Page 18 of Better Not Bet a Bluestocking (Ladies of Opportunity #3)
Fernleigh House Gardens
A fortnight later—late afternoon
Nodding at his cousin, Shelby Tellinger , Robyn strolled among their guests as he made his way to the head table beneath the marquee. After two weeks of whirlwind preparations, the day of the promised wedding reception had arrived.
Wearing a shimmering pink and silver gown, with diamonds at her throat, ears, and wrist, Georgine had never been more beautiful.
Robyn curved his mouth in a self-deprecating grin.
He thought that of her every day.
But it was true.
She grew more lovely and precious to him every day in every way.
Though the reason for her forced recuperation at his house might have been reprehensible, he couldn’t regret the circumstances, for the calamity had resulted in happiness he had never dreamed possible.
His heart full of joy, he glanced around again.
A few more than a hundred guests had joined him and Georgine for the belated wedding reception and milled about the manicured gardens sipping champagne, lemonade, or punch.
Hetty Twigg chatted with Matilda and a couple of other ladies. She’d already secured another position—this time as a traveling companion to two spinster sisters. Thanks to her insightful wager, she now possessed a handsome sum and would never be at an employer’s mercy again.
Bully for her.
Reluctant to press charges, Reverend Goodfellow had urged Mrs . Wynecott to retire to Dorchester , far from London and the censure she deserved for her thievery.
In Robyn’s opinion, she suffered too little consequence for her actions, but the reverend insisted on forgiveness and compassion.
If the woman possessed an ounce of wisdom, she would shut her mouth and live out the remainder of her life in obscurity.
In truth, that was as likely as Prinny squeezing into last year’s pantaloons.
The Earl of Wainthorpe raised a hand in greeting, and Robyn returned the gesture.
From across the lawn, the Earl of Renshaw nodded, as did Viscount Sethwick .
The aristocrats who had come to his and Georgine’s defense at Gunter’s Tea Shop had kept their promise to attend the reception. The married chaps had brought their lady wives.
Robyn would be bound, some peeresses had met Georgine before, although they were careful to keep their expressions polite and friendly when he’d introduced them.
It wasn’t entirely impossible that some of those ladies had ventured a wager with the Ladies of Opportunity , but Hades would trumpet Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus before Georgine revealed a single patron’s name.
Her friends remained equally closed-mouthed.
Robyn admired their integrity.
“ Happy , darling?” He nuzzled Georgine’s ear, uncaring that it was not the thing to show affection in public.
Waving her fan, she gave him a siren’s glance. “ You know I am, naughty man. I showed you how much only two hours ago.”
And by all that was holy, Robyn would never regard the library the same.
No , indeed.
An imbecilic grin split his face.
Robyn didn’t give a rap.
He signaled to Bichard , who dutifully rang the gong, indicating the guests should make their way to the supper tables. No longer restricted to an invalid’s diet, Georgine and Mrs . Fennick spent hours planning the menu.
As everyone took their seats, he remained standing behind his chair.
If a man were fortunate, he married only once.
If he were blessed, he would wed for love.
Somehow , Fate has smiled upon him, bestowing both.
He skimmed his gaze over the crowd, smiling at his friends and family, who were there to celebrate with him and his bride.
Claire Granlund sank into a chair beside Aubriella Matherfield , and Quinten Honeybrook promptly sat on Mrs . Granlund’s other side. She slid him an annoyed sideways glance before directing her focus across the table.
What the blazed went on with those two?
Georgine slipped her hand into his.
“ How is your shoulder, darling?” He still worried she would over-exert herself.
“ Stiff , but not sore.” She grinned up at him. “ But then you don’t allow me to carry anything heavier than a feather. The doctor says I need to work on strengthening my arm and shoulder.”
She chuckled, the sound a husky tinkle. “ When I told you about my father’s abusive behavior, Robyn , I did not mean for you to coddle me like an infant.”
“ I know, my love.” He pressed the palm of his hand into the small of her back. “ Forgive me.”
“ Always , darling.” She leaned into his side, adoration etched upon her features.
For him.
The wonder of that rare gift would boggle his mind for the rest of his life.
Once everyone had taken their seats, Robyn raised his wineglass and cleared his throat. “ Ladies and gentlemen.”
Turning their attention toward Robyn and Georgine , everyone stood, glasses in hand.
He took Georgine’s hand.
“ Pray , raise your glasses with me. To my bride, whose grace and constancy outshine every jewel in Christendom . May our days be blessed with harmony, and our hearts ever beat as one. To my beloved wife.”
“ To the bride,” echoed around the tables.
After everyone took a sip, several guests murmured approbations.
“ Hear , hear.”
“ Just so.”
The gentlemen bowed toward Georgine , and the ladies smiled and nodded.
Her eyes shining, Georgine raised her glass. “ To us.”
“ To us, my love.”
But instead of taking a drink of champagne, Robyn brushed his mouth across hers.
“ Forever and always.”
THE END
I hope you enjoyed BETTER NOT BET A BLUESTOCKING and watching Robyn and Georgine’s romantic tale unfold. If you’d like to leave a review, please visit your online bookstore of choice. I would be so grateful.