by Heather Boyd
Fanny caught her arm. “You have to tell me all about it. Was it embarrassing? Did anyone else see him do it?”
Rebecca smiled quickly. “Some other time. I don’t want to miss a moment of the ceremony. We had better hurry along to join the guests.”
They slipped into the crowded room and separated. Fanny went right and Rebecca to the left. She had promised to stand with Lady Ava for the ceremony.
The girl seemed relieved to see her. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you. Not long now,” Rebecca promised, and then placed her hands on Lady Ava’s shoulders to hold her still.
Rafferty noticed and nodded his approval. “She’s a little excited, I’m afraid.”
“I’ve never been to a wedding,” Ava confided, looking up at her.
Rafferty nudged the groom. “Almost time.”
Whitfield looked a little wild about the eyes when he turned around to view the gathering, and Rebecca’s grin widened. The poor man seemed worried when there was no reason to be. The harder parts of marriage came later.
Lady Ava wriggled closer, and Rebecca put a restraining arm about her shoulders. “Be still now. I don’t want to miss a moment.”
At some signal from the door, Rafferty propelled Whitfield toward the vicar.
When Jessica appeared on Father’s arm at the doorway, a collective sigh swept through the room. Father’s eyes were thankfully dry, and Jessica’s smile was unrestrained as she approached her future husband.
When Jessica and Whitfield met before the vicar, Rafferty stepped back to stand beside Rebecca. She glanced at his waistcoat, pleased to see he had chosen to wear something more appropriate today.
Seeing Jessica about to marry the man she loved instantly swept Rebecca back in time. She was reminded that her own wedding day had been a much quieter and more somber affair than this. She had been a nervous bride, especially so after her father’s outpouring of emotion. She had almost cried, too, but the marriage had been expected for her. She’d done her best to secure the right husband but failed.
Jessica was undoubtedly the lucky one. She was not nervous at all. She’d live close to her family for the rest of her life.
She felt a touch against her fingers, and since no one could possibly see it, she allowed Rafferty to hold her hand during the ceremony because she suddenly felt the need for support. Rebecca had married a severe man who had exhibited great reserve in public. It was only later that she’d discovered his flaws and the selfish scoundrel he really had been. She would not make the same mistake the next time she married. If she married anyone, they would have to prove they could put her needs first.
Rebecca nodded as the happy couple completed their vows.
And then it was done. The last Westfall was married. The bride and groom exchanged a chaste kiss then turned to face their well-wishers.
Rice suddenly rained down over the pair, and Rebecca enjoyed Whitfield’s shocked expression. “That was my idea,” she told Rafferty.
“I like how stunned he looks,” he admitted as he let go of her hand.
Rebecca waited her turn to congratulate the couple impatiently. She addressed her first words to Whitfield. He was her new older brother, after all. “Congratulations, Gideon, and welcome to the family.”
He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Becca. My dear sister.”
She smiled, congratulated Jessica with a kiss to her cheek, too, and then moved back so others could speak to the happy couple. She collided with Rafferty almost immediately. “A beautiful ceremony,” she murmured after apologizing for not noticing him.
“Indeed it was. For a moment there I thought Whitfield might actually faint.”
“He’s made of sterner stuff than that,” Rebecca promised, smiling down at Lady Ava, who was grinning madly. “After all, he is related to the Westfalls now. Westfalls do not ever faint.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rafferty’s hand settled at the base of her spine briefly. “Where to next?”
She shivered. “Drinks in the garden so the dining tables can be set up in here.”
“I’ll help encourage everyone outside, shall I?” he offered.
She nodded, pleased to have his assistance. Dealing with society was akin to herding cats sometimes. “I will circulate with Lady Ava then send her back to the nursery?”
“Please do,” Rafferty murmured. He kissed his daughter’s head. “I will come for you just before the wedding breakfast begins. All you will miss is boring talk.”
“All right,” Lady Ava grudgingly agreed.
Rebecca took up the girl’s hand so they didn’t become separated and led Ava around the local guests. She introduced the girl to a few people she should know already by now but didn’t. Ava charmed everyone she met and seemed to soak up every word Rebecca spoke about her. By the time they reached the hall, Rebecca was very sorry they had to part. She handed the girl over to her own maid, who’d come down to peek at the wedding, too. “Leave her in that dress but cool her face, please.”
“Yes, madam,” Nancy promised before taking the girl away.
A servant hurried toward her, appearing quite agitated. “Excuse me, madam.”
“What is it?”
“A visitor is waiting to speak with you in the Peach Drawing Room. I’m afraid they are not on the guest list.”
“A visitor. Now? Who?”
“A Mr. Peter Warner presented his card just as the ceremony began and demanded to see you. I put him off until now. What shall I do with him?”
Rebecca gasped. She was expected back inside for the party, but she could not neglect her brother-in-law. She hadn’t spoken to Peter Warner in over two years and had no idea what he might want with her. “I will see him. Would you inform her grace that I have been detained by a member of my late husband’s family? Tell her I will return as soon as I can but if I don’t appear in an hour to begin the breakfast without me.”
