Page 31 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)

October 1817, Kent

It was a warm Thursday morning when Cecil exchanged vows with Louisa.

“ With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow... ”

Cecil remembered little about the service as he and his bride signed the parish registry. Louisa was lovely in a cream gown with a satin overlay she’d designed herself. The sleeves were short and full, displaying her shapely arms. Her hair was dressed low with only a pearl hairpiece for covering. He loved Louisa’s glossy copper-colored hair and had asked her not to cover it on this day.

The four-strand pearl necklace with matching earrings Louisa wore was a gift from his mother. His wedding gift to Louisa was the luxurious emerald satin cape his bride would wear on the walk from the village chapel to her new home, Wycliffe House.

He wore all black except for his white cravat and cream waistcoat. His new valet, Simpson, a veteran hired through the London registry office, had polished his employer’s black pumps to a high sheen.

As Cecil and his bride exited the church, they were greeted by cheers and whistles from their dearest friends and family who would accompany them to the wedding breakfast.

Louisa had said little to him other than her vows, and he squeezed her gloved hand held in his. “Louisa?”

“Do you think Cook made enough salmon patties?” she asked in a low voice.

He chuckled, relieved his new wife wasn’t preoccupied with something more worrisome. “I think you, Charlotte, and Edith did an excellent job planning our wedding breakfast. Everything will be perfect.”

Ashford, Nathaniel, and their wives had descended on Wycliffe House a fortnight ago, along with Louisa and her mother, Lady Chartham. His mother had returned from London to add to the numerous chaperones Louisa would have in the house.

He and his intended had elected not to take a wedding trip as Louisa was excited to start refurbishing the house.

“I have full rein to decorate as I wish?” she’d asked him several times over the last two weeks.

“Here at Wycliffe House and the townhouse in London.” He didn’t mind how many times Louisa asked him the question, as his affirmative response usually resulted in a sweet kiss from his intended, regardless of who was in their vicinity.

Their party trooped to the Elizabethan house his family had lived in for five generations and entered the large dining room. Nathaniel’s sister had recently arrived for the wedding festivities to make sixteen at table. Louisa was adamant an uneven number of guests for their wedding breakfast could result in bad luck for their married life and also wanted to include Alicia as the girl was still quite unhappy about her former friendship with a founder of the Rogue’s Alliance.

Cecil and Leopold had buried the hatchet while hunting the RA, and Cecil was relieved all of Louisa’s brothers and her father had assured him they approved of him as Louisa’s future husband.

His mother had already decamped to the dower house and beamed with happiness that both her sons were now wed. Yesterday evening, he’d disturbed her in the family mausoleum.

“Pardon me, Mother.” He made to retreat, but his mother lifted a hand.

“I was just talking to your father and your brother.” She smiled mistily. “They would both be so proud of you.”

Although he felt as if he were getting better at displaying warm feelings toward his family and friends, at present Cecil wished only to be away. He cleared his throat. “I dearly hope so, Mother.”

“Wycliffe, come with me.” She held out her arm for him to take. “I could use a steady hand to help me back to the house.”

And he went, knowing she wanted him to concentrate on the future for now.

Ashford stood to say a few words as the assembled guests partook in the meal of hot rolls, eggs, ham, tongue, and tea. There was also chocolate for those who liked the bitter drink alongside the bride’s cake on a separate table.

“I have known Cecil since I was a boy, and despite that, I still like him.” Ashford paused for the ensuing laughter. “I wish him and his lovely bride a long and happy life together, filled with all those warm moments between married couples that he always scoffed at.”

The speech received a round of applause as Ashford took his seat and Edith rose to her feet.

“My husband said I should be the one to speak for our family as I have a soft spot for our dear Cecil.” She took a breath and bit her lip. When Cecil thought she might cry, she rallied to say, “Charlotte and I hoped and prayed our dear Louisa would find a man worthy enough, and brave enough, to see what she chose to hide- that she is one of the most loyal, caring people I have ever met. Cecil, thank you for loving our friend as she deserves. I wish you both much joy.”

The applause was even louder now, and he glanced at his wife to see tears pooling in her eyes. “Louisa, be happy.”

“I am,” she smiled up at him. “I’m the happiest woman in all of England.”

* * * * *

“A re you nervous?” Charlotte asked Louisa as she brushed her friend’s hair.

Seated at the bench of her dressing table, Louisa wore a white negligee and satin robe, her copper hair glistening in the candlelight of a nearby candelabra. A low fire had chased the chill from her bedchamber.

“I think you and Edith have told me enough to be going forward with,” she replied with a self-conscious chuckle. “My mother merely said that with such a virile man as Cecil, I should be quite happy afterward.”

Louisa could see her friends grin in the reflection of her dressing mirror. She also glimpsed Edith caressing her belly, a movement she’d noticed her friend make several times the last few days.

Turning on the bench, she asked Edith, “You’re with child?”

“I didn’t want to tell everyone yet. Today was your day.” Edith took Louisa’s hands in her own and squeezed them.

“Your news only adds to my happiness.” She rose to her feet and released Edith’s hands only to hug her friend.

Charlotte joined the hug, saying, “Now my son will have a playmate.”

“I see a lot of traveling in our futures,” she replied, stepping back.

“We will be together every season,” Charlotte replied brightly. “Perhaps we can volunteer at the Registry Office and introduce our children to Thorne’s Lending Library.”

Edith clapped her hands. “Oh yes! My physician says I should not travel at Christmastide, so we must promise to meet at Thorne’s in the new year after Parliament is seated.”

“I promise,” she replied in unison with Charlotte.

After more brief hugs, her friends exited the bedchamber.

There was a knock on the door that connected her dressing room to her husband’s.

“Enter!” she called, suddenly breathless.

“I thought they would never leave.” Cecil entered her room, dressed in a black silk banyan, freshly shaven, his luxurious hair damp from a recent bath. “Edith is expecting?”

“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?” She smiled softly, unsure what to say or do next.

He walked towards her and took her hands in his. “Happy?”

“It’s been a good day,” she replied, her breathing ratcheting up a notch, thinking of what Edith and Charlotte had told her would happen on her wedding night.

“And it’s not over yet.” Cecil leaned in and kissed her deeply. When he finally raised his head, his cheeks were flushed.

“I love you,” she said, releasing his hands and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Are you happy?”

He nodded, his arms now loosely encircling her waist. “This time in Yorkshire with our friends and family has been a boon. I’d forgotten how much I loved the country and a simpler life. I am content as I’ve never been before.”

“Good.” She winked at him. “Now show me what a wedding night with the great Wycliffe entails.”

“I think that is a challenge,” Cecil replied as he lifted her into his arms.

She giggled. “Are you up to it, husband?”

“Ah, there’s that competitive streak showing itself again.” Cecil kissed her long and hard until her head spun. “Never change, my love.”

She felt a wave of emotion for this man who loved her for herself. Who respected her abilities and cared about the things that mattered to her. They belonged to each other, belonged with each other. She was home.

“I won’t,” she answered, caressing his cheek with one hand, exultant that he was looking at her with the same love and desire she felt. “Now, on to the wedding night.”

THE END