Chapter Nineteen
Jack stood in the Rowntree’s noisy drawing room where the guests had congregated to chat after returning from the church. The rich aromas of coffee and chocolate blended with the scents of flowers decorating every niche. Jack raised his coffee cup to Harry as they stood together. “Here’s to a nursery filled with red-headed offspring.”
“Heaven help me!” Harry exclaimed in a shocked voice, but he proudly gazed in Erina’s direction.
Jack grinned. “Erina makes a beautiful bride. I suspect she will prove a stimulating partner in life.”
“She’ll shake up a dull old dog like me.” Harry said. “Be careful Jack, love is in the air. It may prove contagious. How is the lovely, Lady Ashley?”
“She has returned to her home in the Cotswold’s.” Jack couldn’t have put his feelings into words if he’d tried. But he doubted he’d ever find Ashley’s equal again. “You’ll be the first to know, should I ever decide to marry.”
“Somehow, that has a nasty final ring to it.”
A hollow sensation settled in Jack’s chest. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope for something that seemed as elusive as a rainbow. “Life isn’t always so simple. And marriage isn’t for everyone, Harry.”
“No. But I sense it would be good for you.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t intend to force my opinions on you, however. I shall wait patiently until the parson’s mousetrap snaps you up.”
“Where are you to spend your honeymoon?” Jack asked, wishing for a change of topic.
“Father has a tidy place here in Kent. Only twenty miles as the crow flies. We are to make it our country house. I grew up there, you know. It was after my mother died that father just upped sticks and moved to the mausoleum he resides in now. Erina and I will spend a week there and then return to London and on to Paris.”
It would be a mansion, more likely, Jack thought. Sir Ambrose Feather’s wealth was legendary. “Sounds like the perfect place. Good country for hunting and fishing.”
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Grant, Miles, and Tim, asked me to convey their congratulations. They are eager to give you a belated bachelor dinner when you return to London.”
“Good grief.” Harry huffed out a laugh. “I hope they forget.”
“I doubt it. They have long memories for such things. And time to prepare something special.”
“Now you’re frightening me.”
“I’ll make sure they don’t get too carried away. We can’t have them sending you back to your bride in a poor state.”
Harry leveled a glance at him. “But will you be there, Jack?”
“I hope to be, but you shall deal very nicely on your own, I suspect.” Jack chuckled. “Erina described how efficiently you dealt with a fellow called Gormley in Ireland.”
“Nasty fellow had it coming. Good thing he’s in prison.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “The road still tugs at you? I rather thought that certain lady might keep you here.”
“I admit that Lady Ashley is in my thoughts. And that’s where she must remain for several reasons, the first being she’s grieving the loss of her father. I was referring more to this concern with Caindale. But I shall endeavor to be there for your bachelor dinner. After that, I have businesses in the north which will take me away for a time.”
“And then?”
Jack shrugged. “Bit unclear at the moment, Harry. Wish I could say otherwise.”
“As long as it isn’t you who ruins the chance of a happy life, Jack.”
“You believe I would?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, but I fear you might. You always did have an overdeveloped sense of honor.”
“I suppose I overcompensate for my birth.”
“And you may be wrong.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Wrong?”
Harry laughed. “We all can be on occasion.”
Jack slapped Harry on the back. “Why are we discussing this now? This is your wedding day.” He glanced at Erina. “And your lovely bride will have need of you shortly.”
Erina moved among the guests pausing to speak to each one. Earlier, she had come to greet Jack and thank him for coming. She’d given him a detailed account of their trip to Ireland, some of which had him laughing, but learning of the moment Harry was shot, sent a chill down his spine. He sent up a prayer of thanks for his dearest friend standing beside him well and happy.
Despite her warm manner, Erina seemed a little subdued for a bride. “You might have to tread carefully with your lady wife.”
Harry’s expression turned grave. “Erina suffers from some silly notion that I don’t love her.”
“But you do?”
“I’m mad about her. Fell for her almost from the first. But she didn’t want me back then, so I decided to wait it out, hoping she’d change her mind. I’m not entirely sure she has.” He stroked his chin. “Erina is a little like a wild bird. She believes marriage will cage her.”
“You’ve told her you love her of course?”
Harry shook his head. “I thought I’d ease into it gradually.”
Jack’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That ball in your shoulder must have shaken your brains, Harry. You are usually such a perceptive fellow.”
