As easily as that, Sir Samuel moved on, and whatever lingering reservations she might have had about Henry, Diana’s mother entered into planning the wedding with as much zeal as Lady Weston. With only one month to make all of the necessary arrangements, the two became almost inseparable. The duchess insisted on overseeing all of the wedding preparations, which meant she did none of the work yet managed to express an opinion on everything. And she had an opinion on everything, from the flowers at the church (St. George’s, as Isabella had predicted) to the color of the silk hangings in the gallery at Lansdowne House, the site of the lavish reception that would follow the wedding.
Besides seeing to her dress, Diana found there was very little required of her. Isabella and Olivia insisted that she go to Madame Bessette for her wedding gown. Though the sought-after modiste already had a long waiting list, she promised Monsieur Henri that she would make not only a wedding gown for his betrothed, but an entire trousseau.
Diana tried to protest, but Madame and Henry insisted. Morning dresses, walking dresses, evening dresses, a ball gown—she was to have them all. She also needed matching spencers and pelisses, a heavy cloak, and a riding habit. Madame took the names of Diana’s glover and cordwainer and promised to order gloves and slippers to go with her new ensembles. Madame was also to order—Henry was very clear on this—two dozen shifts and nightgowns of the highest quality, all with ribbons as red as the flush on her cheeks.
He did like to see her blush. Henry wanted to spend their wedding night—any mention of which made her turn red—at Ravensfield, so he was busy setting the place to rights, but he never stayed away too long. On the days he was in London, they chose furnishings for their new home. Henry had bought quite a bit from the Bedford House sale the previous month, but they still needed a lot. As with the clothes, Diana fussed over spending so much money, but she consoled herself that her dowry would more than cover the expense.
Henry did not seem at all troubled at the cost… or by common decency. The first piece of furniture he insisted they buy was a bed, which he claimed was the only truly essential piece. He asked every shop owner whether he had anything larger, which embarrassed Diana to no end.
After he’d dragged her to no fewer than six stores, she lost her patience. Turning to the owner of the store, she asked if there were somewhere private where she might convince her betrothed to see sense. Having perceived that he was dealing with persons of Quality, and still hoping to salvage the sale, the man promptly ushered Henry and Diana into a small room at the back, then quickly made himself scarce.
“You are impossible to satisfy,” she declared mutinously, crossing her arms over her chest. “Perhaps you should order a copy made of the Great Bed of Ware and have done with it!”
He grinned and pulled her into his arms, then set about kissing her frown away. Irritated though she was, in less than a minute she had her arms crossed around his neck instead.
“You’ll soon find,” he told her between kisses, “that I’m no more difficult to satisfy than the next man. Women are the difficult ones to please, but I’ve always enjoyed that particular challenge.”
“How can you say that when I selected a bed for my chamber in the first shop we visited?” she asked indignantly.
“Oh, Di!” He let out a hearty laugh. “I think debauching you will prove the greatest joy of my life. As for the bed you selected, I hope you’re not overly fond of it, for I have no intention of letting you sleep there. You will spend each night by my side—once I have utterly exhausted you in this business of pleasure and satisfaction—which is why we must find a bed large enough that we can sleep comfortably together and conceive all eight of our future children.”
“Eight?” she exclaimed.
His deep laugh sent streamers of warmth unfurling throughout her body.
He looked thoughtful. “Ten?”
“Henry!” She laughed. “Will you be serious?”
“Not if I can help it,” he responded, kissing her again. They were both breathing heavily when he lifted his head. “Well, my dear Miss Merriwether, is the bed we just saw the one in which you want to yell your head off when I give you pleasure, and then again when you birth our eleven babes?”
She blushed and nodded. As they headed back into the store she asked tentatively, “You don’t really want so many children, do you?”
He shrugged. “I always thought I would have a large family, but there’s no need to worry about that yet. Right now, I can’t think beyond wanting you.”
Diana held Henry’s words to her heart. She refused to let herself think beyond the wedding, beyond the wanting and loving of right now. Well, she let herself think a little bit beyond the wedding. What bride did not think about her wedding night?
When the morning of the wedding finally arrived, Diana stared at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. She might have been looking at someone else. The woman looked like her, only prettier. The stranger’s lips were redder, her cheeks pinker, and the color of her eyes was closer to that of dark emeralds than muddy ponds. She glowed with excitement. This was who she wanted to be, who Henry had helped her become.
Unfortunately, the pretty stranger looked no more knowledgeable than Diana felt. Her mother’s maternal advice last night hadn’t been as instructive as Diana had hoped.
“Your grandmother and I weren’t on speaking terms when I married,” she had said, “which is as well, since she would only have berated me for neglecting my duty. Your duty is to yourself, your husband, and the family you will have together. Your grandmother would also have lectured me about the mistake I was making. You are making the right choice. I had my doubts about Weston, but I can see he is devoted to you. You have a very happy future before you. Now, I know you must be nervous, but see if you can sleep a little.”
“What about the rest?” Diana had asked. “You haven’t said anything about the wedding night.”
“Oh!” The horrified look on her mother’s face had been almost comical. “I don’t think that is necessary.”
