CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The wedding took place on a grim, grey morning. Charles hoped it was not an omen of the marriage to come. He had done everything in his power to expedite matters, and, while he was glad that he had been able to find a swift solution to his friend's troubles, he was not convinced that Kit really appreciated the enormity of what he had done.
Kit did not seem to mind the miserable weather. He stood at the head of the aisle, wearing the suit he had been forced to borrow from Charles – his father had not even allowed him back into the house to collect his clothes – but the most extraordinary smile was plastered onto his face. Charles had never seen Kit so happy. It was almost as if he had been transformed into a different man.
Out of necessity, there were few guests. Julia was there, of course, and she had persuaded Mrs Potter and Miss Kelsey to come along too. Charles did not know what they suspected as to the cause of the hasty marriage, but he could guess their opinion from their pinched expressions and the distinct lack of smiles. Even among the servants, interclass marriage was seen as a dangerous thing. Society preferred people to stay where they were put.
It was an uncomfortable glimpse into the future which awaited himself and Julia. At least he would be able to protect her from the worst of society's ravages. He vowed more passionately than ever that the truth of her parentage would never come to light.
Felicity Graham was also wearing borrowed clothes. Julia had donated one of the beautiful dresses she had been given by the Dowager Duchess of Westbourne. The young cook was a pretty enough girl, certainly, but to Charles's eyes she was nothing special – certainly not worth throwing away a life of comfort such as that which had been laid out for Kit.
All his misgivings vanished as the ceremony began. The couple spent the entire time gazing into one another's eyes. No one could deny that they were very much in love. They had risked everything; they had lost everything; but they were together, and that was enough.
Charles's qualms dissolved into sympathy. By all accounts, Miss Graham – or rather, the new Lady Christopher Yardsley – had not done much to win the hearts of her fellow servants. Charles believed she had a reputation as something of a dragon. Kit had lost all of his friends but Charles to this impetuous marriage. Theirs would be a lonely life.
Charles resolved that he and Julia would not abandon their friends in their time of need. What little they could do, they would do it.
After the ceremony, they retired to Harding Hall for a celebratory luncheon. It would be Kit's last taste of luxury before he and his new bride set off for a brief honeymoon with Felicity's friends in London. After that, they were going to Oxford so that Kit could become a student there and take the first steps towards taking on a profession. They would have a better chance starting out away from Chiltern, where nobody knew them.
Charles had invited the vicar, Mr Green, to dine with them. Mr Green was an elderly fellow whose company Charles did not often enjoy, but today, he would be useful. Charles intended to engage his patronage for Kit's studies. With few options available to him as the disgraced second son of a Duke, Charles had advised Kit to consider entering the Church. It was a respectable profession, which many a gentleman's younger son had embarked upon, and though it might not quite suit Kit's former wild personality, it would allow him to provide for his wife and child. Charles intended to persuade Mr Green to take Kit on as his successor, so that, in time, Kit and Felicity would be able to live in the vicarage of Chiltern, close to their friends at Harding Hall.
He had intimated his plans to Kit and had warned him to be on his very best behaviour. The wild bachelor had died at the altar. He must now become Lord Christopher, respectable married man. At least, as respectable as circumstances allowed.
For her part, Felicity dined in silence. She was not used to sitting at the great table together with her former master. Charles felt for her. She was now doomed to spend a lifetime caught between one class and the other. Julia, at least, had friends in high places to ease her transition. Felicity had no one.
"What do you think of the soup?" asked Julia. Charles could see she was gently trying to pry Felicity from her shell. "No one will be able to replace you, of course, but I don't think the new cook has done too badly."
"It is delicious," said Felicity stiffly, though she had barely eaten a thing. Kit shot her a glance of deep sympathy. It was clear enough to anyone that they were both longing to be alone.
"Is there any news from the parish, Mr Green?" asked Charles, giving Kit a nudge.
