Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
The sun slanted through the tall windows of Aberon House, filling the parlor with golden light. A pot of steaming tea sat between a pyramid of cakes and a plate of delicate sandwiches, though hardly anyone was eating. At least, not while Lady Matilda Sterlington was recounting her story.
Hazel, Cordelia, and Evelyn sat arrayed before her like a rapt audience, each with a different expression: Hazel’s serene composure barely concealing her disbelief, Cordelia’s eyes wide as saucers, and Evelyn’s hand pressed to her lips to stifle either laughter or shock. It was difficult to tell which.
“And then,” Matilda said, trying for dignity but failing to suppress a smile, “he burst through the doors of the chapel as though he were leading a cavalry charge.”
Cordelia gasped, nearly spilling her tea. “He what?”
Matilda laughed softly, a touch of color rising in her cheeks. “He burst through the doors.”
Hazel blinked slowly. “Into the chapel.”
“Yes.”
“During communion,” Evelyn added.
“Yes,” Matilda admitted. “Though I do believe he thought I was taking my vows already. Hence the drama.”
Cordelia set down her teacup with a dramatic clatter. “Good heavens, Matilda! How very romantic!”
“Romantic?” Hazel echoed dryly. “It sounds like the sort of behavior that would have the bishop writing letters of protest.”
“Oh, don’t be so sensible, Hazel,” Cordelia cried. “Imagine it! A duke, storming into a convent for the woman he loves! It’s utterly divine.”
“Utterly scandalous,” Hazel corrected, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
Matilda shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I was furious, you know. I thought he had truly lost his mind. He shouted my name so loudly the poor sisters nearly fainted.”
“Oh, do it again,” Cordelia begged, leaning forward eagerly. “Say it as he did!”
“Cordelia!” Evelyn exclaimed, laughing. “She will not!”
But Matilda’s eyes danced with mischief. She straightened her back, lowered her voice, and with an air of solemn drama declared: “Matilda! Don’t do this, it’s a mistake!”
The three women dissolved into laughter.
Evelyn clutched her handkerchief, shaking her head. “Oh, Matilda… I wish I had seen it. The poor abbess must have been beside herself!”
“She was remarkably composed, all things considered,” Matilda said, remembering the kindly woman’s calm eyes. “Though I do believe several of the younger sisters thought the world was ending.”
“Or beginning,” Cordelia said dreamily. “Depending on how one looks at it.”
Hazel raised a brow. “And what happened then? After you finished scandalizing the entire abbey?”
Matilda hesitated, a small smile softening her features. “He told me everything. About his father, his vow, his fears… everything he had never spoken of to anyone. And then he… well, he proposed.”
Three voices erupted at once.
“He proposed there?”
“In the abbey courtyard?”
“Before nuns?”
Matilda’s laughter came freely now. “Yes, all of that.”
Cordelia clutched her heart dramatically. “He knelt down, didn’t he? Tell me he knelt!”
“He did,” Matilda said, her cheeks pink. “Right there in the courtyard. The abbess even said that if vows were to be made, they ought to be under God’s sky.”
“Oh, how perfectly poetic!” Cordelia sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I could simply swoon!”
Hazel gave her a look of affectionate exasperation. “You would swoon if your husband fetched you the correct shawl.”
“Well, yes,” Cordelia admitted, unbothered. “Mason rarely remembers which is which, so it is a rare occasion indeed.”
Evelyn laughed so hard she nearly dropped her teacup. “Matilda, truly, I am astonished. When you said you would go to the nunnery, I did not imagine you’d return with a proposal!”
Matilda smiled gently at her sister. “Neither did I.”
Hazel poured herself more tea, looking pleased. “You look happy, dear Matilda. In fact, you look happier than I’ve ever seen you.”
Matilda’s gaze dropped to her cup, her smile quiet but sure. “I am. I truly am.”
Cordelia sighed in delight. “Oh, I adore a happy ending. And from a nunnery, no less! It’s as if one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s heroines escaped her tower and married the villain turned hero.”
Evelyn laughed. “Cordelia, only you could compare matrimony to Gothic fiction.”
Hazel nodded. “And yet, I see her point.”