Rebecca had hoped now that the marriage had taken place that she could enjoy the fruits of her efforts for the rest of the evening in relative peace. But family always came first. She squared her shoulders and walked briskly toward the meeting. The timing of Peter’s arrival could not have been worse.
Peter Warner stood in the center of the room and smiled when she approached. He had always been a thin, ambitious man, and since inheriting her late home and the entirety of her husband’s estate, barring her jointure, he had not changed one bit. He had argued about her marriage settlement, claiming a duke’s daughter hardly required an income of her own. He had assumed she would return to live with her own family. Peter reminded her of her late husband far too much.
“Mr. Warner.”
“Mrs. Warner.”
She curtsied, and he offered a brief nod instead of bowing. Rebecca overlooked the insult implicit in his actions and begged him to sit. “What brings you to Stapleton, sir?”
“I should ask you the same?” he said as he took a place beside her. “Last I heard, you were gadding about London.”
“My time was better spent than that. My sister made her presentation at court, and I was there to support her.” But she had to wonder when Peter Warner had ever cared about what she did. After her husband’s shocking infidelity had become widely known, he’d been the first to place the blame squarely on her shoulders. “I always come home at this time of year. I’ve been here for weeks now.”
Peter Warner blinked. “Is that so?”
“Yes, always.” She drew closer to him. “Is something the matter?”
“No. Perhaps it is nothing. I am on my way to London, so I thought I should drop by and see if you were here.”
“That is kind of you to call, but unfortunately you’ve arrived on a momentous day.”
Peter leaned closer as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Is the duke hosting another of his little parties?”
She nodded. She didn’t like it when Peter got too close, or any man bar Rafferty, now. She had too much h
istory with Peter to believe he was talking to her as a brother or even a friend. “There was a wedding today.”
He looked at her sharply. “Whose?”
“My youngest sister has married our neighbor, Mr. Whitfield, and they were just made man and wife as you arrived. It will not be long before the wedding breakfast is to begin.”
“I suppose you had a hand in making the match,” he suggested, sitting down as if he planned to stay a while. “You were always so keen to pair people together, weren’t you?”
Rebecca sat reluctantly. She had tried to match Peter with a good woman once, but he had not been interested in what she’d had to say. She’d heard he’d married since her husband had passed, but she’d not met the woman. “Not at all. My sister and Mr. Whitfield realized their mutual admiration had become love and matched themselves, really.”
“Love?” Peter scoffed at the idea. “Or is it the meeting of two great fortunes.”
“Money had had nothing to do with Jessica’s choice of husband. How is everyone at home?”
He looked displeased by her question but shrugged. “Quite well. We manage very well without your interference.”
She refused to let that remark upset her. She’d been happier without her husband’s family in her life too. “I’m glad.”
Warner talked then of the estate crops thriving, the home farm a storm had wreaked havoc across, fields of barley harvested months ago, and a dozen small things that mattered little to Rebecca now. Once upon a time, she would have cared a great deal. She would have worked day and night to make sure everything ran smoothly.
Not that her efforts had ever been appreciated. “You have had your hands full.”
“Yes, indeed. It’s been a profitable year so far.”
She hoped he would leave soon. “And now you’re at leisure to travel again. How marvelous.”
Peter studied her. “Have you had any dealings lately with the solicitor. I assume you still have your business with Barclay.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I had a letter from him this week,” she enthused. “He’s in excellent health.”
“What was the nature of the letter?” he asked, sitting forward.
His sudden question caught her off guard momentarily. Rebecca was not comfortable discussing anything about her finances, least of all with Peter.
“Nothing of importance,” she said cautiously. Although they shared the same solicitor in London, what happened in her life was none of Peter’s business. “He sent the usual quarterly report. I imagine you might have received yours recently too.”
“I did and I will be questioning him about the contents when I see him.”
Rebecca gulped. “Is there a problem?”
“Possibly.” Peter frowned. “It may be nothing but I think it would be in our best interests to keep a closer watch on Barclay and how he manages our finances. There have been too many mistakes for my liking.”
Rebecca gaped. “You too?”
Peter nodded but then suddenly stood up. “I should take my leave of you so you can get to the party.”
Rebecca stood, too, feeling nothing but relief he was taking himself away. “Thank you for coming to warn me, Mr. Warner.”
He studied her again. “I was only doing my duty. My brother would have wanted me to look out for you in this. Good day, madam.”
A servant was waiting just beyond the threshold and showed him the way to the front door.
Once he was gone, Rebecca sank into a chair and put her head in her hand. Peter would never seek her out if he had any doubts about his suspicions. She would be wise to listen to him and return to London as soon as possible. She could leave at dawn tomorrow.
Chapter 13
Adam slapped Whitfield on the shoulder while he surveyed the flock of guests spilling out across the lawn. It was a merry group indeed, but he couldn’t see Rebecca anywhere, and he was starting to wonder what had waylaid her. “How are you holding up, my friend?”
“Better than I imagined,” Whitfield admitted quietly.
“Good. Good. I think your induction to the Westfall family is going very well,” he joked.
Whitfield arched one brow. “Is that what this is?”
