Page 60 of The Rake and Lady Julia

They fell silent as they realised they were being watched, and as Jane flounced off to a pew, Charlotte and Penrith approached to say a quick hello.

"Honestly," the Duchess of Penrith rolled her eyes, "Raising a fifteen-year-old girl is the most trying thing a person can do. She is so headstrong."

"I can't think where she got it from," Penrith observed dryly, and the assembled guests hid their smiles from the duchess.

"Congratulations are in order," Penrith said, with a stiff nod to them all.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Shuggy, you are their friend, not the vicar," Charlotte sniffed at her husband, whose stiff formality had not waned over the years, "You might hug them, just the once."

"I have hugged all present many times," Penrith grumbled, but he acquiesced to his wife's demand—as he always did—and offered the ladies brief pecks on the cheek and Orsino a mangled combination that was half hand-shake half embrace.

Charlotte in turn threw her arms around Violet, then Julia, and finally George, to whom she whispered something before letting him go.

And then it was time to take their seats, as the call went up that the carriage had arrived.

Julia stood as her daughter made her way down the aisle on the arm of Staffordshire, who was beaming with pride. At the altar, there was a slight delay before Robert deposited his daughter into the care of Theodore—Teddy—Pennelegion, heir to the ducal seat of Orsino.

"What was the hold up?" Julia whispered, as Robert slid into the seat beside her.

"I was offering Teddy a menacing glare," her husband whispered back, "So that he might know to behave himself with Sarah. Unfortunately, Reverend Laurence thought I had something in my eye, and was going to try douse it with fontal water ."

Julia stifled a giggle and took her husband's hand. As the ceremony began, Julia stole a glance around the church, overwhelmed by happiness to be surrounded by those she loved. Violet caught her eye and offered her a discreet wave, and when she turned and caught Charlotte's gaze, the Duchess of Penrith gave a saucy wink.

Everyone that she loved was here, and everyone that she loved was happy—except, perhaps, one person.

"What is it, George?" Julia whispered to her son; whose face was pale.

"The Duchess of Penrith," George stammered, glancing up at his mama with fear in his eyes.

"Yes?" Julia prompted, as she wondered what on earth Charlotte had whispered in her son's ear.

"She said I'm next," George cast a petrified glance behind him, to where Jane sat beside her mama and papa.

Julia snorted with laughter, though she quickly tried to disguise it as a cough.

"George," she whispered after a moment, taking her son's hand.

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to accept your fate, for there's no point in trying to resist the will of a wallflower."