Page 33

M orning light filtered through the chapel windows, casting prismatic patterns across the ancient stone floor. Meredith stood beside Faith in a small antechamber, making final adjustments to her friend's wedding ensemble.

The Linford family chapel dated back to the Tudor era, its stained glass and carved oak pews bearing witness to generations of aristocratic unions. Today, it would witness something rather different—the marriage of the Marquess's third son to a professor's daughter.

"Stop fidgeting," Meredith chided gently, securing a stray lock of Faith's hair with a pearl-tipped pin. "You look absolutely beautiful."

Faith's reflection in the looking glass revealed both radiance and trepidation.

The ivory silk gown with its delicate lace overlay transformed her from the practical scholar Meredith had known for years into an elegant bride.

The Thornfield pearls gleamed at her throat, their lustrous surface capturing the light.

"I keep expecting someone to burst in and declare the whole thing an elaborate jest," Faith confessed, her fingers twisting together. "That I don't truly belong here, in this chapel, in this family."

"Nonsense," Meredith replied firmly. "You belong wherever you choose to be. And you've chosen Jasper—everything else is merely setting."

Faith squeezed Meredith's hand.

"How do you always know exactly what to say?" Her eyes grew suspiciously bright. "I shall miss you terribly when you return to Oxford. Promise you'll write often?"

"So often you'll beg me to stop," Meredith promised, blinking back her own tears. "But no thoughts of partings today. This is your beginning."

A soft knock interrupted them.

Meredith opened the door to find Lord Sutcliffe standing in the corridor, resplendent in formal attire.

The dark blue superfine coat emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, while his ivory waistcoat and perfectly tied cravat spoke of careful attention to appearance.

For a moment, Meredith could only stare, caught off guard by both his presence and how handsome he looked.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, his eyes moving past her to Faith.

"Jasper asked me to deliver this." He held out a small package wrapped in silver paper. "A wedding gift he wished you to have before the ceremony."

Faith accepted it with a tremulous smile. "How kind of you to bring it, Lord Sutcliffe."

"I'll give you privacy to open it," he said, bowing slightly. But as he turned to leave, his gaze caught Meredith's. "Miss Martin, might I have that word we discussed last evening? There's still half an hour before the ceremony begins."

Meredith hesitated, glancing at Faith, who made a shooing motion with her hands.

"Go on," Faith urged. "I need a few moments of solitude before facing the congregation anyway."

"Very well," Meredith conceded, smoothing the skirts of her best blue silk gown. "But only briefly. I won't leave Faith alone for long today of all days."

She followed Chilton into the corridor, conscious of the curious glances from servants and early arriving guests. He led her toward a small alcove near a window overlooking the chapel gardens, where blooming chrysanthemums added a last burst of autumn colour.

"You look lovely," he said quietly when they were relatively private, his directness catching her off guard. "That shade of blue suits you particularly well."

"Thank you," she replied, wondering if this was the clarification he had been so eager to provide. "Though I doubt you sought me out merely to comment on my appearance."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"No, though the observation seemed worth making nonetheless." His expression grew more serious. "I wanted to speak with you about our last conversation—about conventional and unconventional opportunities."

"I recall it," Meredith said carefully, her heartbeat quickening despite her best efforts to remain composed.

"I fear I expressed myself poorly," Chilton continued, his eyes searching her face. "When I suggested that pursuing education and finding personal happiness need not be mutually exclusive, I was not merely offering a philosophical platitude."

Meredith's breath caught. "What were you offering, then?"

Before he could answer, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Chilton! There you are." Caroline Hurst approached, her expression darkening as she took in the scene before her. "The guests are arriving in earnest, and you're hiding in corners? Really, this behaviour is most improper."

Chilton straightened, his jaw tightening visibly. "We were having a private conversation, Caroline."

"So I see," she replied with a pointed glance at Meredith. "However, Lady Thornfield has been asking after you. Something about the seating arrangements. I suggested you would be attending to your duties rather than socializing."

The emphasis she placed on the final word left no doubt as to her disapproval. Meredith felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she lifted her chin and met Caroline's gaze steadily.

