by Jane Ashford
“And Sebastian read out a long passage,” the duchess said.
Meeting her speculative gaze, Georgina recognized that here was an extremely sharp, observant woman. She’d seized on that crucial detail like the aforementioned snake striking. It would be a dreadful mistake to get on the duchess’s bad side, or try to deceive her. Not that Georgina intended to, ever. Why would she want to? “I hope Randolph has enjoyed his visit,” she answered, warmly evasive. “It’s been somewhat unusual for a clergyman.”
The older woman smiled, at the same time acknowledging the change of topic and allowing it. “He is a rather unusual clergyman.”
Their joint laughter rang through the room.
“There’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen,” said Sebastian, glimpsing them.
Georgina turned. The men had come into the drawing room. It was a picture to take one’s breath away—six tall, handsome Greshams grouped together. Poor Papa was quite overshadowed. From his peevish expression, he was well aware of it, too. On the other hand, Edgar, planted next to Alan like an acolyte, seemed oblivious.
“Why are you blocking the way?” demanded a lighter voice. Georgina’s mother pushed through the masculine crowd, a small, plump figure among giants. “All’s well with Nuala,” she informed her uninterested house party as she strode over to the hearth. “Are you going to play something, Emma?”
The two women Sebastian loved most in the world gazed up at him. Telling himself there was no reason to worry if Mama chose to have a little chat with Georgina, he walked over to their chairs.
“I’m so proud of you,” said his mother.
“So am I,” said his beloved almost wife.
He didn’t have the first idea why they should say so, at this particular moment, but he smiled down at them anyway. It didn’t matter a whit whether he understood. If he needed to, he had perfect confidence that his wife would explain it to him in due course. The point was: he’d never been so happy in his life.
Twenty-one
Later that night, when the young ladies and a weary Edgar and the older Stanes had gone to bed, the Greshams gathered in the library, catching up on the details of their lives. The brothers planned to sit up for some hours as a send-off for Sebastian on the eve of his wedding. “We should go up and leave the boys to their roistering,” said the duchess to her husband after a while.
“That’s a terribly old-fashioned expression, Mama,” said Robert.
“Well, I am an ancient, about to be a grandmamma,” she answered.
“A young and beautiful grandmamma,” put in the duke.
They exchanged the kind of look that made a man squirm when it was his parents, Sebastian thought. And yet he liked seeing it, too, because it was such a good omen for his own future. They said their good nights and went out.
“Now we can pour liquor down your throat and befuddle you,” said Nathaniel as the door closed behind them. “Any wolf skins about the castle? Robert?”
“No, there are not,” said Sebastian. He didn’t think there were. He’d been here for weeks and hadn’t seen any. “Or any other sorts either. We’ll have no pranks tonight.”
“You didn’t hesitate to pull one on me,” Nathaniel pointed out.
“I’m sorry,” said Sebastian.
“You are now, when it’s your turn.”
“That’s it,” he agreed.
“We’d need a fresh idea anyway,” said Robert, looking about the room as if for inspiration. “Mustn’t repeat ourselves.”
“What did you do to James?” Sebastian asked, half interested and half worried. He pushed his large glass of brandy aside.
“We had no chance at him,” Robert said. He sipped from his own drink. “He eloped,” he added with an evil grin.
Sebastian winced as all of them gazed at him. The mistake about his supposed elopement had been explained, several times, but that didn’t mean they’d let him forget it. Ever.
“More or less eloped,” Robert amended. “They were in Southampton, and the ship was there, and they wanted to be off over the sea.”
“James always wanted to be master of a ship,” said Alan. “And now he’s the owner as well.” He sipped. “This is quite good stuff.”
“And you’re to be a father,” Sebastian said. “The youngest of us first.”
Alan smiled like a man who had everything he could want.
“And Nathaniel… Well, Violet’s become a real stunner.”
Nathaniel grinned in quite a similar way.
“It seems marriage is treating the Gresham brothers well.” Sebastian fully expected to be as happy as his two brothers. Well, he already was. There was the small matter of Hilda becoming a member of his new household. That was worrisome. But they’d handle it. Georgina would, and he’d help. She was up to anything.
“Four of us,” said Robert. He raised his second large glass of brandy to Sebastian to show he was included in this number. “The odds are against the remainder.”
“Hey,” said Randolph.
“Well, they are. How many happy marriages do you know of, amongst our set?”
Randolph looked uneasy as he thought this over. “It’s not a case of odds,” he muttered. “It’s a matter of judgment and character.”
“Why do you care?” Nathaniel asked Robert. “Haven’t you always said you have no intention of contemplating matrimony until you’re forty or so?”
“That’s right,” said Sebastian. “How did you put it? When you’ve dwindled into a deadly dull country squire, as good as dead, then you’ll find some girl and marry.”
“Go boil your head,” replied Robert cordially.
This was odd, Sebastian thought. Of them all, Robert was usually the most lighthearted and carefree. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me.”
“Not unrequited love?” murmured Alan.
“Nothing of the kind!” Robert exploded. “Why would you even imagine something so ridiculous?”
