Love Regency Style

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Love Regency Style Page 258

by Samantha Holt


  “You’re wearing that?” Garrett wondered as he looked over Joshua’s waistcoat and breeches. Gates was pulling out a black topcoat and a pair of nearly new Hessians.

  “Actually, I thought to strip to my drawers just as the cer­emony was supposed to begin,” Joshua replied acerbically. “Of course, this is what I am wearing.” He paused a moment, won­dering why Garrett would ask. “Why do you ask?” He was sud­denly questioning his choice of the silver waistcoat he favored for special occasions.

  Garrett gave a long sigh. “I have it on good authority Lady Charlotte will be wearing blue watered silk covered in some kind of gold threads,” he explained patiently. “I rather think you’ll clash wearing silver.” He didn’t add it was the gown he had purchased for Jane. Mrs. Gates had made a gown intended for Charlotte, but when she saw what Garrett had in mind for Jane, she insisted the gowns be switched and assured Garrett she would see to the alterations. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride’s dress before the wedding, don’t you know?” she explained when he asked why it was so important Jane wear a different gown.

  Joshua regarded his estate manager and the man who would be standing with him that morning. “I don’t have a gold one,” he countered, a frown causing his visible brow to fur­row. A local craftsman had made him a new mask, its smooth black leather matching his formal attire. He had donned it for the occasion, thinking it made him look as if he were about to attend a masked ball.

  Eyebrows cocking, Garrett left the room and soon returned with a gold metallic waistcoat. “It may be a bit large on you,” he considered as he held it out. Gates intercepted the waistcoat and made quick work of undoing the buttons on the one Joshua wore. In moments, the butler had his master redressed in the gold waistcoat and the back pinned to take it the slack. “Much better,” Garrett commented as he watched Joshua being dressed. When he was finished with the waist­coat, Gates left the room for a moment.

  For his role as best man, Garrett had chosen a black coat and breeches made of superfine and a white-on-white embroi­dered waistcoat. “This is what I’m wearing,” he stated proudly as he stood next to the long mirror, studying his reflection and hoping his cravat wouldn’t look too crushed by the time they got to Plaistow.

  Joshua watched Garrett as he adjusted the knot of his cra­vat with steady hands. “How is it you’re not … nervous?” he wondered, his own hands shaking a bit. I am getting married today!

  Garrett took a last look at his reflection before turning his attention to the duke. “What is there to be nervous about?” he countered, his manner suggesting he got married every day.

  Joshua’s eyes widened as he regarded his friend. “Indeed?” he replied in mock disbelief. His brow furrowed as he regarded his friend for another moment. “My God, man, you’re about to be leg-shackled!” Joshua nearly shouted back.

  “Indeed,” Garrett replied calmly, reaching over to adjust Joshua’s cravat, and then finding it not responding to his nudge, moving to untie it entirely so he could retie it.

  “What are you doing? Gates just did that!”

  “And you managed to ruin it. Stand still,” Garrett ordered as he tied the perfect mail coach knot, his fingers steady.

  Joshua stared at Garrett. “You’re too calm. And you sound as if …” He blinked. And then blinked again. “Are you truly?” he asked then, moving to stand in front of Garrett. “Getting married, I mean?” he asked, a bit stunned at the idea Garrett McElliott was seriously considering matrimony. The man had spoken of it since his return from London, but Joshua was sure he had been a bit foxed and was merely feeling sorry for himself.

  Garrett nodded. “At eleven o’clock this morning, if we ever actually leave here so I might do so,” he replied with a bit of impatience. “I am still expecting you to stand with me.”

  Joshua’s smile widened just as Gates returned with a pair of cuff links. “I would be honored!” he exclaimed, feeling sud­denly giddy. He had spent the entire morning in a glorious mood, due, no doubt, to having had a wanton woman on top of him, and not just once, but twice in the past ten hours. At the thought of how Charlotte looked when she was crawling up his body that morning, Joshua had to shake himself and quickly think of something else. “You’re too calm,” he said again, suddenly conscious of his beating heart.

  “I am, and I will be for, well, about six months or so, and then I shall be a wreck,” the estate manager responded, turning his attention to pulling on gloves.

  “What happens in six months or so?”

