Page 47 of Bewitching Benedict (The Lovelorn Lads #1)
Her gaze had not left his face, but he could read nothing of her thoughts on her own lovely features.
She was flushed, cheeks rosy and green eyes shining, lips parted, but her expression, while becoming, registered no more than the astonishment she had first presented.
Perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps her kiss had not been warm and welcoming.
Perhaps her anger over the source of his fortune had been simply altruistic.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with him. Perhaps she was astounded because she had never imagined or wanted his proposal.
Perhaps her wonderment was now calculated as she struggled to find a way to reject him in front of three dozen onlookers.
He was very nearly ready to retract it all when she finally spoke.
"Well," said Miss Claire Dalton in considering tones, "if you are disinherited, at least we will have my dowry to rely on…."
Before Benedict could fully understand the import of those words, another roar filled the room.
This time the Lads descended upon himself and Claire, pressing them together, lifting them into the air, and bursting into uproarious cheers when, laughing with shy delight, Claire Dalton leaned over and kissed Benedict on the mouth in front of everyone.
The wedding, Worthington felt, was a profoundly satisfactory event.
Miss Dalton—now Mrs Fairburn—was radiant, clad in cream silk trimmed with innumerable delicate flowers, and young Master Fairburn looked equally dashing in formal black with sharp-cut tails.
The mothers-in-law had outdone themselves and each other, wearing handsome rich jewel shades and admiring one another almost as much as they admired their children.
The Lads had made a preposterously long line of men to stand for Benedict; Miss Dalton had been obliged to call upon Miss Hurst, Miss Fairburn, and an entire host of young ladies from the country to stand up for her due to Master Fairburn having so many on his side.
Worthington had observed this all from a discreet location near the rear of the church, which was beautifully arranged with holly and bright ribbons.
Christmas had passed, and the air was invigorating and not, this early in the day, heavy with rain.
The sky, when the newlyweds emerged beneath it, was blue with slates of grey threatening the horizons, but the winter sunlight warmed petals that were flung over the bride and groom by well-wishers.
A very old lady, her white hair piled high above a face filled with many fine wrinkles, sat imperiously in the carriage at the end of the church walkway.
She wore a splendid grey silk gown with a hood and ribbons at elbow, wrist, and throat, all wholly old-fashioned, casting back half a century in style, and suiting her splendidly.
Its aged formality was also entirely at odds with the bright and rather wicked smile that broke over her face as Benedict Fairburn came to an astonished halt a few steps from the carriage. "Great-Aunt Nancy?"
"I certainly hope so!" Mrs Nancy Montgomery leaned forward to offer her grand-nephew her hand.
He kissed it and she seized his fingers, pulling him up the carriage steps with an obvious strength that belied her aged figure.
Benedict grunted in surprise, got his feet under him in the carriage, and turned to offer Claire Fairburn, who stood in pleasantly astonished confusion, a hand into the carriage.
She climbed up and sat, still stupefied, which appeared to be entirely to Mrs Montgomery's satisfaction.
"Claire, my aunt, Mrs Nancy Montgomery. Great-Aunt Nancy, it's my honor to introduce you to my wife, Claire Fairburn."
"I'm delighted to meet you," Claire said. "I had no idea you would be here. I thought?—"
"That I was dying?" Great-Aunt Nancy demanded loudly enough to be heard everywhere.
"Yes, well, I had to do something to get Benny married off, didn't I?
I had no idea he would do so well, young lady, but I've been itching to meet you since he showed up on my doorstep to cast away my fortune.
" More quietly, but audible to Worthington, who attended to the Daltons' carriage only a few steps away, she continued, "I understand you've been to St Sophia's. "
"Yes," the new Mrs Fairburn replied, startled. "How did you know?"
"Miss Beacham, who runs the Institute, was a friend of mine," Mrs Montgomery said softly.
"I knew her when she was a girl, long before the scandal that ruined her and her family.
I've helped her through the years, but I've never felt that I'd done enough.
Perhaps I'm no better than you said my nephew was," she said with a sharp look at Claire, who forbore to comment.
"I suppose I would have let the money go to Benny and felt only a twinge of guilt, had you not interfered, though I've always known I could have—should have—done better.
So I believe you've made all of our family better, Mrs Fairburn, whether you meant to or not. "
"Thank you," Claire said, though it was unclear if the comment had been intended as a compliment.
Still, Mrs Montgomery smiled, then suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially.
