Edward had planned to leave at first light. It was actually half past seven when he and Bergen departed. A brief meeting with Bentley on his plans had turned into half an hour, with Edward discussing his plans for settlements. Bentley was more than pleased. Edward had lain awake in his own bed the night before, cogitating about his situation and waiting for sleep to overtake him. He wanted to behave in an honorable manner, and the more he thought about marriage to Hattie Longbottom, the more resigned he became.

He considered it would take the better half of the day to reach London. He had several stops to make, including speaking with his mother. He was dreading that. On the one hand, his having to be married should please her, but he knew his mother. She was a parvenu and not only would she find fault with his intended, but she would harp on about how Hattie's breeding not being good enough for the Weston line. It was her way of controlling her children and inserting herself into their lives—blasting them with her requirements until they acquiesced. Robert had deplored her interference and continually lamented their parent’s review of the women he had spent time with, to the point where he had avoided family parties whenever he had been able.

To his surprise, Bergen volunteered to accompany him to London, and he was glad to have his company. One day he would tell Bergen how much his friendship meant to him, but that would wait until after he had begged a favor. Edward glanced over at Bergen and smiled. Yes, he needed to get that out of the way, first.

“Tell me, Weston. You are off to the archbishop to obtain a special license, you have to face your mother, and you are having to see your solicitor—not to mention you are being leg-shackled in three days.” Bergen shook his head. “Please...do tell me again about the snake? The announcement of its arrival roused half the wing.” He laughed so loudly, his horse tossed his head and snorted in irritation.

They were several hours into their trip. The road was dusty, and cut through farmland, so they didn’t have the cover of trees at this juncture. He sensed that Bergen was holding back, but he refused to bring up the subject of Miss Longbottom. They had spoken about every topic except her—or his situation. He was confident that Bergen would not remain silent too much longer. Edward glanced over and caught the smirk on Bergen’s face, and knew this trip was going to get the better of him. He tried to shake off his irritation, but could not. “You need me to say it again? Very well, I will. I over-imbibed. I put myself in bed, as I always do. Damn it! If you are going to harass me…” He stopped. He did not want to alienate his friend. After all, he had only himself to blame. On top of that, if it had happened to Bergen, he would also be relentless in jocular harassment. “Perhaps I should have abstained from the last glass of brandy. It was just too good to waste; and yes, it will be difficult dealing with my mother. On top of all that...”

Bergen cut him off. “Weston, it is none of my business. I must, however, say this. You have a problem. In a world of dipping too deep, you drink to excess. You are my best friend and are like a brother to me, which is why I must put you straight, no matter the cost. Do not glare at me. Someone has to say it. I also enjoy a good drink and a night on the spree, but you do not seem to know when to stop. It has thrust you into more than one scrape—and now this... Honestly, you are getting leg-shackled and it is because you were foxed.” He paused for breath. “In this case, even though it looks disastrous, Miss Longbottom could be the very thing for you. I think there is a lot more to her than meets the eye.”

At last allowed to speak, Edward responded with considerable testiness.

“You insult me, Bergen. I will, however, concede you make a valid point. I do think Hattie could be good for me. She will provide me with a much-needed heir, which will fulfill my mother’s need and make her cease her constant haranguing.”

Bergen shook his head.

“I have a favor to ask.” Edward felt annoyed. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he had swigged far too much. He had been as drunk as a wheelbarrow and made a quick, mental note not to do so again. Meanwhile, he still needed to make his request. “We should be in London by supper-time if we do not stop longer than it takes to rest the horses. An hour, maybe two.”

Bergen merely nodded.

“My friend,” Edward remarked with a smile, “you are showing more signs of fatigue than I, and I am the one caught in the wrong room.”

“Yes, about that. I am still curious about that...” Bergen shot his friend a mischievous look. “Snake?”

Edward could not help but laugh. “Yes, well my...snake...had a pleasant reaction to the warmth coming from the other side of the bed.” He forced a lascivious smirk. It was curious, yet the memory lacked such humor. “How was I to know she was in the room? It was dark.” He thought for moment, recalling the moment of realization that he was sharing her bed, and shuddered.

“By Jove, the whole house collected in the hallway to see our misery; and Lady Louisa…decent words fail me. Now that you mention it, I did not see you. Where, my friend, were you?” He sneered to emphasize the veiled jibe. “Did you know she tried to kill the…snake? She used a pillow to...batter me.”

Bergen nearly choked. Then he roared with laughter. “I was sleeping.”

