Susan Wilton sat at her dressing table with her mother, Betsy, hovering behind her left shoulder, hands aflutter, while her very best friend and bridesmaid, Katherine Howe, was fussing with Susan’s hair at her right side. Louisa, Susan’s fifteen-year-0ld sister, knelt beside her and helped her slide into her satin shoes.

Mother heard the carriages pulling up in front of the house. She turned to the clock on the mantel. “Oh, my… It’s time to go. Katherine, is her hair done?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Katherine said, as she adjusted one last curl with the tip of her comb. “Now, don’t you look like the perfect bride,” she added, stepping back to admire her work.

“Hold still,” Louisa complained, as she tried to fasten the button on the shoe of Susan’s left foot.

Mother rushed to the bedroom door and opening it, called out, “Thomas… Jacob… are you ready?”

“Yes, Mamma,” Jacob shouted up from the entry hall. “We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes. Father has had the carriages brought around already.”

“I know. I know.” Mother called back, but became flustered again and turned to Susan. “Come. Come. Stand. Let me look at you.”

Susan stood up from her dressing table. “Mamma, there’s plenty of time. Simon always runs late, anyway.”

“But it’s his wedding day. Surely, today, of all days, he’ll be on time.” Mother took a long look at Susan and began to cry. “Oh, my baby. Look at you. All grown up and about to be married. I’ve always dreamed of this day, and now it’s here. Oh my, don’t you look lovely.”

Susan was, indeed, a lovely bride. The eldest daughter of Squire Thomas and his wife, Betsy—Susan was twenty-years-old, with a pleasing oval face, dark curly hair, a delicate mouth, and large, expressive eyes that seemed to laugh when she was amused.

“Enough. Come. The carriages are waiting. Your Papa is waiting.”

They left the room and headed down the stairs to the entry hall where Father and Jacob, Susan’s older brother, and his wife, Amy, were waiting.

“Are you nervous?” the plump and rosy Katherine whispered to Susan as they descended the stairs.

Susan was surprised by the question. “Not at all. Why, should I be?”

Katherine took her arm. “Well, big changes are ahead. A new home and husband. You’ll be leaving your teaching position no doubt, and you must say good-bye to your family. And what about me? I’ll miss you so very much, my dear friend.”

“Oh, Katherine, I’m not going that far away. It’s only twelve miles or so to Haverford House.”

“Is that where you’re to live? I thought that was the Duke’s home now. Surely, Simon will have his own residence now that he’s married, will he not?”

Susan had not given that any thought and Simon had said nothing about where they would reside. London, perhaps?

“Come along—come you two. Stop dawdling,” Mother insisted.

The party was suddenly swept up with the task of getting into the carriages. Mother, father, the bride, and Jacob and his wife were in the first carriage and Katherine, Louisa, and two attendants were in the second.

It was several miles to the parish church where the ceremony was to take place at noon.

It was a lovely May morning and not too hot. Susan turned to look out the carriage window as they passed along the country road leading to Ash, a modest country village in Kent. The whole morning had been such a whirl of activity and this was the first time Susan had had a moment to reflect upon the changes soon to sweep her up into her new life. But first and foremost in her heart and mind was her groom, Simon, the younger brother of the Duke of Lennox of Haverford House outside the community of Preston, also of Kent.

Simon had met Susan at the school where she taught when he came to represent the Duke during a school awards day. The Duke had promised to come, but the House of Lords had called an extraordinary session, and he had been unable to attend, sending Simon along in his place.

Simon couldn’t keep his eyes off Susan from his seat with the teachers on the presenter’s podium, and after the ceremony was over, he introduced himself, and wooed her aggressively for several months before asking her to marry him.

Katherine had been advised caution when he proposed but, despite the short engagement, Susan’s parents had urged her to accept the proposal from an aristocrat—even if he was only the second son with no title or inheritance.

Simon was, without a doubt, a handsome young man, and Susan found it easy to be enchanted by his blond good-looks, his boyish charm, and his breezy ways—despite his often unexplained absences and broken appointments. Afterwards, there were always the most convincing and heartfelt excuses and expressions of deep devotion.