“Not so perceptive as it turned out. We had a bad beginning. I was a bit of a fool in thinking I wanted Florence Beckworth for my wife. Florence knew what she wanted, however. Women always have a better compass when it comes to these things, don’t you think? She and the vicar would be perfect for each other. I wonder if they managed to persuade her parents of it.” Harry shrugged. “So, you see, it would have sounded insincere to turn around and declare my feelings earlier. Erina would not have believed me. And that would’ve been the end of it. Words don’t mean much in the scheme of things. Better for me to show her.” He looked over at his bride. “Which I am eager to do.”
Jack followed the direction of his gaze to where Erina, a vision in white, stood talking to the vicar. She plucked a leaf from her bouquet with nervous fingers. “I wish you all the good fortune in the world, my friend.”
“Thank you. Now tell me what you’ve discovered during the hunt for Butterstone’s murderer.”
Jack obliged, though he suspected Harry’s thoughts were elsewhere. And rightly so. Jack found himself a little envious of his friend. Whether it was to enjoy wedded bliss or a passionate fiery relationship, the married state had never seemed so appealing.
In the ballroom, after a welcome breakfast of hot chocolate, ham and bacon, kidneys, eggs, and a tasty selection of breads, Jack watched Erina and Harry cut the wedding cake before they were toasted with champagne. Lord Rountree’s brief speech brought tears to his daughter’s eyes, Sir Ambrose Feather’s was just as warm if a trifle more verbose. Harry reddened with pleasure at his fulsome words. Jack realized Sir Ambrose was very fond of his son. With a sad pull at his heart, it caused Jack to think of his own father. A wise and generous man always, fond of a good pun. And they had shared many over the years.
The small orchestra struck up a waltz and Harry led Erina onto the floor. She appeared happier in his arms, laughing at something he said. Jack thought they moved well together, which was a good sign. Weddings always made him a little pensive. His mother, denied a life with the man she loved, and his father cursed with an unhappy marriage.
When the rest of the guests took to the floor, Jack bowed before Lord Rountree’s sister, Erina’s Aunt Abbie, who had the remarkable ability to converse without pause throughout.
~~~
As they danced, Harry smiled and squeezed her hand. “You look very beautiful, Erina.”
“Thank you, Harry.” She gazed from his chestnut hair to his crisp cravat with the sapphire tiepin, to his dove gray suit with the white camellia in his button hole. “How clever of you and Jack to both dress in gray. You looked very handsome standing at the altar.”
Harry widened his eyes. “You noticed Jack? Your eyes weren’t only for me?”
She laughed.
They were married! It had happened so fast that Erina wanted to pinch herself. She studied his handsome face for some sign that he loved her. His gaze was warm and filled with promise, which made her whole body tingle in anticipation.
But Harry was Harry. Consistent in everything he did. He handled all situations with surprising calm and efficiency. They were so different. She was impetuous and volatile by comparison. Might that mean this marriage meant little to him? Was he capable of strong passion? She certainly hoped so. Just being close to him made her want to throw her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. But she held back, afraid that her ardent nature might repulse him, or even worse amuse him. And she mustn’t forget that he’d been forced to marry her. She dropped her gaze.
Harry’s hand tightened on hers causing her to look at him. His eyes caught and held hers. “Are you tired, sweetheart?”
“Heavens no. I am taking in every detail of this special day so that I might remember it always.”
“An excellent affair. Your aunt is to be commended.”
“Yes, she worked very hard to make it so and with very little time in which to do it. I am extremely grateful to her. She was thrilled with your gift.” Harry had presented Aunt Abbie with a beautiful diamond and ruby brooch. Erina admired the diamond wedding ring, Harry had slipped on her finger during the service.
“The first of many. I plan to shower you with pretty trinkets and gowns when in Paris.”
She drew in a breath, visualizing a Parisian gown in gold silk taffeta. “You are very generous Harry.”
Harry gave her a slow smile. “I shall enjoy seeing you in them.”
Marrying one’s best friend was a very good idea, she decided, smiling back at him. She just wished she was confident about what lay ahead.
She glanced across at her aunt, who’d become quite pink in the cheeks while she talked animatedly to their neighbor, Mr. Grenville, also a widower. Perhaps something might come of it. Erina hoped so.
Ladies who lived alone tended to talk too much, either to their cats or to anyone who would listen. Like Miss Snell who did the flowers for the church every Sunday. It was a sorry state to find one’s self in. Why had she ever imagined she’d prefer to remain single?