Diana and Andrew didn’t make it to Portland to visit her friend. Neither did they go to Las Vegas or even Biloxi. Instead, they spent the next six months at Greenbrier getting Mama divorced then finally married to Neville, handing over the B&B reins to Jasmine, and creating a plan for Chatham Park.
Unfortunately, they lost a year to a scheme that never quite got off the ground. Tea and Tours had fundamental issues. Every down-on-his-heels lord was running a tea shop out of his kitchen, so it was difficult to stand out. Also, as it turned out, they had personnel difficulties. Lord and Lady Somerset had a low tolerance for getting up before noon and patiently handling customers.
However, the second concept was the charm. On an especially rainy weekend, while Diana was inspecting Uncle Neville’s extensive library, she discovered a number of old and rare manuscripts. She dug deeper and found more. While Effingham bank accounts might have been dwindling, it seemed the previous several dukes had a talent for collecting artifacts, small obscure paintings, and other literary works. An idea sparked, and thus the Duke of Effingham Center for Renaissance Research and Revival was born.
Hardly a weekend passed when the estate wasn’t filled with academics and hobbyists paying handsomely for the privilege of viewing the collection or dressed in period costumes jousting, drinking mead, or recreating some aspect of the age.
Except for this weekend when Chatham Park was closed to the public for the marriage of Andrew David Neville Montgomery, Viscount Farthingworth, to Miss Diana Frances Curtis.
Wearing a ivory satin gown, Diana gazed out the window of her mama’s suite of rooms. Rooms which had been beautifully, yet modestly, refurbished. The mid-June day was as free from rain as Mama’s wedding days had had in abundance. A carriage and four white horses waited to take the bride to meet the man who held her heart.
The one who kept texting her every five minutes.
Did he think at this point I’m going to get cold feet?
She pressed her hand to her middle. Thanks to Andrew’s steadfastness, she no longer needed a ready supply of antacids. No, a very wonderful surprise would join them in seven months. Diana could hardly wait to meet their little prince or princess.
“Quit daydreaming, girl. Time to shake a leg,” Jasmine said. She and her family had made the trip across the pond. The new President of Greenbrier Enterprises would act as her matron of honor, while Master Sergeant Wesley Doss would accompany Diana down the church’s aisle.
She tore herself from the view. “I was just wondering if the caterers had iced enough champagne.” Not really. Diana was thinking of the weekend honeymoon to London. Two whole days completely alone with Andrew.
Mama fluttered over. “Let the staff worry about details.” She held up her prized possession, one she’d wear every day if Neville hadn’t convinced her otherwise. “Sit down so I can put this on you.”
The hairdresser had already pinned a veil to the back of her chignon, so all that remained was for Mama to affix the Duchess of Effingham tiara. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Mama.”
Jackie beamed. “My pleasure, sugar. After all, it’ll be yours someday.”
“Not for a very, very long time, I hope, but I’m proud to wear it today.” Not that it held much in the way of monetary value. The library wasn’t the only thing Diana had inspected. That sapphire broach Andrew’s mom gave Jackie: only two of the stones were real. The filigreed crown made of pearls and “diamonds”: only the smallest stones had been left unpilfered.
Mama’s happy little bubble didn’t need pricking, and the long-ago swap didn’t matter to Diana. She really was happy to join this respected and proud family.
With the tiara in place, Mama fluffed Diana’s veil. A few tears shimmered in the duchess’s eyes. “Are you ready, my dear?”
“Is Barbie’s ass plastic?”
The women erupted in a fit of giggles. Just as she’d hoped. Mama wasn’t the only one fighting the tears.
Jasmine wagged her finger at Diana. “You’re going to have to give up your southern sayings when you become Andrew’s viscountess.”
“Never! He loves me just as I am.”
That she knew to the bottom of her fancy new shoes, which held a brand new sixpence. An English wedding tradition. At the church, the combination of the stately stone and beautiful music brought solemnity and a sense of history to the day. And Wes Sr. handing her off with a kiss on the cheek did make her miss Granddaddy Dansfield.
Then Andrew took her hand, and all else faded away. “You are beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered in a voice thick with emotion.
The ornately robed vicar stepped forward. “Dearly Beloved…” He continued with his opening remarks while Diana’s emotions bubbled just under the surface.
Love, joy, anticipation had her pulse racing.
“If any here can give just cause why these two should not be lawfully joined together in holy wedlock, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Andrew cut his eyes at her and winked.
She returned his smile.
The congregation remained silent.
No one would stop this wedding.