But today was the culmination of all that effort. She was to be married in less than an hour. She wished that Katherine was sitting with her in this coach instead of Jacob and Amy, but as her bridesmaid, she would be beside her soon enough.

The carriages pulled up in front of the church. The wedding carriage that would be used to whisk the bride and groom away was parked nearby festooned with ribbons and flowers. However, as Susan descended from the carriage, she saw no sign of the Duke’s carriage which had his royal crest painted on the door.

Katherine came, breathlessly, running up and took Susan’s arm.

“Come, we must hide you away until time for the ceremony. We can’t have the groom seeing you before the wedding.”

The two of them ran giggling into the vestry where they would wait until the processional music started up. Thomas, the Squire, and Susan’s father, soon arrived to sit with them until it was time to lead her down the aisle when the ceremony was to begin. Mother, Louisa, and Jacob and wife had been seated in the front row on the bride’s side of the church.

“Daughter, you tell that husband of yours that I’ll be sending over three brace of sheep as promised—four ewes and two rams. Twern’t ready till yesterday, and this day being the wedding, thought it best to wait till later in the week.”

“Yes, Papa.”

None of the three could think of anything further to say. Susan was too nervous, Katherine was too sad to be losing her friend, and Father hardly ever spoke unless spoken to.

They sat for quite a few moments before Father took out his pocket watch and checked it.

“Quarter past,” he said, putting the watch back in his waistcoat pocket, and shifting his bulk in the uncomfortable chair. The Squire was a solid man with a mane of unkempt hair, rosy cheeks and a wicked grin when he was playful—which was seldom.

After a while longer, he stood and went to the vestry door and looked out. He turned back to Susan and said. “Wait lass, I be right back.”

Katherine reached over and took Susan’s hand. “Nothing to fret about. You know the aristos. Bound to be late to make an impression, no?”

Susan nodded but wasn’t so sure about that.

The Padre opened the door and looked in. He smiled and rubbed his chin and left.

The Squire returned. “The sheep are getting restless. Your groom better show up soon or the church will empty out.”

Mother appeared at the door. “What’s going on, Thomas? It is half past, and no one from Haverford House has made any kind of appearance.”

“Now, Mother, stop your fretting. There could be any number of reasons.”

Mother pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Go back and sit down. What’ll people think with you strutting around the sanctuary like a Guinea hen?

“Now, Papa, let her be,” Susan insisted.

“Humph,” Mother said and turned and left.

By now Susan was becoming anxious and she stood and went to the vestry window and looked out toward the road at the front of the church.

“I see a carriage,” she said.

“Ah.” Father stood and left the room.

Katherine went over to the window with Susan and they watched the carriage until it disappeared from their view.

They turned back and watched the door which shortly opened.

Father stood there. “Daughter…” He looked back into the church and stood back as a man appeared at the entrance.

“Miss Wilton…” It was John Chamberlain, the Duke of Lennox. “Miss Wilton…” He strode into the room, holding his hat in his hand.

Susan was surprised for he did not look as though he was dressed for a wedding.

“Miss Wilton… I don’t quite know what to say.”

John Chamberlain was a tall and quite imposing man. He was much taller and more solid than his younger brother. He had broad shoulders, an equally handsome face, but had dark hair while his brother was blond.

Susan’s stomach seized. “He’s not coming, is he?” she asked.

The Duke shook his head. “The scoundrel has absconded with all the family silver, the best horse and carriage, and several hundred pounds of cash.”

“Do you know where he’s gone?” Susan asked quietly.

“I have no idea, but I suspect he went to London. He had some rather serious gambling debts and begged me for money only yesterday, and I refused him as I was to surprise him with a living as my wedding present to the both of you.”

“And he left no note for me?” Susan asked, now becoming angry.

“I’m sorry, Miss Wilton. He didn’t.” The Duke turned to the Squire. “I shall, of course, reimburse you for any losses associated with the wedding, and shall return any and all dowry that has been forwarded to Haverford House—if it’s not already been taken and spent by my brother. I’ll make an accounting and pass it on to you.”

“Most kind, Your Grace,” the Squire said, bowing his head.

The Duke looked frantic. “Now, you must excuse me. I must leave. My wife is with child and having a troubled confinement.”

The Duke turned and left. And that was the end of the engagement and the wedding.