Page 18 of A Marriage is Arranged

The Houses of Parliament were in session until the beginning of July and the newlyweds were not to leave the capital until it went into recess. Then they would go to Overshott, the family estate in Middlesex. They were therefore now on their way to Shrewsbury House for the wedding breakfast. The ball introducing the new Countess to the ton would be in two weeks. In the meantime, according to convention, they would be left alone.

There was silence in the carriage for the first part of the ride. Gradually, though, Louise came to her senses and was just thinking she should say something when her husband (would she ever be able to call him that?) spoke.

“That went off well, I think,” he said. “One has heard it all many times before, of course, though it’s rather different when it applies to oneself.”

“Have you been to a lot of weddings, then? I’ve only been to one or two.” Louise tried to speak calmly.

“Yes, I’m probably the last of my set to get married. Most of my friends succumbed years ago.”

His words appealed to her sense of humor. “You make marriage sound like a disease!” she smiled. “Though if you think about it, perhaps it is. The actual joining together part is very short. It’s really only a few lines. Like a disease, the initial exposure may be brief but the effects linger on. ”

He looked at her, and saw the corners of her lips turned up and the humor in her eyes. Her sense of humor was appealing, and she certainly looked much better than usual. He smiled back. “Yes, I chose the word without thinking, but you make me see the justice of it.”

So it was in good humor that they arrived at Shrewsbury House. The servants were all ranged outside down the sides of the broad white steps to welcome the bride to her new home. Louise squared her shoulders and looked up at her husband. He took her arm and led her up the steps beside him. Lisle and Mrs. Smith she already knew. Rose was there, of course, but the others, like the people in the church, were a sea of faces.

In a carriage on the opposite side of the street Diane Courtland watched the couple. Even from that distance, the country mouse looked much better than she remembered. She had not, of course, been invited to the wedding breakfast, and she had not dared go to the church. Gareth would have been furious to see her there, and she wasn’t ready to break with him just yet. But she couldn’t resist driving to Shrewsbury House to catch a glimpse of them. She saw the bride’s presentation to the household and ground her teeth. That should have been her! She drove home and, unable to contain her anger and frustration, sat down to write a note to Lord Youngbrough.

The housekeeper took the new Countess upstairs to her rooms and left her to refresh herself. In a few minutes her mother arrived and spent some time walking around the rooms commenting enthusiastically on everything she saw.

“My goodness, Louise,” she said, “I am green with envy. I am looking forward to staying with you here in London and having many a long cose with you in this pretty boudoir. How fortunate your father made that arrangement with his friend all those years ago! I hope you are truly grateful!”

Before Louise could contemplate either her gratitude or the prospect of this new relationship with her mother, a tap on her door revealed the housekeeper. The guests were arriving and his lordship was waiting.

Louise went down and stood by her new husband’s side in the drawing room as the butler announced their guests. She was at first startled and a little embarrassed to see the deep curtsies and bows she received. But she understood. It’s not me , she said to herself. I am respected because of my rank. I am the Countess. She lifted her chin, smiled calmly, and said a few words of welcome to each of them.

Although she was totally unknown to most of the guests, not one considered her an unreasonable choice for the Earl. Her appearance and demeanor were such that they considered her perfectly suitable. She was not beautiful, but her manner and the few words of greeting she quietly gave all the guests showed she was a lady. Like his lordship, they agreed this was the most important qualification in a wife. Besides, he was no oil painting himself.

Louise did her best to remember the guests’ names. Her caricaturist’s trick of homing in on an unusual feature helped her. Thus Lady Wroxford was the very narrow nose , Lord Plimpton the triple chin , Mr. Pryce the tiny feet and Mrs. Overton the very large hands. The honorable Beau Mainwaring wore creaking corsets and his wife had the bright inquisitive eyes of a terrier. Unbidden, a picture of her came into Louise’s mind. She would draw her standing on her hind legs, a ruff around her neck, a bow in her hair and her eyes shining as if she were expecting a bone. Louise’s own eyes danced with amusement.

She wondered why the Honorable Percy Struthers and his wife Alicia looked at her with vague hostility until the Earl made him known as his second cousin. It was he who had effectively been cut out of the title. As they walked away she heard his sharp-faced wife saying, “She certainly looks pleased with herself. And no wonder, she’s fallen into the honey pot. But elegant gown or no, she doesn’t bring any beauty into the house. Between the two of them, one wonders what on earth the heir will look like!”

Louise had made much the same comment to her mother weeks ago, but it hurt nonetheless. Her husband must have heard it too, but when she glanced up at him, his face was impassive.

When the stream of entering guests had trickled to nothing, the butler said quietly in her ear, “I believe all the guests are here, my lady. The kitchen is ready. May I announce the Breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you Lisle,” she responded at her most formal, and took a deep breath. The first part of the ordeal was over.