Mr Green immediately launched into a long and dreary diatribe on the state of the church roof, his parishioners' devotion, and the condition of every sick and elderly citizen of Chiltern. As they sat and listened, Charles noticed Kit's face grow pale. The life of a country vicar was certainly not the one he would have chosen, if any choice had been left to them.
"Lord Kit will be studying at Oxford University," said Charles, smoothly interrupting the vicar. "I believe you were there once, yourself?"
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Mr Green. "It is a very fine institution. Just the right place for scholarly contemplation. I do miss it at times, though I would not trade my ministry for the world."
"You certainly seem to find your life very fulfilling," ventured Kit.
"Fulfilling is certainly the word for it," said Mr Green. "Nothing compares to a life spent in service of others, would you not agree, my lord?"
"I think it will be exactly the thing for you, Kit," said Charles encouragingly. "I have often thought that you do not know your own value. This will give you the opportunity to discover it."
"I can only hope to make as much of a success of myself as our good Reverend Green has done," said Kit graciously, though he had turned as green as the pea soup.
The sound of a carriage rattling up the driveway drifted in through the windows.
"Goodness," said Julia, surprised, "surely they haven't brought the carriage round already? We haven't finished dining!"
Felicity looked terrified at the prospect of having to leave Harding Hall immediately. She reached across the table, where Julia took her hand and squeezed it. "Don't fret, Felicity. We will simply ask them to wait. They will not take you away until you are ready."
"It is not that I do not want to go," said Felicity. "It's just that..."
There was no need to her for her to finish her sentence. Everyone at the table, even Mr Green, understood the predicament she was in. She was about to embark upon a new and difficult life, with no guarantee that she would be accepted anywhere she went.
Charles beckoned to Mr Larkin. "Larkin, do go and see what on earth they are doing outside. It is not yet time for Lord Kit and his wife to depart."
Larkin disappeared at once, and Charles took the opportunity to pour out a fresh helping of wine into everyone's glasses. Larkin was always extremely stingy with his pouring.
"Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to begin the toasts." Charles had always suspected he would one day be Kit's best man, but these were far from the circumstances he used to imagine. His tales of ribaldry from the past would have to be put aside. "I have known Kit for a great many years now..."
Larkin's head appeared in the doorway. "Excuse me, my lord..."
"Yes, Larkin," said Charles, irritated. Surely the man could see that he was in the middle of giving a speech? "What is it?"
"Forgive me, my lord, but there is a young man at the door who wishes to see you very urgently."
"Really, Larkin, have you lost your wits? Deal with him yourself! I am not at home to visitors."
Larkin cleared his throat awkwardly. "I will happily throw him out, my lord, if that is what you wish, but I thought it worth checking with you first. This man says he has important information regarding your daughter. He says her safety is at stake."
Charles glanced at Julia. "Where is Annabelle?"
"She has been with Miss Kelsey all morning," Julia answered. "I checked in on her after we got back from the church. She seemed quite happy."
Charles sighed. "I suppose I had better deal with this. Do excuse me, everyone. Don't hesitate to finish off the wine while I'm gone, it is an excellent vintage."
He followed Larkin out into the hallway, where a young man with dark hair and a long scar down the left side of his face was standing, twirling a rather well-made hat between his fingers. There was something oddly familiar about him, though Charles could not put his finger on what. When the man saw Charles, rather than bowing, he simply gave a smirk.
"I hear you have some information regarding my daughter," said Charles. "Speak quickly, and bear in mind that I'm not in the mood for time-wasters."
The man flung his hat carelessly in Larkin's direction. The butler struggled to catch it.
"And all without even offering me a drink," the man sneered. "I had heard so much about the great hospitality of this nation's aristocrats. I see now that I was gravely mistaken."
"Do you really expect me to offer you a drink without even knowing who you are?" asked Charles.
"Ah, of course. Do forgive me." The man made an extravagant bow. Charles had the impression that he was being mocked. When the man looked up again, his eyes were flashing with a dangerous light. "My name is Mallory. Mr Edmund Mallory. And I am here to tell you the truth about my sister, Julia."