“But—”
“Your husband will teach you what you need to know,” her mother had promised her, and that had been her final word on the subject.
Diana had no doubt Henry could teach her a great many things. The man could steal her control and give her pleasure that took her outside herself. She wanted to know if she could do the same to him.
She tilted her head at the mirror, attempting to find her most seductive angle.
“Bouge pas!” A sharp tug on Diana’s hair accompanied the reprimand, warning her of the consequences should she keep fidgeting. As Diana’s maid, Ellie, had traveled to Ravensfield earlier in the week along with Diana’s trunks, the duchess had tasked Martine with dressing Diana’s hair for the wedding. “Qu’est-ce que vous faites?”
Diana sighed. If Martine couldn’t tell what she was doing, it clearly wasn’t working. “I want to please my husband.”
“He wishes you to make faces dans le miroir?”
“No, of course n— Ouch!” Diana’s laugh earned her another tug on her hair. She watched Martine’s reflection thread white and silver satin ribbons through curls she had twisted into a complicated arrangement. Though the woman must be close to her grandmother’s age, she looked much younger. Along with her native language, Martine had retained the French joie de vivre. Diana wondered just how much life she had enjoyed.
“Were you ever married, Martine?”
“Hélas, I had not that pleasure, but I would trade places with you tonight.” The older woman’s eyes twinkled. “Il est très beau.”
Diana flushed. “Yes, he is very handsome.” She bit her lip. “Martine, if… if this were your wedding night, would you know what to do? Is it true that all Frenchwomen are born knowing how to seduce men?”
Martine smiled at her in the mirror as she placed the final pins into Diana’s hair. “Et voilà,” she said, stepping back. “Ma chère, it is for your husband to seduce you, non?”
&n
bsp; “No.” Diana shook her head. “I mean, yes, he should, but he… He knows just how to kiss me, how to… to touch me so I forget everything and everyone but him. I want to be able to do that to him. I know men are always more eager for the bedding than the wedding, but Henry is particularly excited for tonight. He wants it to be perfect. I try not to think about the women in his past, but I can’t always help myself. I’m certain all of them knew how to please a man. Mother wouldn’t tell me anything, so I—” She stopped when Martine held up her hand.
“Your husband will enjoy your innocence. Men like to teach their women. They feel plus masculin et plus viril. But as your maman did not prepare you, I will tell you les essentiels, assez bien? You will listen as I help you dress.”
Martine’s information had been more than good enough. Diana only understood about half of the rapid jumble of English and French, though she wasn’t sure whether her problem was a lack of vocabulary, imagination, or both. The acts described alternately shocked and intrigued her, but Martine assured her that certain kisses made all men lose control.
Diana felt convinced all of it would make her lose control. The things he would do to her. The things she could do to him. Just listening to Martine left her shivery and tight with anticipation. And those were only the essentials of bedding… Heavens, what more could there be? Her face flamed as wicked thought after wicked thought teased at her mind. Her mother, thank goodness, attributed her rosy cheeks to excitement and nerves over the impending ceremony.
Her color was still high as she waited with her brother in the antechamber of St. George’s while the guests and parishioners took their seats. Though she regretted her grandfather’s poor health, she was glad Alex would be the one to walk her down the aisle. He’d ridden down from Cambridge a few days earlier, and his happiness over the marriage rivaled her own. At times, she thought his enthusiasm actually surpassed hers.
There were days when she’d had misgivings. Loving Henry had not erased sixteen years of doubts and fears. She was happier than she remembered ever being, and that terrified her because she had more to lose. There was no question that she wanted to marry Henry; she wanted every minute she had with him. She was simply less sanguine about the fifty-plus paradisiacal years he foresaw for them.
Alex had no such qualms. He was like a child with the lure of a new toy. Did Diana think Henry would give him pointers in the ring at Jackson’s? Would his new brother-in-law go with him to Tattersall’s to help him choose a new hunter? Might he stay with them during his Christmas holiday? Diana had laughed and promised to speak to Henry on all accounts. She suspected she would soon see much more of her brother, which pleased her greatly even if Alex would not be coming to see her.
Isabella poked her head in the room. Not having a sister, Diana had asked Isabella to stand up with her. Isabella had burst into tears, but Diana was growing accustomed to that. Her future sister-in-law had already made good use of the handkerchief clutched in her hand.
“They’re almost ready,” Isabella whispered loudly. “You wouldn’t believe how full the church is! I’ll be back soon.”
“I believe it,” Alex announced with brotherly candor. “The ton won’t believe this match is happening until they’ve seen— Ouch!” he exclaimed as Diana pinched his arm.
“Do keep in mind that I’ve promised to speak with the other half of this unbelievable pairing on your behalf,” she reminded him.
He grinned at her. He had their mother’s coloring, with dark curls and long-lashed gray eyes. Someday, Diana thought, he would break nearly as many female hearts as his future brother-in-law.
Alex squeezed her hand. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?”
“Do you suppose flattery will save you?” she retorted, nonetheless warmed by the compliment. Still tinged with the blush of desire and graced by the natural radiance of a woman in love, she knew she’d never looked better than she did at this moment.