“Ariel says…”
Robert cut him off with a savage gesture. “She’s your wife and very charming and lovely, but she doesn’t know everything!”
Awkwardness descended over the room, which didn’t happen often with the Gresham brothers. Sebastian examined Robert. Whatever could have happened to him?
“Ah, I nearly forgot,” said Nathaniel, taking the lead to smooth things over, as he so often did. He rose and went over to a vacant sofa, taking a cloth bag from behind it. “I brought this along. There was no time to send it.” He handed the bag to Sebastian.
“Wedding present?” Alan asked.
“Special commission,” answered Nathaniel.
Sebastian untied the drawstring and let the bag fall open. A wooden stringed instrument, something like a guitar, but not precisely, was revealed. “What the deuce?”
“Your lute,” Nathaniel said.
Robert and Alan gaped at him, and then at Sebastian, as he remembered, too late, his letter containing Randolph’s request. “Oh,” he said. “Right. The lute.”
Randolph leaned to one side as if to dissociate himself from the conversation. Then, realizing that he was quite close to a branch of lighted candles, he jerked back in the other direction.
Sebastian couldn’t hold back a laugh. He converted it quickly into a cough. “Lute,” he repeated. “Thanks very much.” He strummed the strings a bit for form’s sake. The result was dissonant.
“What the devil do you want with a lute?” Robert asked.
“Just a notion I had.” Sebastian strummed a bit more. He shouldn’t enjoy the chagrin on Randolph’s face, but he couldn’t help it.
“How did you even hear of such an instrument?” Alan said. He wasn’t quite as incredulous as Robert, but he looked deeply curious.
“The chansons de geste? The Song of Roland?�
� murmured Robert satirically.
Sebastian had no idea what these were, as his brother very well knew.
“You’ve never been musical,” commented Nathaniel.
“Oh, well, now that I’m to be married…”
“You intend to entertain your new wife with a lute?” Robert shook his head. “Even for you, that is an idiotic plan.”
Seeing Randolph cringe, Sebastian cheerfully agreed. There were times when being thought thickheaded could be helpful. He didn’t mind being his brother’s shield, dull as a block of wood. Especially now, when he knew it wasn’t true.
* * *
The wedding of Lord Sebastian Gresham to Lady Georgina Stane took place the following morning in the church near Stane Castle where the banns had been called. Nathaniel stood up with Sebastian, as the latter had with him. Emma and Hilda, demure in pink, supported their sister at the altar. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to describe Hilda as smug, Georgina thought.
Her youngest sister had exacted a promise that she could join them for the next season in London, when Georgina was to bring Emma out. Georgina had no doubt that Hilda had big plans for that visit. She didn’t even want to contemplate what they might be. For now, however, Hilda was all compliance.
Georgina didn’t feel the least bit nervous as she spoke her vows. Nor did Sebastian, as far as she could tell. She saw only a joy that mirrored her own on his face. And when they walked out after the ceremony, arm in arm, trailed by their families, they shared smiles wide with delight.
The group returned to the castle for a lavish wedding breakfast. Guests would be arriving for a celebratory dancing party this evening, some of them staying on to make up a more entertaining house party. But it was just Greshams and Stanes for now—along with Mr. Mitra—spread out around the grand blue reception room with plates of food from a buffet and glasses of champagne.
“It’s difficult to sit still,” Sebastian told his—at long last—wife. “I want to jump up and down and race about like an infant terror.”
Georgina laughed. “I know. I feel the same. I think it’s the relief of finally getting to this day. There were times when I feared we never would. When we were down in that ravine…”
“Or convincing your father that I’m not a Welsh barbarian…”
“Or scheming how to get through the ritual…”
Their smiles this time were tender. On the sofa cushions between them, their fingers laced together. “I don’t suppose we could slip upstairs?” Sebastian said.
Georgina considered this very enticing idea and regretfully shook her head. “Mama would probably come pounding at the bedroom door. She feels she has made quite heroic efforts, planning this day.”
He nodded. “We must march as ordered then. Until we leave tomorrow.” He squeezed her hand.
Georgina felt a thrill at the thought of their wedding journey. The duke was lending them a small manor house in the Peak District. There would be riding for Sebastian and country walks and three weeks alone—no interruptions or obligations or alarms. It sounded like heaven. “We could walk about the room at least,” she suggested, “and nod cordially at our wedding guests.”
Sebastian sprang up and offered his arm. Georgina rose and took it, and they began a stately circuit of the large chamber.
Their mothers were nearest, sitting in a pair of armchairs. “I’m pretty confident I’ll have a fine litter of puppies in a couple of months,” the marchioness said. “So I could send you one for Christmas.” She spoke as one offering a rare gift. “I’d pick out the most promising, of course.”
“I fear a pug wouldn’t get along with the Langford dogs,” the duchess replied, warmly polite. “They’re quite large, you know, and can be so boisterous.”
“That’s nonsense,” Sebastian whispered into Georgina’s ear. “My father has them perfectly trained.”
She leaned closer as his breath stirred her hair. Moved by the same impulse, they lingered by a window to listen, their backs to the room.