  Garrett’s eyebrows cocked up in surprise. “I become a father,” he stated, as if Joshua should know very well why he would be a wreck. “I mentioned it last night, but I guess you were a bit preoccupied.”

  “What?” the duke questioned, his own visible eyebrow cocking nearly into his hairline.

  His estate manager took a step back and stared at Joshua. “Lady Charlotte didn’t tell you?” He thought about that for a moment, surprised the future duchess hadn’t regaled Joshua with the news.

  Unless she thought the duke already knew. Garrett was his friend as well as his employee, after all.

  Joshua stepped back. “Obviously not,” he replied carefully. “Jane is … is with child?” he whispered then, stopping himself before asking if the child was Garrett’s. Of course, it’s Garrett’s, he chided himself. Jane had been smitten with his friend since the first time they had played faro at her table at The Jack of Spades.

  Garrett grinned, obviously proud. “Indeed. I guess you didn’t notice the golden glow that emanates from her when she enters a room?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t even have to be told,” he added with a good deal of satisfaction.

  Joshua swallowed, stunned at the news. Frank O’Laughlin wouldn’t have allowed a rake anywhere near his adopted daughter. “Does O’Laughlin know?” he whispered, thinking perhaps the gaming hell owner was forcing Garrett into mar­riage to Jane.

  “No,” Garrett replied with a shake of his head. “Jane plans to write him with the news when she’s increasing.”

  Joshua closed his mouth at the answer. Charlotte hadn’t mentioned a thing, despite their having spent the entire night together in his bedchamber.

  “If you had been seeing to your ducal duties this past week, Lady Charlotte would be with child, as well,” Garrett heard himself scolding in a tone that suggested he wasn’t teasing. He remembered the lady’s scarred back, though, and wondered if perhaps it would be some time before Joshua would bed the beauty. “Grandby was quite disappointed to learn you hadn’t married his goddaughter the day she arrived.”

  Joshua’s jaw dropped open. “I couldn’t! She wasn’t yet one-and-twenty!” Joshua retorted, a bit annoyed at the com­ment. “And who says I haven’t been doing my ducal duties?” he added with a hint of anger. “I’ll have you know we’ve shared a bed every night since she arrived here!”

  A slow, devilish smile spread across Garrett’s face.

  “Indeed,” he said with a cocked eyebrow. “Then, I suggest we get to the chapel sometime this morning so you can marry her,” he stated, turning on his heel and moving to the door. “My own bride is around here, somewhere.”

  Joshua kept his footing, adjusting the fingers of his gloves as he did so. “Since you two are living in the dowager cot­tage,” he considered, “You can certainly dine with us here,” he offered, thinking there wouldn’t be a cook for the cottage. “At some point, though, you’ll have to move in here.”

  Garrett turned from the doorway, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Joshua allowed Gates to finish buttoning his topcoat and took a quick look in the cheval mirror before returning his attention to his estate manager. “Charlotte is seeing to it that a collection of rooms on the west wing is made into an apart­ment for you and Jane and … your …” Joshua allowed the sen­tence to trail off as he noticed his friend’s reaction. “What is it?” Joshua moved to the door so they could take their leave.

  Garrett’s look of co
nfusion turned to suspicion. “My what? You were about to say ..?” he hinted, hurrying down the hall­way to the stairs.

  “Well, your children, of course, since it sounds like you’re already having them,” Joshua replied hastily. “Charlotte said she was designing a set of suites for you and Jane and a nurs­ery and a parlor,” he continued carefully, wondering what had possessed Garrett to seem so suspicious.

  Smiling, Garrett nodded, not letting on he already knew of Lady Charlotte’s plan. “I see,” he finally answered, bouncing down the stairs with a bit more enthusiasm than Joshua would expect for a man about to get married. “I will speak with Jane. She may prefer to live in Kirdford or …” He paused a moment and considered what a life change it was for Jane to move to the country. She had lived in town for nearly eight years and had worked at The Jack of Spades for most of it. Although she seemed fine with giving up her position there, was she really?

  Jane spoke as if she had been saving money, but she had never said for what she planned to use it. She didn’t seem to spend an excess of coin on her gowns or frippery, but she was always nicely dressed. Perhaps she hoped to return to Scotland one day. Garrett realized he didn’t know her plans. He looked up to find Joshua staring at him.

