Page 38 of A Perplexing Regency Romance (The League of Meddling Butlers #5)

The rector had come for him. It was time.

Hugh rose. He walked, one foot in front of the other. He would not look at the crowd, not even the queen, who was bound to be at the front. He would just think about Finella.

After what seemed an hour but was probably a few minutes, Hugh heard the crowds rise behind him. There she was. Finella Fernsby.

Her father and the duchess accompanied her, one on each arm. Hugh hoped they were not actually holding her up. He hoped Seddie would not have to hold him up.

Whatever her nerves were, she was looking positively smashing. There could not be a lovelier lady in London.

The duchess took the bride’s bouquet and removed to the empty seat by the queen. Finella stared at Hugh. He stared at Finella.

The rector began the solemnization of marriage from the Book of Common Prayer.

The man talked and talked. Then he got to the part inquiring into any impediments.

Hugh’s heart froze over the idea that Lucinda might be out in the pews somewhere or hiding in the gallery, intent on making trouble.

Though what reason she could give against the marriage, he did not know.

The church would not have an opinion regarding who was or was not a mushroom.

The moment passed. Then they said their “I wills.” Finella’s voice trembled and he could see that a glass of wine and a biscuit had not entirely settled her.

The rector asked who giveth this woman, and the baron answered. Finally, Finella’s hand was placed in his own. He felt better instantly and he thought she did too. From then on, as she squeezed his hand, they said their vows. Just between them.

They had done it. The rector had droned on with some homily or other, dragging it out in Hugh’s mind.

However, it was to be expected. That part of it was the rector’s performance for the queen and he would not cut it short.

He’d finally run out of steam and Hugh and Finella had practically run out of the church.

They’d done it and neither of them had fallen over.

Inside the carriage, Hugh closed the curtains. They would have twenty minutes of privacy before arriving at the duchesses’ house for the party. He pulled her close. “You see, you have nothing to worry over.”

Finella laughed. “Really? I believe I went blind for a few seconds, then the church seemed too hot, then it seemed too cold. I am sure those in the last pew could see my heart beating through my dress.”

“I was rather a wreck myself,” Hugh admitted. “I did not tell you how I dislike being the center of attention in a crowd, as I thought it would make you even more nervous than you were. It makes me very uncomfortable.”

“We are a couple of asparagus,” she said.

“Asparagus?”

Finella nodded. “It is the most devastating mockery I have ever been able to come up with. As you can see, I am not very clever with such things.”

“We should keep asparagus to ourselves,” Hugh said. “It will be a secret word. That way, if we need to use it around other people, nobody will know what we’re talking about.”

And so it was. As the years went by, whenever the rare situation occurred where they were inspired to criticize or mock a person, that person was instantly named an asparagus. They did not think they were too unkind about it, as they named each other an asparagus far more often.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Finella walked into the duchesses’ house, no longer Miss Finella Fernsby. She was Finella Finstatten, the Duchess of Greystone. No matter how ridiculous it sounded to her ears, that’s what she was.

As the Duchess of Ralston had planned the luncheon and as the queen attended, it was an elaborate affair. There were select guests at the dining table and the rest of the guests were in the ballroom, which had been transformed with tables and chairs.

Finstatten whispered to her that they could leave as soon as the queen departed. They were to set off for the Lake District this very day. It would take them four days to get there, and they were eager to be on their way.

They would take two carriages, one for her and Finstatten, and the other for Lucy. Her husband’s valet would ride ahead, ensuring the inns were prepared for their arrival. The bags were packed and the staff would be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Lucy had not been exactly bowled over by the arrangements that had been made for the wedding trip.

As the lodge was really only two rooms, a main room and a bedchamber, Lucy was to bunk up with the caretaker’s wife, while the duke’s valet would bunk up with the caretaker.

Finella did not know how her husband’s valet viewed it, but she supposed it was just as grimly as Lucy did.

Her maid felt the accommodations as they had been described did not suit a duchess, and most certainly did not suit a lady’s maid to a duchess.

She would not be able to regale the staff regarding their luxurious accommodations when they returned home.

Finella had soothed her by mentioning that she’d already arranged for her maid’s wages to be increased.

The luncheon passed with toasts, even the queen said a few kind words.

That lady was particularly kind to a newly married couple, as she’d ended with, “I will take my leave now. I understand the duke and duchess will set off for their wedding trip this afternoon and heaven forbid anybody leave before the queen.”

Once her majesty had departed, she and Finstatten made quick work of getting out of the house. Finella kissed her father and thanked the duchess profusely for all her efforts and they were on their way. They were to stop at Luton at The Old Bell for their first night.

Finella supposed she ought to be nervous about the wedding night.

Perhaps she was, at least a little bit. But nothing could approach her nerves in church.

All those people, the queen among them, staring at the back of her head.

She would be forever grateful that she did not faint in a heap.

Finstatten had been there, holding her hand, and she imagined he always would be.

The Old Bell was a fine establishment and Finella was tickled to know that Finstatten had made extensive preparations for their first stop.

They arrived in time for dinner and the private dining room had been reserved.

It was candlelit but rather dim with just two places set.

The innkeeper proudly brought in two bottles of wine.

“As your staff requested, Your Grace, a Riesling from the Schloss-Johannisberg vineyards and the Haut-Brion claret.”

“You remembered I prefer a sweeter wine,” Finella said.

“I will always remember your preferences,” Finstatten said.

They had their dinner and Finella was certain it must have been very good, as the innkeeper kept saying, “As you requested, Your Grace.” It was very hard to keep her mind on it, though. She was married to this wondrous man and they spent most of the dinner staring at one another.

She had drunk three glasses of the wine, which was far more than she usually would. As she had, she fairly floated up the stairs.

Then, the door was shut and they were alone.

There would be no further interruptions from anybody.

Finstatten undid her buttons, which he found a surprising number of.

Then he got to the petticoat and was further surprised to find stays under that.

By the time he got those undone and found a chemise underneath, they were both laughing.

“This is like an unending maze of buttons and ties and mysterious configurations,” Finstatten said.

Finally, the chemise was on the floor. Finella did feel the littlest bit self-conscious. After all, she had never particularly admired her person.

But then the duke had took her in and whispered, “Marvelous.” He was out of his own clothes far faster and they fell into bed with each other.

Finella had no experience at all and the duke had very little. She was an innocent lady, and he most certainly was not a rake. Sometimes, that is best. Two people can discover what they like without any preconceived notions about what they ought to like.

Through much practice, which they were happy to do, they did discover it.

They woke late and ordered breakfast to be sent up and did not set off from the inn until after one o’clock. This habit, carried on from inn to inn, turned their four-day journey into seven. They did not mind it, though the duke’s valet and Lucy may have had other thoughts.

They finally did reach the lodge in the lake district.

It was small, as had been described, but it was lovely and private.

The caretaker’s wife, Mrs. Parker, came up every day around noon to make their breakfast in the rudimentary kitchen.

It was always a large one, as they would not eat again until dinner.

Fresh country eggs, bacon from the caretaker’s own pigs, fresh-baked bread, pots of tea and coffee, it was heavenly.

Mrs. Parker usually had some comment to make under her breath regarding the onerous task of having Lucy as a houseguest. In retrospect, Finella realized she could have left her maid at home, as she was little needed. Finstatten had become very expert with her buttons and ties.