Georgina’s mother laughed. “Oh, my pugs can hold their own. Indeed, one of Edgar’s school friends brought a Great Dane along on a visit last year, and Drustan absolutely terrorized the poor thing. I wish you could have seen him leaping for its nose. And the huge creature backing into a corner, whimpering.”
“Admirable,” answered the duchess. “But I am so busy when we are in the country, always running about. Sadly, I wouldn’t be able to give a pug much attention. They seem to require a great deal of company.”
“Can you hear how much she dislikes the pugs?” whispered Sebastian. When Georgina shook her head, he added, “Well, I can.”
“Oh, they can go with you anywhere,” the marchioness countered. “Lady Drayton rigged up such a cunning little sling to carry hers about. I’ll send you the design along with the puppy. Do you prefer a dog or a bitch?”
“You are so kind, but I really have to refuse. You must have so many people waiting eagerly for one of your puppies.”
“Let ’em wait. They’re not family.”
“Irresistible force meets immoveable object,” murmured Georgina.
“Care to make a wager on who wins out?” he whispered back.
“I have no idea how to choose.”
“I’d back Mama against anyone.”
“My mother told the queen that she was overfeeding her dog, at her court presentation,” Georgina informed him. She nodded in response to Sebastian’s surprised look. “We’d better move on, or she will pull us into the argument,” she murmured.
Their fathers were seated together a little further down the room. “Offa had vision,” the marquess was saying. “Kind of fellow who’d be building railways and canals today. Able to organize large projects and carry them out, you see. Change the very landscape.”
“I do see,” replied the duke. “That is an interesting perspective on the matter.”
Georgina’s father beamed. “I’ll take you out to the Dyke tomorrow. Show you what I mean.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
“They seem to be getting along,” whispered Georgina as they moved on. “I must admit I’m surprised.”
“My father is interested in all kind of topics.”
“They have that in common then.”
The Gresham brothers had congregated around a low table where they’d assembled a large selection of food and a couple of bottles of champagne. Bent over their booty, they didn’t see Sebastian and Georgina stroll close. “All right, Robert,” Nathaniel was saying. “Enough. What the deuce is wrong with you?”
“Leave me alone,” growled Robert.
“Well, I won’t. You’ve been touchy as a bear with a thorn in its paw since we met up in Cheltenham.”
“Drinking deep, too,” said Alan.
“Robert was?” said Randolph. “That’s not like you, Robert.”
“What do any of you know about me?” Robert snapped.
Sebastian and Georgina exchanged a puzzled glance as Nathaniel said, “A good deal. After observing you for all of your twenty-eight years.”
“Don’t come all elder brother on me.” Robert snatched up one of the bottles and left the group to sit by himself, filling his glass with a defiant flourish.
“Ariel says he’s in love with Flora Jennings,” Alan remarked. “Robert says she’s dead wrong.”
“I suppose Robert would know better about a thing like that,” Randolph said.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” replied the youngest Gresham brother dryly.
“Well, and what if he is in love?” asked Nathaniel. “Why should that make him so touchy? You can’t even speak to him these days.”
“Miss Jennings doesn’t like him.”
Nathaniel blinked in surprise. “Everyone likes Robert,” he replied. “He practically defines the word likable.”
“Liking isn’t love,” Alan said.
“Well…no. It isn’t, is it?” Nathaniel gazed at his wife for a long moment.
“Wait,” put in Sebastian. “Flora Jennings. Isn’t she Aunt Agatha’s daughter? Met her once, last spring in London.”
Alan nodded, his blue eyes glinting with humor.
“Aunt Agatha’s daughter?” exclaimed Randolph. “Is she six feel tall and terrifying, like her mother?”
“Not at all,” said Alan. “She’s quite engaging and pretty. Very well educated, too.” He obviously approved of the latter. “And Agatha Jennings isn’t six feet tall, by the way. Quite a pleasant lady, really.”
“A bluestocking? Robert in love with a bluestocking?” Randolph turned to look at Alan.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what he is,” Alan replied. “But I do know he’s been unlike himself for weeks.”
The rest of them contemplated this in silence.
“Anyone know where he’s headed from here?” Nathaniel asked.
“House parties, I imagine,” said Randolph. “That’s what he does in the winter, isn’t it?” His tone was a bit envious.
Sebastian pressed Georgina’s arm lightly, and they moved on. She saw that Hilda, Edgar, and Emma were sitting with Mr. Mitra, which was gratifyingly kind and polite of them. As they moved closer, Edgar rose and edged toward the Gresham brothers’ group. She was happy to see them welcome him. He sat next to Alan.
“People may believe what they like,” they heard Mitra say as they passed the three remaining. “What they feel as truth in their hearts. But I feel that they must take some care about what they call it. An individual has no right to imply that a practice is…Hindu, for example, when they have…” He paused as if searching for words. They did not appear to come easy. “Made it up,” he finished finally.
“Like Joanna did,” said Hilda.
Mitra nodded. “Your Miss Byngham is a most enthusiastic and sincere person. I admire that in her. I wish her well. But her rituals are her own. You understand me?”
Hilda nodded. “I’ll tell anyone who asks about it.”
“Thank you” was the grave response.