To add to her glory, Madame Bessette had created a gown fit for a princess. Made of fine white satin, the dress was simple and elegant, just as Diana had asked. Silver lace peeked out from the neckline and the cuffs of the elbow-length sleeves. The lace was dreadfully scratchy, but it looked so beautiful she was willing to suffer the discomfort.
The modiste hadn’t restrained herself very well in terms of embellishing the gown, but Diana didn’t mind at all. Madame Bessette’s creations were, indeed, works of art. Silver embroidery and glass beads transformed the scalloped hem of the gown into shimmering waves. Swans, also wrought in silver embroidery, glided upon the glittering water, and in their beaks, they carried oak branches. Not only had the modiste included elements from both family’s coats of arms, she’d selected the perfect designs for a wedding gown. The Halswelle oak symbolized endurance and strength, while the swans from the Weston crest represented love and fidelity. Diana glanced down at the intricate work for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. Yes, it still stole her breath.
“It’s time,” Isabella informed them as she stepped into the room. She gave Diana a quick hug. “Brace yourself. Hal is looking very handsome today. Not as handsome as James, of course, but some of the female guests are already weeping into their handkerchiefs, and the only sentiment they’re overcome with is envy.”
She picked up the bouquets laid on a nearby table and handed the larger one to Diana. “I hope you like your bouquet. Hal was very particular that you must have day lilies and orange blossoms.”
“It’s perfect,” Diana said truthfully. Tears had threatened earlier when she’d first seen it. She hadn’t asked for anything in particular because, truly, all she cared about was marrying Henry, but he loved her enough to care for her. She’d known at once that he’d had a hand in choosing the flowers. Isabella carried yellow day lilies, while Diana’s bouquet had white day lilies, lilies of the valley, and orange blossoms.
Though she would never admit it to anyone, even Henry, there was a tiny part of her that grieved her father’s absence. She didn’t actually want him there, and she knew he’d given her away years ago, but she couldn’t help missing him on this particular day. The lilies helped; they gave her a bit of him, a happy memory to cling to as she walked down the aisle.
“Come along,” Isabella urged. “We mustn’t keep the anxious groom waiting.” She winked and stepped out into the church.
“Are you ready?” Alex asked as he held out his arm to her.
She smiled at him as they walked to the center aisle. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”
As the organist began to play, Diana reflected that it was nothing short of a miracle that she’d come to this point. Looking back, she could never have imagined this for herself. Looking forward, though, she saw only Henry.
He waited at the front of the church with Lord Dunston standing beside him as the best man. They were both handsome men, but Diana thought Isabella needed spectacles if she considered her husband the better looking of the two. Henry was, quite simply, splendid.
The ceremony passed in a blur. Diana only realized she was married when Henry took her in his arms and kissed her more thoroughly than was proper in a house of God. In contrast, the reception at Lansdowne House dragged on. After more than two hours of standing beside Henry, greeting guests, and agreeing on her remarkable good fortune, Diana had had enough.
When all the guests had assembled in the gallery, her grandfather gave a long, rambling toast to the newly married couple. It was the most Diana had ever heard him speak. Then Lord Weston gave a speech. Lord Dunston followed him. Throughout it all, Henry never left her side, and scarcely a moment passed without his hands on her.
An arm around her shoulders. His palm against her lower back. His fingers twirling the curls at her nape. So, while Diana was very touched by all the wishes for health and happiness and prosperity, she could only concentrate on how Henry touched her. On how he would touch her. On all of the touching Martine had described.
She turned to Alex, who sat on her other
side. “If you dare make a speech, you can forget spending Christmas with me.”
“Beg pardon?” said Henry.
“I’ll tell you later. Alex!” she hissed as her brother rose to his feet.
“I, too, wish to felicitate the happy couple,” he announced to the room. “Though we can’t choose our siblings, I’ve always considered myself fortunate to have Diana as a sister, and her new husband is exactly the older brother I would have picked for myself. I’m certain the newlyweds are anxious to be off to their new home, so I propose we save them the trouble of saying their good-byes and raise our glasses to bid them farewell. To my new brother and my sister, Mr. and Mrs. Weston, God grant you long life and happiness. Now, be off with you.”
The guests laughed as they repeated his final words.
“Thank you,” she told Alex as she and Henry rose to make their escape.
“Christmas,” he replied, raising his glass in her direction.
Diana stopped only to thank her grandparents, then went directly to change into her traveling costume, another of Madame Bessette’s exquisite creations. When she came downstairs, she found her mother waiting in the entrance hall.
“You didn’t think you could leave without saying good-bye? Oh—” She put her hand over her eyes. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”
“Stop,” Diana pleaded, “or you’ll make me cry, too.”
Her mother pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at the tears she couldn’t hold back. “I’m so very happy for you and so very proud of you. Your husband isn’t the man I imagined for you; he is much more than I hoped. I’d forgotten how to hope for men like him.”
Diana wrapped her arms around her mother. “I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you. Go on, your husband is waiting outside for you.”
Diana beckoned the footman carrying her portmanteau to follow her as Snellings hurried to open the front door. Henry stood by an unfamiliar carriage talking to his manservant, who was in the coachman’s seat.
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