ice that had grown in place over the years and caused Lady Kenrick such worry. He’d been a sensitive child and the late Lord Rothwood had done everything he could to browbeat it out of the boy. But nothing could destroy Edmund’s innate kindness. Even when he tried to follow his father’s dictates, he always fell short and Lady Kenrick gave thanks to God for that. She would have hated were Edmund truly the man he thought he was, the man most people thought he was. Indeed, she would never have countenanced this match if she did not believe that Beatrix was the woman to help Edmund be the man he could be, if he would only let himself. She would encourage him to play, to laugh, to set aside his father’s harsh dictates and instead explore the wonders of life.
It was sentimental of her, to be sure, but Lady Kenrick had always loved Edmund with a fierceness that was beyond reason. She saw the best of his mother in him, as well as the best of his father for, yes, there had been good in the late Lord Rothwood, despite all his faults. He was an honorable man and had upheld his marriage vows even when his wife did not. He had refused to publicly speak a word against her, even when she did not hesitate to flaunt her affair to the ton. The late Lord Rothwood had raised his son to honor his debts and take his
responsibilities as Viscount seriously. He simply had not known what to do with a wayward wife and a son who cared about everything as deeply as Edmund did. It had almost destroyed all three of them. But now, with this marriage, Edmund had a chance for happiness and Lady Kenrick would do everything she could to see that he seized that chance. If only she could see a way to shake his faith in his father’s strictures on the subject of marriage.
“It will not come amiss if you treat Beatrix with kindness,” she ventured to suggest.
Edmund looked affronted. “Of course I shall treat my wife with kindness,” he said. “How could you think otherwise?”
Lady Kenrick tried again. “Her notions of kindness may not accord precisely with yours,” she said.
He frowned. “Aunt Violet, what are you trying to say?”
She took a step toward him. “Only that your father was not always the wisest of men when it came to marriage. He did not understand that we women need affection. We need to have someone truly listen to us.”
Edmund smiled kindly at her. “It is natural for you to worry,” he said, “but my father’s ideas were carefully thought out, and I never heard my mother complain about how my father treated her.”
Of course he had not, Lady Kenrick thought with despair, for Edmund’s father had warned her that if she ever did so, he would remove the boy from her care and she would never see him again. But she could not say that to Edmund. He worshipped his father, and to try to tell him the truth would only create a rift between herself and Edmund that might never be healed. Experience had taught her that much over the years. No, she must trust Beatrix to teach Edmund to challenge his father’s rules on the subject. So now she merely said aloud, “I only wish you to be happy.”
“I know. And I shall be. Miss Trowley is the perfect wife for me, you shall see.”
Yes, but was he the perfect husband for her? Lady Kenrick worried that she had done a disservice to her goddaughter and yet she could not help but feel, deep inside, that this marriage would be the saving of both of them. She devoutly prayed that was true.
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