“Yes, I gathered that. Let me try to guess where.” He looked up sharply into his friend’s cheery face. “No! Tell me you did not, Bergen!” Edward was incredulous. “The lady practically caused a duel with Hampton and Purdy over dinner...and you just swooped in for the night? Do you believe she will stay silent?”

“Yes. That she will.”

“Oh. I see. It was not the first time.” He snorted. “Well, she is a widow, at least, so Society will look the other way. It is not so with Hattie.”

“I think you will suit,” Bergen offered.

“Maybe. It does not matter; however; I do find I hold a fascination for her—if not with that molting, obnoxious bird.”

“You are still put out that he flirted with you at dinner.” Bergen snorted rudely and spurred his horse.

Edward also urged his horse faster. He was not about to allow Bergen to have the final word on the subject. He would never hear the end of it—and he still needed to ask him that favor. Some yards further on, he pulled up alongside his friend.

“You misinterpreted Archie’s behavior, Bergen. Very well. Let’s say it was a little embarrassing. And were you not also discomfited over his adoration?” Edward snorted. “That brings me to a favor I need to ask of you. I have noticed the camaraderie that you and Archie share.”

“Absolutely not! Weston, I do not need a bird. And if I did, I would not want that bird—even though he does provide abundant entertainment.” He gestured wildly, mocking the parrot’s actions. 

Edward gave a wolfish grin and watched his friend squirm for a moment or two.

“Not permanently, Bergen.” He laughed. “Just for the first week or so. I am not able to...carry through...if you get my meaning.”

Bergen raised his eyes heavenwards and spurred his horse faster without answering.

“So, is that a yes?” He urged his own mount on and the two men picked up speed for London.

* * *

The meeting with the archbishop could not have gone better. He had the special license safety tucked into his pocket. There were a few more matters he wanted to attend to before his return journey. Edward rode into Ludgate Hill and stopped at Rundell & Bridge. He had decided to forego the usual signet ring that most exchanged and find something a little more suitable—perhaps something that showed off her eyes, a feature he found he really liked.

The bell jingled, announcing his visit. A bespectacled, aged gentleman with greying hair looked up from a microscope and welcomed him. They had met many times before.

“Lord Weston. How nice to see you, my lord! What can I do for you today?” 

“Mr. Benton, thank you. I have an errand which brings me here today.”

“I can tell from your smile that this must be a special lady.”

Smile? Am I smiling? He had not realized that he had been smiling. He had to admit that the longer he had had to think about it, the more he was looking forward to this marriage.

“Yes, I am to be married, and I have need of a ring,” he informed the goldsmith. Robert had bequeathed to him his signet ring, but Edward wanted to keep that. It was not suitable for a lady, anyway. Edward scanned the cases, his gaze stopping on a display of sapphire rings. “Ah! Right here. I think sapphires would become her.”

“It is an excellent choice for a ring, my lord. Sapphires symbolize wisdom, virtue, sincerity, faithfulness, and good fortune. It is a beautiful stone. What do you think of this one?” Pulling out a slender, rose gold band with diamond and sapphire baguettes, he held it up to Edward. “It is a vibrant blue. What is your opinion, sir?”

“It is simple and beautiful, and as you say, there is a vibrancy to it. I shall take it. Do you have a necklace and earrings to match with it?” The sapphires reminded him of Hattie’s eyes. Of a certainty, sapphires would suit her. She was the most forthright person he had met in a long time, so a stone symbolizing sincerity went well with her character. How strange, he mused, thinking of her gave him this odd feeling, almost a longing. “That is silly. I barely know her,” he chastised himself, aloud.

“I beg your pardon, my lord?” The old man looked up from the case of jewelry. 

“Forgive me. I have ridden all day and was just reflecting on what I wanted to achieve. I did not realize I spoke the thought. I would like the matching earrings and necklace, too.”

“Yes, my lord. Shall I put these purchases on your account and wrap them for you?” The jeweler hastened to begin wrapping the jewelry.

“Yes, thank you. No, wait, please.” He spotted eyeglasses in a corner case. “Mr. Benton, would you assist me with a pair of these spectacles?”

“As you wish, my lord.” He selected a pair of oval lady’s spectacles with rose gold rims and held them up for Edward’s scrutiny. “Do these meet with your approval, my lord?”

Edward took the glasses and held them up. Things looked fuzzy to him. “I cannot be sure. Are things always fuzzy?”

“I am told that for those who cannot see far away, these help, my lord.”  

He pictured Hattie with her squint, and suddenly realized how difficult it was for her. If these glasses would help her, it could make life easier. She probably could not see anything past the nose on her face. How strenuous that must be, he thought. And I doubt she ever complains. “Yes, I think those will do.” He imagined Hattie’s face when he gave her the glasses and grinned. “These will do nicely. Thank you, Mr. Benton.”