  “Or?” Joshua repeated, giving his friend a look suggesting he had been waiting for him to finish his thought.

  “Or … she may want to move back to London. She’s done just fine on her own all these years. A bit of an independent woman, Jane is,” Garrett finished, his mood suddenly a bit sul­len. If Jane did want to move back to town, he would have to go with her. He had discovered these past few days he couldn’t live without her in his life.

  Joshua regarded Garrett for a very long time. “And that is not necessarily a bad thing,” he spoke quietly, very glad he wasn’t about to marry an insipid girl who knew nothing of the world except gossip and the latest fashions from France. He straightened. “Which reminds me,” he said suddenly. “Aren’t we supposed to be in Plaistow at ten-thirty?”

  Smiling broadly, Garrett headed for the front door. “Yes. But first we must find my bride. After you, Your Grace,” he said, waving his hand in a mock bow at which Joshua could only roll his eyes. Hearing Mrs. Gates call to him from the top of the stairs, Garrett redirected his attention to her.

  And he froze.

  For there on the landing stood his bride. My beautiful bride! Dressed in a long-sleeved cream satin and tulle gown adorned with cream satin ribbons, Jane looked as if she would be the center of attention at any ton ball. Her hair was a mass of tight curls atop her head with ringlets along her temples and cream satin ribbons threaded through her hair. A cream-colored hat, nearly flat and adorned with cream roses and a bit of tulle, was pinned at a jaunty angle. She held a bouquet of three roses in her gloved hands. And she looked so happy, her face glowing, Garrett could do nothing but smile in return. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he finally said as he forced his legs to move so he could climb the stairs to escort her down.

  “And you’re more handsome than the first night I met you,” Jane countered as she took in his finery. Seeing he had no flower in his lapel, she plucked a rosebud from one of her stems and threaded it through the buttonhole in his topcoat, patting the stem with a gloved hand before stepping away from Garrett.

  Joshua watched the two of them in awe, watched carefully as Garrett took his bride’s hand and placed it on his arm and continued to look at Jane even as they were descending the stairs. When the two stopped in front of him, Jane curtsied and Garrett bowed formally. “Your Grace,” Garrett said quietly.

  As Joshua regarded the couple, his hammering heart slowed a bit and he took a deep breath. I am getting married today, he thought, a sense of calm settling over him. “Let’s be on our way,” he said with a huge smile.

  Chapter 34

  Lady Charlotte Becomes a Bride

  Charlotte stood staring at the closed door to her duke’s room, her mind suddenly on today.

  I’m getting married today!

  She moved to pull the bell to summon Parma and then set about messing up the bed so it would look like she slept in it. She tossed her clothes from the night before onto the end of the bed and pulled on a dressing gown just as Parma knocked.

  “Come!” she called out, giving her maid a big smile as the small woman entered.

  “You don’t look like a nervous bride,” Parma said as she motioned outside the door. A troop of maids entered carrying steaming pails of water, and they were followed by Mrs. Gates, who carried a gown across her arms.

  “Good morning, Lady Charlotte,” the older woman said brightly. “Might you take a look and see what you think of your wedding gown?” she wondered, holding it out for Charlotte.

  The younger woman gasped. Although Joshua had men­tioned Mrs. Gates had seen to a gown for her wedding, Char­lotte was still surprised to see sky blue silk covered in a gold metallic netting. Charlotte reached out to take the gown by the shoulders and hold it up to herself. The overskirt seemed to radiate light in every direction, and the effect was confirmed when she turned to look at her reflection in the cheval mir­ror. “This is exquisite,” she breathed in surprise, noting the back of the bodice was higher than her scar. “Oh, I so hope it fits.” She had nothing else suitable for a wedding; most of her dinner gowns were too low cut in the back and would show her scar, and none could be considered appropriate for a wed­ding. “Wherever did you get it?” she asked as she looked at the proud housekeeper.

