She bowed her head, crossing her arms against her stomach and wishing she were not so weak. “There could be someone else for you,” she insisted.
“But will that person love me as much as you do?” he asked in his deep baritone.
Eden’s gaze flashed up to his face. “No! Never as much as I do!” she answered fiercely, and ran into his arms.
He twirled her around as if they danced together. Eden laid her head against his chest, safe in his embrace. He was rock solid, a pillar of strength. “I hope you’ll never be sorry, Pierce. I promise you. I will try to be everything a good wife should be and more.”
“I only ask that you be yourself, Eden, because it is that person I’ve fallen in love with.”
She buried her face in the clean folds of his shirt. Be yourself. His words dampened some of her joy, but she forced the dark thoughts away. She would be a good wife!
She slipped out from his hold. “I must see Mrs. Meeks about some of the wedding plans.”
“Did the kegs of ale arrive?” he asked.
“They are in the barn and waiting for the wedding feast,” she told him with a weak smile.
“Eden, we shall have a grand party to celebrate our marriage and I don’t give a damn if Dutton and Danbury and the others are there or not. We’ll have all of Hobbles Moor and only those who would wish us happy.” He kissed the back of her hands.
She parted from him reluctantly. If she’d had a choice, she’d stay and watch him work… but she had much to do before the wedding and one thing in particular she must do if they were going to be completely happy.
Outside in the hallway she ran into Mrs. Meeks who earlier that morning had chastised her for not being more involved in the wedding plans. The smell of baking bread wafted through the house.
“Mrs. Meeks, I want the church filled with flowers.”
“Flowers, miss? That’s somewhat irregular. Do you think the vicar will allow it?”
“I will talk to him myself. He’ll either let me do it or I shall be married in the garden.”
Mrs. Meeks shook her head. “Oh, he won’t let you do that.”
“I know. Come, you must help me find every vase in the house. Tomorrow morning, I want you to supervise the footmen and have them cut the best blooms in the garden. I want the church full of color. And what are our plans for afterward?”
“Well, we were planning a formal wedding breakfast although it will be sparsely attended—”
“No, not anymore. We are inviting everyone in the village.”
Mrs. Meeks’s mouth opened in surprise. “But I thought they were going to have a party of their own by the stables? Lord Penhollow is having an ox roasted to celebrate the event.”
“Yes, and he shall still do that. But we shall serve everything out in the garden and everyone is welcome. Those who come to my wedding will feast all day. And music?” she asked suddenly. “What music have we planned?”
“There is a band from the village, but you haven’t said anything about music for the breakfast.”
“They must play for the breakfast too,” Eden declared.
Mrs. Meeks clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is going to be a grand wedding!”
Eden smiled, feeling stronger and stronger with each decision. “And Mrs. Meeks, I don’t want anyone staying behind during the wedding ceremony itself. I want you and Lucy and Rawlins and everyone to join us.”
Tears formed in Mrs. Meeks eyes. “Oh, miss, I’m so happy you are out of the blue devils that were bothering you. You are exactly what our Lord Pierce needs.”
“I pray that you are right.” Eden moved to the stairs leading to the second floor. “Is Lady Penhollow still up in her rooms?” She started up the stairs.
Mrs. Meeks trailed after her. “What are you going to do, Miss Eden?”
“I wish to talk with my future mother-in-law.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mrs. Meeks said, worried. “She’s a very difficult woman and she isn’t in the best of moods today.”
“Yes. I understand that,” Eden said, continuing to climb.
“I don’t think you should bother her.” Mrs. Meeks lowered her voice. “She says she wants nothing to do with you.”
“Well, she must tell me that in person,” Eden answered, leaving Mrs. Meeks standing on the landing, worry lines marring her forehead.
Eden hadn’t considered what she was going to say, but feared if she waited, she would lose her nerve. She knocked on Lady Penhollow’s door. Footsteps walked toward the door from the other side. It opened. Mrs. Ivy stood there.