Worthington was obliged to move to the horses' heads and fiddle with their bridles to overhear the remainder of the conversation.
"I have a house in Town, you know," she said.
"A house I never use, having tired long ago of the politics and snubs of Society.
I am giving the house to you, Benny. A wedding gift," the old lady said in triumph as the newlyweds fell back in gasping astonishment.
"Indeed, I have been somewhat bold, and have, over the past few weeks, taken the liberty of having the house refurbished and furnished.
You will forgive me if I insist on driving there with you this morning, so that I can see you see the house for the first time. "
"Of course," Benedict murmured disbelievingly. "I remember your townhouse from my childhood. I remember the gardens, Aunt Nancy. They went on forever. The house was tremendous."
"It still is," Great-Aunt Nancy said in delight, "only now it's modern and finer than ever.
Now, Mrs Fairburn, the house is, of course, yours as well, but I have been considering your activities and your influence on our family and I have decided to make you a wedding gift of your own.
I am giving you a sum of ten thousand pounds, Mrs Fairburn, to do with as you wish.
Be as generous and wise with it as you have been with St Sophia's—yes," she said with satisfied asperity, “I know what assistance you've offered the institute since your engagement—and I shall be pleased beyond measure. "
The new Mrs Fairburn went white, then red, then flung herself forward to embrace Mrs Montgomery with obvious strength.
Mrs Montgomery looked both flustered and thrilled, patting Claire's shoulders in pleasure.
Claire sat back, holding the old woman's hands and smiling until tears ran down both their cheeks, and then, without warning, stood in the carriage to carol, "Priscilla! Mr Graham! Come here at once!"
Mr Fairburn caught her waist to keep her balanced as the Grahams approached.
Priscilla and Jack had married in a quiet ceremony before Christmas, and had come to the Fairburns' wedding attended by two blond children who regarded the wealthy, healthy world around them with a mixture of suspicion and wonder.
Claire seized Priscilla Graham's hands, pulling her into the carriage with them.
Benedict found himself obliged to scoot over as Jack Graham climbed in behind her.
The children, not intending on being left behind, clambered up as well, one in Graham's lap and the other in Benedict Fairburn's.
Graham looked comfortable with the burden; Fairburn, somewhat shocked.
Worthington felt his mouth twitch, schooled his features, then let the smile crook his lips after all.
Claire held the Grahams' hands with tight grips, declaring, "I know that you have purchased passage to America already, and although I will miss you terribly, I understand why you want to go.
You will not, though, go penniless. I insist that you allow me to present you with something to start anew with.
Five hundred pounds will ease the way, will it not?
I insist," she said again, and anything else she might have said was lost in a sudden cry and embrace from Mrs Graham.
"Oh dear," Mrs Montgomery murmured in clear amusement over the joyous sobs, "perhaps I had better increase the size of your wedding purse, Mrs Fairburn, if you're going to be this flagrant with it."
"I'll try not to be too rash," Mrs Fairburn promised, beaming. "Oh, please let us see the house, Great-Aunt Nancy? I can imagine no greater joy than seeing it through your eyes."
"Nor I than seeing it through yours. Driver," Mrs Montgomery said regally, and with a shudder and lurch, an over- full carriage bumped down the street to the sound of cheers and shouts.
The throng of well-wishers followed them a goodly distance, celebratory songs and laughter filling the morning air.
Splendid indeed; better than splendid. Worthington, forgetting himself, smiled after them, and patted the nearest horse's nose.
"I believe," Charles Dalton said cheerfully, at Worthington's side, "that you've polished that bit long enough, Worthington. I don't think it could gleam any more if it was made of gold."
Worthington glanced at the well-shone bit and cleared his throat. "You may be right, sir."
Dalton smiled. "It's all right, Worthington. You're allowed to have an emotion or two, or even be caught listening once or twice."
"I'm sure I wouldn't know what you mean, sir," Worthington said as neutrally as he could manage, and Charles laughed.
"No, I'm sure you don't. It all turned out all right, didn't it, Worthington?
" Dalton looked after the departing carriage with more sense of contentment than Worthington had hoped to see from him in the aftermath of the wedding, and spoke as one satisfied with the situation.
"They'll be happy, and Claire gets on with the Lads, so we won't be too disturbed by one of our number getting married.
And it even ended well for the Grahams and those children.
It's all turned out splendidly, hasn't it? "
"So it has, sir. So it has."