Hurrying with his purchases, he realized he was to meet Bergen at the club shortly. Thank goodness Bergen had agreed to watch Archie for a few days. He started with a couple of weeks, and finally got what he needed—four nights without the popinjay. Hattie would probably object. But he couldn’t spend the first nights of his marriage watched by a shrieking bird.

* * *

Hattie was not about to leave her room. Humiliation did not begin to describe her feelings and she did not want everyone staring at her. She could not keep them from gossiping, however. The only improper thing she had done was to be in the wrong room at the wrong time! Well, perhaps she had participated a little in her dream but she had not done it consciously!

Lord Weston—Edward—had left for London early. She had not slept and had heard him ride away. From the clatter of hooves, it had sounded as though he must have taken Lord Bergen with him, so her only remaining ally would be Richard. That was not enough to convince her to face the approbation.

There was a soft knock on her door. She ignored it; she had no intention of answering. Jezebel would march into the room whether she was welcome or not.

“Hattie?” her brother inquired as he looked around the door.

“Richard. Come in.” If she had to talk to someone, she would rather it be him.

“May we speak about last night? Weston explained what happened and it is most unfortunate. How are you faring?” he asked kindly.

“Well enough.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed as she sat stroking Archie’s head.

“He is an honorable man, Hattie. I should have warned you to lock your door. House parties are often known for their night-time liaisons, and people often drink more than is wise.”

Hattie looked up in shock at her brother, who shrugged.

“It is the way of the world, Hattie. I wish I had taken you from mother much sooner. She could have lived here and you could have had your proper entry into Society. Instead, you have been sheltered and are as naïve as a girl still in the school room.”

“I most certainly am not! Reverend Hastings warned me about the pleasures of the flesh. I choose to live a pure and devout life.”

“It was not my intention to imply you could not be either. Nevertheless, as Weston's wife, you will have certain obligations as a hostess. He has been very generous towards you. He must have stayed awake and written up the settlements for you. He said he would have his solicitor draw up the formal agreement while he is in Town.”

Hattie did not know what to say.

“I only hope, dear sister, that you will give him a chance to make a proper marriage and not hide away in the country. His brother was killed less than a year ago in suspicious circumstances. He was never intended to be the Earl and is having a rather difficult time of it. I know you are capable of being a good wife to him.”

“Must I host parties such as this, where people drink too much and share each other's beds?”

Richard sighed loudly. “I cannot say what your husband will choose to do, Hattie. Not everyone is so fortunate in their marriage as your mother and father were. Many of our class are forced to marry to support our estates.”

“And so seek pleasures elsewhere?” she asked, knowing she must be wide-eyed with shock.

“I am afraid it is so. It would be best to disguise your astonishment.”

“I want to be a good wife,” she said meekly, while rubbing Archie from his head down his tail.

“I knew you would. Shall I take you into Oxford today, to find you a gown for your wedding? Louisa has agreed to lend Sally to you.”

Hattie could only imagine Louisa “agreeing.”

“Thank you, Richard. I confess, I would appreciate having some of my own clothing.”

“I will be downstairs with the carriage when you are ready, then.”

Richard left and Sally entered soon after to help her to dress. She was holding Hattie's freshly washed, crêpe day gown.

“I hope you do not mind accompanying me. I do need your assistance. My brother says I need to make an effort to be a good wife to Weston, but I have no notion of how to go on; about what might be fashionable.”

“I have been to London many times with Lady Bentley. It is my duty to know the latest mode.” She helped Hattie out of her night-rail and slipped her day dress over her head. “First, we will find something which fits you. No more cast-off dresses for you, miss. We could fit two of you in here.” She tightened the laces, but it was still like a sackcloth on her.

“It seemed wasteful to ruin my own clothes with black dye for mourning. Now they are lost to me.” She sat at the dressing table and allowed Sally to dress her hair. Everything was still blurred without her glasses and she squinted hard to see what the maid was doing. Her hair had never looked pretty before—she had always worn a severe plait under a cap.

“One more thing, miss... you cannot squint like that. Forgive my saying so, but it is not the most flattering pose.”

Hattie leaned forward to peer into the looking-glass and sat back with an exclamation when she saw how her nose wrinkled and her lip curled upward.

“Oh! How dreadful!”

The maid nodded. “Let us be going, then. We have much to do.”

“Be a good boy, Archie,” Hattie called as they left.

“Good boy! Good boy!” he said, bobbing his head up and down.

.