Eden now knew that Mrs. Ivy had accompanied Lady Penhollow as a bride from London and none of the other servants trusted her.
The thin woman was over fifty with high cheekbones and a sullen expression. The thought crossed Eden’s mind that this woman couldn’t be a cheerful influence on Lady Penhollow.
Lady Penhollow herself sat in the window seat, concentrating on her needlework. She didn’t look up, but her back stiffened.
“I wish to speak to Lady Penhollow,” Eden told the dresser.
“I will see if my mistress is available,” Mrs. Ivy said in a disinterested voice and started to shut the door.
Eden put out her hand and pushed on the door, refusing to let it close.
“You must wait a moment, miss,” Miss Ivy said indignantly.
“I’ll wait with the door open,” Eden answered.
Mrs. Ivy raised her eyebrows slightly, but stepped back. “Lady Penhollow, Miss Eden wishes an audience with you.”
Eden didn’t wait for her response but slipped around Mrs. Ivy into the room.
Mrs. Ivy hissed in anger, but Lady Penhollow silenced her with a raised hand. Her chin lifted to a proud angle, she said, “I have nothing to say to you, Miss Eden. Please remove yourself from my rooms.”
“No,” Eden answered. “Not until I’ve said what I’ve come to say.”
Lady Penhollow’s eyes blazed bright blue. She was not accustomed to being defied. “If you have come to order me to vacate these rooms for your use, then know that we have already started packing. However, you are not the countess yet and I will not leave until after the ceremony.“
Eden looked around the sitting room. Two huge trunks sat open, half packed with clothing and knickknacks.
“I have not come to ask you to leave.”
“You haven’t?” Lady Penhollow said, surprised. She frowned. “Well then, say what you wish and be done with it.” She turned her attention back to her needlework.
Eden glanced at Mrs. Ivy whose presence was like a black sentinel in the room. “What I have to say must be said to you alone.”
Lady Penhollow’s head jerked up. “Miss Ivy will stay.”
“No, my lady.”
She frowned her displeasure. Eden’s gaze didn’t waver.
At last, Lady Penhollow gave Mrs. Ivy a curt nod of dismissal. Mrs. Ivy protested with a sniff, but left the room.
Lady Penhollow lowered her needlework to her lap. “What is it you wish to say?”
Eden’s heart was pounding in her chest. What did she want to say? And what if her words only alienated the woman all the more?
“I want you at my wedding.”
Lady Penhollow’s chin lifted, her eyes narrowing.
Eden knew immediately she’d said the wrong thing, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. If the woman rejected her, then so be it—but Eden wasn’t giving up without a fight.
“I don’t have a family,” she admitted. “I’ve always been alone, even when I’ve been surrounded by other people.”
Lady Penhollow stared directly at Eden now.
She forged on. “You will be the closest thing I’ve ever had to a parent. I realize that I am not your first choice for a daughter-in-law, and that I may have cost you friends that you’ve held dear. But Lady Penhollow, I love him… and try as I might, I can’t seem to do what is noble and leave him. Of course, I don’t know what kind of countess I will be. But I do know I w
ill need your help.”
Eden walked over and knelt in front of her. “But most of all, I want us to be friends. Perhaps we can’t be close. Maybe we are too different or I’m too much of a disappointment to you; however, we have one thing in common— we both love Pierce. Can’t we, out of our love for him, at least attempt friendship? If that is too difficult, then I understand, but I’m willing to set aside my pride and beg you to come to the wedding tomorrow. It will mean a great deal to your son.”
Lady Penhollow’s expression didn’t change. Eden shifted her weight back, feeling awkward and stupid.
Slowly, deliberately, Lady Penhollow turned and looked out the window. It was a dismissal.
Eden had failed. She walked to the door and placed her hand on the handle. But she wasn’t done yet. “Either way, I don’t want you to leave Penhollow Hall,” Eden said. “I hope to give Pierce children. I want them to know their grandmother. Please consider staying here in these rooms for as long as you wish.”