"Lord Sutcliffe was kind enough to deliver Jasper's gift to the bride," she said with perfect composure. "I was just returning to attend Faith."

"How considerate," Caroline replied, her tone suggesting exactly the opposite. She turned to her brother. "Lady Thornfield awaits you in the main hall."

Chilton hesitated, clearly torn between duty and the conversation he had begun.

"We will continue this discussion later," he said to Meredith, his voice low and intent.

"Of course," she replied, though doubt clouded her mind as she watched him depart with his sister, Caroline's hand firmly on his arm as she spoke rapidly in hushed tones.

Meredith returned to Faith, pushing aside her disappointment. Today belonged to her friend, not to her own complicated feelings about a baron who could not seem to decide whether his loyalty lay with family expectations or personal inclinations.

The chapel bells began to toll, signalling that the ceremony would soon begin.

By the time Meredith took her place in the front pew, the small chapel was filled with the rustle of fine fabrics and the murmur of aristocratic voices. From her position, she could see Jasper standing before the altar, his expression a mixture of nervousness and joyful anticipation.

The first notes of music silenced the congregation, and all heads turned as Faith appeared in the doorway.

A collective murmur of appreciation rose as she began her walk toward Jasper, her steps measured, her eyes fixed on her soon-to-be husband.

Meredith felt her throat tighten with emotion at the transformation in her friend's face—all doubt had vanished, replaced by absolute certainty.

The ceremony proceeded with dignified solemnity, the ancient words of the marriage service filling the chapel with promises of fidelity and devotion.

When Faith and Jasper exchanged vows, their voices rang clear and true, without hesitation or reservation.

The moment the vicar pronounced them man and wife, Jasper's face broke into a smile of such pure happiness that Meredith felt tears spring to her eyes.

As the new couple made their way back down the aisle, Meredith caught Faith's glance and returned her radiant smile. There was something different about her friend now—a quiet confidence that had nothing to do with social status and everything to do with being truly cherished.

The wedding breakfast that followed was an elaborate affair held in Linford Park's grand ballroom.

Tables laden with delicacies lined the walls, while servants circulated with champagne and sweet wines.

Meredith found herself seated at a table with several of the scholars, including Captain Peters, who was still animated about the treasure hunt revelation.

"We'll depart for Dorset the day after tomorrow," he informed her eagerly. "Your insight about the longitudinal pattern was nothing short of brilliant, Miss Martin. Have you studied cartography?"

"Only as an amateur interest," she replied. "My father believed in a well-rounded education that included geography and navigation."

"An enlightened view," Dr. Welby commented, his earlier scepticism about female education notably absent. "You would make an excellent addition to our expedition, though I imagine Oxford reclaims you soon?"

"Indeed," Meredith confirmed. "I have responsibilities there that cannot wait."

"Your school project." Captain Peters nodded. "Lady Beaverbrook has spoken highly of it. I should like to make a small contribution myself, if you would permit it. Education and exploration go hand in hand, after all—both expand the horizons of human understanding."

Meredith blinked in surprise. "That's most generous, Captain. I would be deeply grateful for any support."

"Consider it an acknowledgment of intellectual merit," he replied with a smile. "And perhaps an investment in future puzzle-solvers who might otherwise never discover their talents."

As the meal progressed, Meredith found herself receiving similarly unexpected offers of support from the scholarly gentlemen. Not necessarily monetary offers, but support none the less.

“I’d be happy to discuss curriculum with you whenever you’d like,” Lincoln Welby offered generously.

“And once my patent comes through, I’ll happily supply you with slates for your classroom.

I know my wife will be interested in involving herself if you would be so kind to entertain her suggestions. ”

Meredith couldn’t fight the blush of delight over the turn everyone’s attitude had taken. Even Townsend approached, though his interest seemed more personal than philanthropic.

"I trust you'll save a dance for me this evening, Miss Martin," he said, bowing over her hand with unnecessary flourish. "My offer of support for your educational venture stands, of course. Indeed, I find myself increasingly invested in its success."