Page 37 of A Perplexing Regency Romance (The League of Meddling Butlers #5)

Finella had no intention of wandering off into a wood so it sounded perfect to her.

It would be the perfect antidote to the frenzy of the wedding.

The duchess had shielded her from the frenzy as much as possible, but now her part had come.

The duchess could not shield her from standing at the altar in front of a crowd.

Lucy helped her into her dress, which had been specially designed by Madame Beaumont. It was a lightweight velvet in a very pale and soft yellow with very subtle daffodils embroidered round the neckline. It felt like spring and sunshine and everything happy.

“Gracious, now look at that dress,” Lucy said. “Not like the bows and ruffles and sparkles you started with.”

“I am done with trying to distract the eye, Lucy. The duke prefers me as I am, and the duke’s opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Aye, but there’ll be ladies sittin’ in them church pews what are wantin’ to kill you for that hair. Mark me, I know women.”

This was the first Finella had heard about Lucy knowing women, but she was cheered by the idea nonetheless.

“Your pa is downstairs already, he’s dressed very fine, he looks every inch a baron,” Lucy said.

“I told him I was sorry I could not act as a housemaid in his house now that I am lady’s maid to a duchess.

He was very kind about it. He went so far as to say he would not try to keep me from the opportunity for all the world. ”

Finella pressed her lips together so she would not laugh.

Lucy had no idea that the baron was delighted to see the back of her.

Her father had arrived in Town three days ago and stayed with his old friend, Sir Robert.

He’d met Finstatten and reported he liked him very much and he was confident that he’d put his daughter in competent hands.

Lucy placed the pearl encrusted tiara on her head.

There was a quick knock. The duchess let herself into Finella’s bedchamber. “Ah, you look perfection, Miss Fernsby. I have brought you a posy to carry, as well as a glass of wine and a biscuit, on the duke’s orders.”

He was really a darling to think of it. The duchess handed her the loveliest little arrangement of daffodils, tied with a pale yellow ribbon and set the wine and biscuit on the dressing table.

“Now, Miss Fernsby, you are not to be nervous. Remember, Middling Margaret once tread the same steps you will take today.”

“Middling Margaret?” Lucy said softly.

“Middling Margaret is me, Lucy,” the duchess said. “I came through it to rule the ton with an iron fist and so will Miss Fernsby. It is the purview of a duchess and a great deal of fun if one manages it right.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Hugh was well aware of Seddie’s habits, and as Seddie was to act as his best man, he’d sent a carriage over for him and given him the wrong time.

Thanks to that planning, his friend arrived to his house early, rather than late.

Seddie took the opportunity to complain about the trickery, but Hugh explained he would have had to drown him in the Thames if he was late.

His friend thought about it and then agreed that arriving early was the better option.

Seddie had handed him a flask in the carriage on the way to St. George’s.

Hugh had no intention of being drunk for his wedding, but he took a swig.

He was to be stared at by hundreds of people, including Queen Charlotte, and he did not like to be the center of attention like that.

He’d hinted to the duchess that perhaps they would not need to invite everybody in the world.

She was distinctly against that idea. He proposed holding the ceremony in his house.

He had a special license so they could have it wherever they liked.

He thought the house would set a limit on how many people.

The duchess was against that too. She insisted on St. George’s.

Hugh was not exactly sure how many people that church could hold, but the duchess seemed to know it.

Aside from the pews, it had a gallery, so probably quite a lot of people.

She told him he was a duke and therefore had obligations.

Furthermore, anybody left off the list would privately seethe over it.

The point was not that anybody would so much like to see him marry, it was that they wished to casually mention to their acquaintance that “the queen was looking very well at the duke’s wedding.

” To not be able to mention it would sting.

He’d said nothing to Finella about his discomfort, as she was already a ball of nerves over it. He had to pretend at viewing it as nothing at all and had promised to hold her up if she looked faint. Hugh hoped she’d had that glass of wine and biscuit that he’d advised.

“So this is it,” Seddie said. “Remember when we were eight and we cut our hands, mixed our blood, and swore we’d never marry? I guess that’s off.”

“That is definitely off. In any case, have you not been attempting to sway Lady Genevieve’s opinion of you for the past two years?”

“Yes, but after the regatta fiasco, I’m probably going to need another year. I think she needs to see a months’ long streak of what she calls ‘maturity of judgment.’”

Hugh thought Lady Genevieve might be waiting longer than a year for that particular streak.

The rector of the church, Mr. Hodgson, met them at the doors. They had arrived well ahead of time as Hugh would not risk being late on account of a horse throwing a shoe or any other delay.

The rector himself would deliver the vows. Hugh had expected nothing less, a rector would hardly pass up the opportunity to perform in front of the queen.

The man led them in and Hugh got his first look at the duchesses’ handiwork. It really looked very good. The outsides of the pews were decorated with arrangements of daffodils and white roses, running all the way up to the altar. The altar itself was adorned with tall vases of white roses.

“Just this way, Your Grace. There is a small anteroom to wait in until the time grows near. It is my experience that a groom can do without standing at the front of the church while his guests file in. It can feel uncomfortable.”

“Clever,” Seddie said. “Maybe I’ll get married here too.”

“When are the expected nuptials to take place, Sir Edward?” the rector asked.

Hugh snorted. Seddie said, “It’s hard to pin down when, at this juncture.”

They sat down and the rector left to supervise whatever needed doing before it was time. He was getting married. The idea had always been a bit of a haunting thing, because as much as he looked, he could not find the lady he wished to wed. Until he met Finella.

Now the only haunting thing was the ceremony in front of all those people. He hoped she was doing well and not dwelling on it.

As the time passed, Hugh could hear the hum of people filling the church. Then there was a sudden silence and the sound of shuffling.

“That will be the queen,” Seddie said.

The organ outside the room began playing a piece by Handel. The rector poked his head in the door. “It is time, Your Grace.”