The woman sitting in the window seat remained silent.
Turning the handle, Eden left the room, shutting the door behind her.
That evening, she and Pierce sat on the bench in the garden and talked until the stars were high in the sky. Their conversation mingled with the sound of the fountain and the night sounds of crickets and frogs. He held her in his arms while she told him about her conversation with his mother.
“It’s her way,” he said curtly, and would say no more.
Frustrated, Eden said, “I’ve dreamed of having a family, of belonging somewhere. Now I learn it is possible to have a family and still be alone.”
He raised her hand to his lips. “After tomorrow, you will never be alone.”
The next morning was overcast and gray. The footmen were out in the garden cutting flowers.
Betsy practically danced into Eden’s room. “It’s a great day to be married,” she sang. “Everyone is excited about your idea of filling the church with flowers.” She poured Eden’s chocolate from the pot on the bedside tray and threw open the wardrobe doors.
Carefully, she removed the cream silk dress with its overdress of gold lace. “This is the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen.” She hung the dress on an ornate hook in the wall. “You shall be the most lovely bride Penhollow Hall has ever seen. Lord Pierce should have your portrait painted in this dress and hung in the gallery.”
“I wish I could give more than just beauty.”
“What else would you give?”
“Oh, a dowry or family lines. The usual things that nobility marry for.”
“Miss Eden, why do you insist on always looking at the negative?” Betsy asked stoutly. “You give him happiness. A man can’t ask for more.”
Eden sat up in bed, thinking of Lady Penhollow. “But what is happiness, Betsy?”
Betsy smiled. “It’s the way he whistles and the sense of purpose in his steps, Miss Eden. I’ve heard that he plans on expanding the stables. He made a comment to Jim that he wants his sons to have a thriving business when they come of age. His sons. You are going to give him that. The Widow Haskell said so.” She dropped her voice. “She says you’ll give him a daughter too. We’re all so very happy you have come, my lady. You’re our gift to his lordship.”
Eden desperately wanted to believe her words. She wanted her past, Madame Indrani, and the sultan to become distant memories.
Anxious to get started with the day, she bounded out of bed and put on her gardening outfit. She spent the next hour helping Mrs. Meeks arrange flowers in vases before Betsy forced her to return to her room.
No one had seen or heard from Lady Penhollow or Mrs. Ivy.
The ceremony was scheduled for eleven. By ten-thirty, Eden was bathed and almost dressed. Lord Penhollow had already gone on to the church. Betsy told her he looked “dashing” in his wedding finery astride Cornish King. “He’s wearing a jacket cut out of a blue superfine that’s so dark it almost looks black. His pants are made of the same material and he has on a white waistcoat in figured silk.” She pretended to be overheated and fanned herself. “There isn’t another man in all of Cornwall more handsome.”
Mrs. Meeks came to the door, asking, “Is it time to put on the dress?”
“Yes,” Eden said, happy for the additional help. Her hair was done. She and Betsy had piled it high on her head and she’d taken rosebuds and pinned them among the curls. She wore Mary Westchester’s chain and medallion around her neck.
It was an ordeal to lower the gold lace overdress over her head. “We’re going to be late,” Mrs. Meeks chastised, helping Betsy button the row of buttons up Eden’s back. Finished, she opened the door. “Hurry, hurry. It’s not wise to be late to your own wedding. The groom will think you’ve gotten cold feet.”
Eden grabbed tike elbow-length gloves and pulled them on as she walked up the hall to the front foyer. Betsy and Mrs. Meeks trailed behind, both dressed in their Sunday best.
Eden had taken two steps into the foyer before she came to an abrupt halt.
Lady Penhollow stood waiting for them. She wore a frock of peacock blue and a lace and silk bonnet.
For several seconds, the two women stared at each other and then Lady Penhollow lifted her chin, and asked softly, “Am I too late to join the wedding party?”
For a second, Eden couldn’t speak. She took a step forward. “We would be honored by your presence.”
