The Kentish sky over Walcott resembled a Gainsborough painting of an English summer, azure blue banked up with puffy, gilt-edged clouds. A light breeze stirred the leaves of the stately trees in the park. Toby appeared in view, gesticulating madly while walking with Mr. Nash over the lawn, two hounds capering ahead.

Helen turned from the window as Diana came into the bedroom she had all to herself. “The weather is going to be perfect.”

“I heard a carriage arrive,” Diana said.

“I wonder if it’s Jason’s.” Helen went to open the door leading onto the Juliette balcony. She saw a dark-haired man walking up the drive beyond the box hedges and knew instinctively it was Jason. Her heart leaped and she warmed all over.

“Don’t go out there in your wrap.” Diana laughed. “You cannot see Peyton until the wedding.”

She couldn’t resist peeking at him, before he disappeared around the corner of the house. Helen drew an excited breath and turned again to admire her wedding dress carefully laid out awaiting her. Cream silk satin overlaid with cream silk net, decorated with satin ribbon and intricate embroidery. She touched the feather-light short veil to be held in place by a circlet of diamonds and pearls. A gown from her dreams.

The preceding two months had been a whirlwind of balls, routs, dinners, and dances at Almack’s. Despite being squired by one of the most handsome men in the ton, or perhaps because of it, she was subjected to the odd nasty comment in the ladies withdrawing room. She kept it to herself, knowing Mama would be upset and Jason might get angry. In time, that chapter of her life would fade into the past. Already a royal scandal had erupted to fill the gossip sheets and distract any attention from her.

Mama entered the room. “Diana, can you make sure Alexander isn’t spreading his breakfast over his coat? Mrs. Prince has other duties, and he insisted on putting on his velvet suit.”

Diana laughed. “Zander considers that his role, carrying the ring on a velvet cushion, is the most important part of the wedding.”

Earlier, Zander had assured Helen that he was big now and would be perfectly all right without her. “Diana has promised to read to me every night,” he’d said, looking anxious. Helen would make sure that if Diana or her mother couldn’t then someone else would.

After Diana left, Mama sat on the blue silk damask sofa, which matched the curtains and the bed hangings in the elegant room. The silk wallpaper patterned with lotus flowers and birds was the blue color of a Ming vase.

Mama patted the cushion beside her. Helen obeyed, ready for one of their talks, although this time she welcomed it.

“Were you able to sleep, my dear? I confess I didn’t the night before my wedding. I remember your grandmother fussing over my puffy eyes. She cooled a spoon with ice water and applied the back of it to my lower lids, which did the trick perfectly. You won’t require it. You look radiant.”

“I did manage a few hours.”

“It’s been a busy couple of months, hasn’t it? And you and Peyton have not been able to spend much time alone.”

Helen gave her mother a wry smile. “We talked a lot.” And she’d learned more about his past, his relationship with his father and how the war affected him, although he hadn’t put it into words. She came to realize how much he cared for his brother and sister. Lizzie had attended every venue with them. Helen enjoyed her company while Diana was occupied, always with at least one or two admirers hanging on her every word.

In a quiet moment, when Jason was absent, Lizzie had confessed that she hadn’t met anyone she’d warmed to. “The older gentlemen are generally very reserved. If I marry again, I want to laugh with someone. I want passion.”

Helen could only agree with her but reassured her that there was someone who would suit her perfectly. She had only to wait for him.

“I thought the strict chaperoning appropriate,” Mama said, bringing Helen back to the present. “In the circumstances.”

She understood that her mother did not want to give any of the gossips fuel to use against her. But it had been difficult. While Jason had readily agreed and was scrupulous about protecting her reputation, he still managed to find moments to pull her behind pillars and potted plants and into empty corridors. Each hurried kiss held a promise of their wedding night. She was a little nervous, but yearned for it as much as he did.

She took a deep breath. Tonight, they would finally be alone together.

While her parents had decided on this big, grand wedding, Helen would have preferred a smaller more intimate one. The house was already abuzz with early guests filling the reception rooms while their servants were taken down to the servants’ hall.

After a private ceremony in the chapel, the wedding breakfast would follow. Two hundred guests would fill the enormous ballroom, where tables had been set up around the dance floor. A full orchestra was hired. The preparations all seemed to happen like magic. Helen had nothing to do but cosset herself. Walcott ran like a well-oiled machine.

Speeches would be made, and even Harry had abandoned what he’d called the fleshpots of Paris to come home to deliver one. It made her even more nervous. There were many wonderful childhood memories to draw from, as well as some embarrassing ones. She only hoped her brother would choose wisely. She expected he would. His shoulders broader, he seemed to have grown taller and more mature.