  Mrs. Gates beamed as she watched the future mistress of the house. “Well, it’s a bit of a story. Madame Suzanne in London had this gown already made up, so Mr. McElliott bought it for his Jane to wear. Meanwhile, Mrs. Thomas had made a cream satin gown in Chichester when she thought she might be marrying a young gentleman, oh, this was years ago now. But she changed her mind, and her current husband didn’t want her wearing a gown meant for a different groom when they got married the year after,” she explained. “Well, Mr. McElliott already saw his bride’s gown, which is verra bad luck, so I insisted we switch the two.” She took a breath. “I do think this one is more elegant,” she remarked with a wink.

  Elegant was definitely the word, Charlotte decided as she fingered the gold netting and the watered silk beneath it. “I will bathe and then try it on. How much time do I have?” she asked then, not sure what plans the staff had made with the church, or even if the ceremony would take place in a church.

  “You’ll be married in the chapel at Plaistow,” Mrs. Gates informed her. “Right after Mr. McElliott and Miss Wethersby get married. Eleven o’clock. And then everyone will come here for the breakfast. Cook took the cakes out of the oven an hour ago—they had to bake for five hours, you see—and all the breads are going in now. We’ll have a feast, of course,” she went on, suddenly waving her hands. “But I must be going. I have some other things to see to,” she added as she headed for the door.

  “Mrs. Gates,” Charlotte called out before the housekeeper could leave the room. When the older woman stopped and regarded her expectantly, Charlotte said, “I should like to be present for Miss Wethersby’s wedding ceremony.”

  “Then you’ve not a moment to waste, my lady,” Mrs. Gates replied with a gasp. “I’ll see to it there is a carriage ready to take you to Plaistow at ten,” she claimed as she once again moved to leave. Before she was out, though, she stopped and regarded Charlotte with her head cocked to the side. “I have been waiting for this day for eighteen years,” she said as tears threatened to flow.

  Charlotte gave the housekeeper a watery smile. “So have I,” she replied. So have I! The sentiment reminded her she hadn’t heard back from her mother—she didn’t know if the woman would make the trip from London to be present for her wed­ding. And she found herself wondering how her father was faring. Under the circumstances, perhaps leaving London had been a selfish move on her part. But her mother had insisted, afraid if Edward Bingham died while in hospital, Charlotte would have to delay a wedding for a
t least six months to honor the mourning period. And by then, given what her cousin had done to her dowry and the arrangements made with Henry Forster, she would find herself the Countess of Gisborn and in a marriage of convenience rather than about to marry the man she loved. And he loves me, she remembered, a frisson pass­ing through her entire being as memories of his lovemaking returned unbidden.

  The next two hours were a whirlwind of activity as she bathed, put on all her under things (except a corset, having discovered the night before she would no doubt faint, if not from lack of air, then from the events about to take place), and Parma dressed her hair. Gold lamé ribbons were threaded through the curls piled atop her head while someone rolled up translucent stocking on her legs. When she pulled on the gown, she felt positively royal. The bodice was a bit tight, but Parma assured her that displaying her ‘rising moons’ for her new husband would be proper.

  Charlotte rather doubted ‘proper’ was quite the right word when she glanced in the cheval mirror. The gown was beauti­ful, though, reflecting its golden light as she turned to take in the fit and length. Deciding the skirt was a bit long, she found some gold dance slippers with heels to boost her up. There were blue earbobs and long white gloves and a rakish bon­net Parma was able to retrofit with gold ribbon. By ten, when Charlotte Bingham was about to climb into a barouche driven by the village blacksmith, she felt ready to be married.

  The sight of the Earl of Torrington’s carriage pulling into the drive was as unexpected as it was a delight. “I believe that must be my godfather come to bid me happy,” Charlotte said to Parma as she indicated to the blacksmith he would need to hold up for a moment. And, when the earl’s carriage door opened, Grandby did indeed step down. He turned, though, and handed down Lady Bingham before he and her mother made their way to her barouche.

  “Mother!” she called in surprise, stepping away from the carriage.

  “Charlotte!” Lady Bingham replied happily as she came to the side of the barouche and hugged Charlotte. “You look …” There were tears in the older woman’s eyes as she gazed at Charlotte. “Like a beautiful bride,” she finally said, sniffling. Grandby was suddenly alongside Lady Bingham, offering a handkerchief before he took Charlotte’s hand and kissed the back of it.

 

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