Lady Penhollow reached for a box sitting on a table along the wall. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Eden took it from her, somewhat dazed.
“Open it,” Lady Penhollow urged.
Eden lifted the cover of the box. Inside lay a lace veil. Carefully, she pulled it from the box and spread it open.
“It was my wedding veil. My father gave it to me,” Lady Penhollow said. “Pierce was very close to his grandfather. He was an earthy man. Except for wanting to see his daughter marry well, he was not grand and given to airs. I seem to have forgotten that.”
“No, you haven’t,” Eden countered. “And I shall treasure this gift all my life. Someday, I shall pass it on to the next countess.”
Her words found their mark. The stiffness left Lady Penhollow’s face. She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule. “Oh, dear, the wedding hasn’t started and already I’m turning sentimental.”
Eden felt the sting of tears too. She’d never realized before that a person could cry out of happiness as well as sorrow. “Come, my lady,” she said, holding her hand out to Lady Penhollow. “Let us ride together to the wedding. Pierce will be overjoyed to see you.”
And so they did, riding in the coach with Betsy and Mrs. Meeks. Jim drove the coach himself.
The church was full to overflowing with villagers as they pulled up in front of it. They’d taken Eden’s idea a step further and held flowers in their hands, which they waved as the coach approached, shouting out, “Penhollow!”
The sun came out just as Jim reined in the horses by the lichen-covered posts of the church’s front walk and all the world seemed blessed.
Pierce waited for her in front of the altar. She’d never seen him so handsome, or so intensely serious.
For a moment, she stood rooted in place. Then Lady Penhollow gave her hand a squeeze. “This is not the time for second-thoughts,” she warned, and Eden knew she was right.
She loved Pierce Kirrier. She would be a good wife to him. Mrs. Meeks gave her a small push and Eden went forward to meet the man who was to be her husband. Her satin slippers barely made a sound on the cold stone floor.
If the vicar had any doubts previous to the ceremony, they appeared to be gone now. The words were new to Eden, who had never attended a wedding, and therefore more sacred. She promised to love, honor, and obey this man. But she made a silent, extra vow of her own. She promised God she would do whatever necessary to keep her marriage happy.
At last, Pierce slid his ring down the ring finger of her left hand. It was a band of solid gold, etched with the crest of the ea
rl of Penhollow. This ring had been worn by a century and a half of Penhollow brides.
Taking her arm, he walked her through the church and out the open doors to face their life together. Almost immediately, they were crowded by well-wishers who pelted them with flower petals and sometimes the whole flower!
Lady Penhollow rode with them in the coach back to Penhollow Hall. Pierce kissed his mother’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Her eyes sparkling with tears, Lady Penhollow whispered to Eden, “You were right.”
The wedding breakfast was everything it should be. Lucy had outdone herself. There were muffins and breads of all shapes and sizes. She’d roasted a lamb and three geese. The kitchen staff must have worked through the night to create all the creams and puddings on the sideboard and, of course, there was the ox that had been roasting in a pit since the day before.
The day was not uncomfortably warm and everyone stayed outside. The music from the fiddler and his companions harmonized with the sound of the fountain and the buzz of bees. No one missed the local gentry.
Pierce remained at Eden’s side and he touched her often, as she did him. His hand would rest on her waist possessively and she found herself anxiously awaiting the moment when they would be alone.
By six that evening, the villagers began to make their way home. The servants started cleaning up.
Eden felt suddenly nervous. She picked up several plates and would have taken them to the kitchen except Pierce stopped her. He took the plates from her, handed them to Mrs. Meeks, and said, “Come.”
Her heart seemed to leap to her throat. Her hand trembled slightly in his. His smile was reassuring. Lacing his fingers with hers, he drew her into the house.
Their feet echoed on the marble in the foyer as he led her to his wing of the house. They climbed the steps, and then walked down the carpeted hallway to his set of rooms.
He opened the door and stepped back for her to enter. Eden hesitated. Once she crossed this threshold, she would be in his life permanently.
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE Page 20