“I’m told one of the first rules of being a member of the Westfall family is to never faint,” Adam admitted.
“You’d fail then. I heard all about your little spell after the carriage accident from Stapleton himself.”
Of course, Stapleton had shared everything with Whitfield. They hardly kept secrets from each other. “The second rule is never to discuss any lapses of the first rule.”
Whitfield laughed. “Is that written down anywhere?”
“I’m sure it must be. Becca will know.”
“Becca, is it?” Whitfield turned, and his expression hinted at a grin. “That’s not the first time you’ve spoken her name like that. I thought only the family dared.”
“I like to live dangerously.” Adam shrugged. “Rebecca simply does not suit her.”
“And Becca does? I doubt she’d agree with you.”
Adam smiled. “She never does. Where is she, by the way? I hope the intoxication of calling you brother for the first time didn’t cause her to swoon and fail the first rule of being a Westfall.”
Whitfield shook his head, laughing again. “I’m not at fault. I heard her brother-in-law has come—without warning or invitation, I might add. She’s with him now.”
“I hope it is nothing serious.”
“I wouldn’t know or dare ask her. But I know Rebecca’s not on the best of terms with them, so I hope he goes away soon. Jessica is not happy about the delay. Her grace has held back the start of the wedding breakfast on account of Rebecca’s absence.”
Adam cursed under his breath. Damn the Warner family. They were keeping Rebecca from having any fun. That was not right. “That reminds me, I’d better go fetch my daughter before she thinks I’ve forgotten her. Excuse me.”
Adam left the guests, but instead of fetching Ava straight away, he prowled the manor instead, dodging servants who were rushing to set up the rooms for dining.
He found Rebecca sitting alone with her head in her hands.
It looked like Mr. Warner had already gone. Concerned, he stepped into the room and closed the doors behind him.
Rebecca must have heard him because she lifted her head. Her smile was tentative. “What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way up to fetch Ava and saw you sitting here alone, so…”
Her brow rose. “Ava is upstairs, at the other end of the house, Rafferty.”
He winked, and then swooped down to kiss her pretty lips in the hope of seeing her smile again. “The duchess is holding the wedding breakfast until you are free to join us.”
“Oh, I asked her not to do that,” Rebecca complained.
“Of course you did. But we wait for your company regardless.” He caressed her cheek. “What did Peter Warner want with you that makes you look so sad?”
She drew back, frowning. “I’m not sad.”
And still, she shut him out. “I’d never tell anyone what you said to me in confidence. I’d take your secrets to the grave.”
She smiled quickly. “There really is no great secret to share. Peter is on his way to London and came to say hello. He said he felt it was his duty to call on his brother’s widow. He spent barely twenty minutes with me, and then he decided to continue on his way.”
“Perhaps he did not want to delay your return to the party?”
“I’m sure that was it.” She stood, hands spread wide. “I really don’t mind such a brief interruption.”
“You’re not close then?”
“We haven’t spoken in nearly two years. I haven’t even met Peter’s wife.”
Men did not visit women they did not like—not unless they wanted something from them. Adam was perplexed by her account of the visit. “He sounds like an odd fellow,” Adam said eventually, and then held out his arm. “The party a
waits you, madam.”
“Yes, true.” She looked at his arm and shook her head. “It was kind of you to worry about my whereabouts but shouldn’t you collect your daughter now?”
“Ah, yes. Ava will never forgive me if I forget her.”
“I wouldn’t forgive you, either,” she warned.
Adam laughed and stole one more kiss. “I shall go and fetch my daughter as my lady commands then. See you soon.”
Adam rushed upstairs to the nursery, where Ava would no doubt be looking out for him.
Instead, he found her standing in the center of the large room, clutching a handful of papers and with her arm outstretched. “Turn now,” she cried, and the children hurried to do her bidding—some with disastrous consequences.
Some of the children were very young and very uncoordinated. Soon they were laughing so much, most toppled over. Ava stood in the center of it all, hands now planted on her hips. She ordered them all to get back up and try again.
Bemused by his daughter’s behavior, Adam watched in silence for several minutes. Ava had clearly found her feet on this visit. The twins had her surrounded but they did not seem at all dangerous to her. He was glad because she might be seeing more of the pair very soon if he had his way.
He almost hated to take her away to the wedding breakfast, but he’d made a promise. “Ava,” he called softly.
“Oh, you’ve come at last,” Ava cried. She handed her papers to a nearby maid and then rushed to his side. “Where is Mrs. Warner?”
“Waiting downstairs for us both,” he promised.
Ava waved to the children left behind and pulled him along toward the staircase.
“What were you doing back there?”
“Teaching everyone to dance. Mrs. Warner has been giving us lessons each day but she couldn’t today because of the wedding.”
He laughed. “Mrs. Warner gave you a chore?”
“I asked for something for us to do.”
Adam chuckled. If, or rather when, he married Rebecca, Ava would definitely pick up more and more of her managing habits.
He brought Ava to her chair and sat down beside her just as the first course was served. Unfortunately, Rebecca had seated herself far from him and Ava. His daughter waved to her, and so did Adam without really thinking about it.
