Page 113 of A Pure Lady for the Broken Duke

“But how likely is it your husband will find a parish nearby? We are going to lose you eventually.”

Jenny stood up at the table. “Stop, stop, stop. I am only going a few miles away. And both Thomas and I want you to think of Pemberton as your second home. You can all come and visit at any time. Stay as long as you like and be happy that I am marrying well.”

“But we cannot just leave the bakery to stay for a week at your new home.”

“Papa,” Jenny said, “I have explained to you many times, it will not be necessary for you to work so hard. Thomas and George have done so well with their business. They have new horses and people are using their breeding services. They have won or placed in many of the races they have entered. And I have talked to Thomas about providing the family a good living without ever needing to bake again.”

Mama came back from the kitchen, drying her tears. “Jenny, Jenny, duchess or not, remember where you come from. We are bakers, have always been bakers, and will always be bakers. Our customers depend upon us. Who would feed this village if not for us?”

Jenny laughed. “Yes, Mama, I understand. I will not ask you to give up baking forever, just ease up. Work four or five days a week. Take a week off now and then. Our customers will understand.”

Mama reached out and took her daughter’s hand. “Promise me you will not become high and mighty and forget all about us with your balls and trips to London and all that fancy goings on.”

“I promise, Mama.” Jenny then addressed the entire table, “Now, are you all ready for the wedding? Any last-minute wardrobe issues? Claudia, Sally, do you know what you are to do with your hair? Papa, has your dress suit been pressed?”

* * *

It was a glorious May wedding day. The ceremony was to be performed a little unconventionally—but who could be surprised, knowing the principals involved.

Firstly, the wedding was to be performed outside in a beautiful grove of trees not far from Pemberton House. It was possible for all the guests to walk there with little effort. Even Grandmamma walked on Jenny’s mother’s arm, and they sat in the front row together.

Secondly, it was not the grooms who were to wait at the altar, but the brides, standing with their fathers. It had been decided that the grooms would ride up on a pair of their finest racers—to celebrate the success of their many wins—and dismount and walk up the aisle to their brides.

As George and Thomas approached, George whispered to Thomas, “Which bride is mine? They are both so lovely I can barely tell. Want to switch?”

Thomas quietly replied, “Never in a thousand years. I already had a chance at your bride and passed on that, remember,” he said with a chuckle.

The glade where the ceremony was taking place was so beautifully decorated. Many garlands of flowers had been strung amongst the trees and a small orchestra was to the side playing a Handel entrance march as the grooms came forward and stood before their brides.

Grandmamma whispered to Jenny’s mother, “Your daughter is so beautiful, you must be very happy.”

Mama took out her handkerchief, blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “I guess I am.”

Claudia took her mother’s arm and said, “Mama, our Jenny is about to become a Duchess. What do you think about that?”

“Oh, dear, what are we to call our Jenny—Your Grace?”

“No. I think Jenny will be just fine.”

The End?