A footman knocked at the bedroom door and brought in a fragrant tray containing a pot of chocolate, cups and saucers, and sweet rolls. He bowed and left them. Grandfather’s staff never put a foot wrong. Until the antics made him chuckle, she’d always considered the butler, Gibson, terribly snooty. Helen drew in a deep breath. She had yet to see her new home and tackle the staff.

Helen’s hand shook slightly as she poured out the chocolate.

“Are you nervous, dear?” Mama asked.

“A little. It’s such a big wedding.”

“Your father and I thought it best.”

She leaned against her mother, drinking her warming cup of chocolate, savoring the sweet taste. “I know why you decided that. You always know the right thing to do. I am so very grateful to you and Papa. I feared I am a disappointment to you.”

“Never, my sweet girl.” Mama hugged her. “You deserve the best, Helen. And God willing, you have found it in a good man.

“Now, your first night with Peyton,” she said briskly, putting down her cup. “I believe it’s always good for a young woman to have some idea of what to expect. I know you feel you’re not an innocent, but darling, believe me, you are. Sit still and listen, and then you may ask questions if you wish.”

“Send for Mary, it’s time to dress for the ceremony at eleven o’clock.” Mama rose, leaving Helen blushing furiously after a talk which proved enlightening, but failed to banish her nerves.

A half hour later, Helen stood before the mirror as Diana arranged her veil. She was very pleased with the result. Her skin looked creamy, and her eyes sparkled.

“You look beautiful, Helen.”

“Thank you, dearest.” Perhaps love made one beautiful, Helen thought.

Mary handed her the bouquet of white roses and peonies. And, with a deep breath, she descended the staircase with Diana to the hall where their father waited, a hand on the bannister, smiling up at them.

Helen advanced down the aisle on her father’s arm in the exquisitely painted chapel, decorated and perfumed with white flowers. Diana followed, in pale blue, with Zander, serious in a gray velvet suit, holding the ring on its pillow. She smiled at Uncle Nicholas who sat next to Harry and winked at her. Her distinguished, elegant grandfather gave her an approving nod.

Mama smiled teary-eyed from the front pew.

Jason waited at the altar with Charlie, his groomsman. Two tall handsome men in dark blue and crisp white with camellia boutonnieres.

Helen looked up into Jason’s warm, appreciative gaze. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

The vicar cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved…”

When her father stepped forward to give her away, Helen’s eyes blurred with tears. She was leaving his care forever and moving forward into a new life. And though she welcomed it, she couldn’t help a pang of loss.

The vicar cleared his throat, and the ceremony began.

Zander had managed, walking slowly with great care, to hand over the ring. His duty done, he smiled his singularly sweet smile and scurried back to Mama.

Her glove removed, Jason took her hand in his.

“With this ring, I thee wed…”

His gaze rested on her as he repeated: “With my body I thee worship...”

Then the vicar spoke the final words, “I pronounce that they be man and wife…”

Man and wife! Helen kissed her husband and smiled into his ardent green eyes.

After the signing of the register, all was a blur. A wonderful rejoicing, thanking hundreds of guests for their blessings, picking at the rich, exotic foods while her mother urged her to eat. And trying not to drink too much champagne. The deep pride she felt when her father spoke in glowing terms of his eldest daughter. Then laughing with Jason as Harry, his bright blue eyes alight with mischief, described her failure to accomplish fly fishing, despite his supreme patience, and her auspicious beginnings as an equestrian, when the bad-tempered pony she had as a child threw her into a hedge. He ended with how she could add up sums when they played cards, faster than anyone he knew and, surprisingly, beat him once or twice at chess.

Then the orchestra struck up, and Jason swept her expertly over the floor for the bridal waltz before everyone joined in.

Now she stood once again in her bedroom, slightly dizzy, a married lady. Mary helped her dress as she became aware that she would soon say goodbye to everything she had known up until this moment. In the mirror, she was pleased with how smart she looked in her new celestial blue pelisse, the hat of spotted blue velvet adorned with a plume of ostrich feathers, her half-boots of lemon kid leather. A surge of excitement spun through her as she arranged her India shawl over her shoulders.

The weather, which had been perfect all day, threatened rain. It would be some hours before she and Jason could be alone. He had invited Mary to travel with them rather than wait for his valet, who was to follow along later.

Helen leaned out of the carriage window and waved a final goodbye to her family, dwarfed by Walcott’s six towering pillars as they gathered on the mosaic-tiled portico. Inside, the ballroom was still full of guests, some of whom would stay for several days.

She sat back against the well-padded leather squabs while Jason held her hand, his warm gaze resting on her. Was he as she was, thinking of their wedding night?

The carriage pulled away and rattled along the avenue of ancient gnarled trees. They had begun their four-hour journey to Surrey and Peyton Grove.