The laughter had only just begun to fade when Cordelia exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Hazel and Evelyn. A look passed between the three women that Matilda caught immediately.
Her brows drew together. “What was that look?”
Evelyn feigned innocence, taking a measured sip of her tea. “Whatever do you mean?”
“That look,” Matilda repeated, her eyes narrowing. “The one that usually precedes mischief.”
Cordelia set her cup down with a too-innocent clink. “Mischief? Us?”
“Yes, you,” Matilda said, half-laughing. “What are you hiding?”
Hazel folded her hands neatly in her lap, her expression as serene as ever, though a suspicious sparkle danced in her eyes. “Well,” she said slowly, “since the happy ending is already secured, I suppose we can tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Matilda demanded.
Evelyn looked as though she could barely contain her amusement. “Matilda, my dear… we may have had a small hand in your good fortune.”
Matilda stared. “A small hand?”
Cordelia clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, very small! Hardly worth mentioning. Just a hint here, a word there, an invitation or two—”
“I knew it!” Matilda exclaimed.
“Cordelia thought it best to arrange a setting where you might both be… reminded of your compatibility.” Hazel admitted, entirely too calm for a woman confessing such a scheme.
Cordelia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, and I said that nothing sparks romance like a well-timed stroll and a bit of rain!”
“The rain?” Matilda gasped. “You didn’t—”
“Oh, heavens, no!” Cordelia said quickly. “Even I cannot control the weather, my love. But I might have encouraged a servant to misplace a few umbrellas near the terrace.”
Evelyn bit her lip to keep from laughing. “And I might have mentioned, in passing, how lovely the western gardens are at dusk, knowing, of course, that Jasper was on his way there.”
Matilda stared at her sister, utterly scandalized. “You plotted against me!”
Hazel’s lips curved into a faint smile. “For your own good.”
“My own good? I nearly joined a convent!”
“Yes,” Hazel said, utterly unrepentant. “And we were not about to let that stand.”
Cordelia reached across and patted Matilda’s knee affectionately. “You must understand, darling, you and the Duke were unbearable. All that staring, all that witty bickering, it was agonizing. We had to intervene for the sake of our nerves.”
Evelyn laughed so hard she nearly spilled her tea. “Hazel said she’d sooner spend a week with unruly children than endure another dinner where you two glared at each other across the table.”
“Hazel!” Matilda gasped, trying and failing to sound affronted.
Hazel only raised an elegant brow. “I stand by it.”
Matilda pressed a hand to her forehead, torn between disbelief and laughter. “So, all this time, you were conspiring?”
Evelyn squeezed her hand, her voice gentler now. “Not conspiring, dearest, helping. We only wanted you to see what was already there. You’ve been so determined to protect yourself from hurt that you nearly missed your own happiness.”
Matilda’s indignation softened. Her gaze drifted down to her teacup, where the reflection of sunlight trembled faintly in the amber liquid. “You truly all believed this would work?” she asked quietly.
Cordelia leaned forward, grinning. “Of course! We had faith in you both, though I did give even odds that you would slap him before kissing him.”
“Cordelia!” Evelyn gasped, laughing again.
Hazel sipped her tea with perfect composure. “She’s not wrong.”
Matilda shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You are all impossible.”
“And you,” Hazel said with a soft, proud smile, “are finally happy. So I would call it a triumph.”
Matilda looked around at the faces of the women who had been her strength, her solace, and now apparently her scheming matchmakers. Affection rose in her chest, mingling with a helpless laugh.
“Perhaps,” she said, “I should be angry. But I suppose I cannot, since your plan worked far too well.”
Cordelia beamed. “Ha! I knew it would! I said from the very beginning, he only needed to be properly provoked.”
Evelyn giggled. “You mean you provoked both of them.”
“I do what must be done,” Cordelia said primly, reaching for a scone.
Hazel’s laughter was quiet but warm. “And now our work is complete. Lady Matilda Sterlington is to become a duchess.”
Matilda rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks still flushed. “You sound insufferably pleased with yourselves.”
Cordelia raised her teacup like a toast. “We are.”
Evelyn joined her, while laughter sparkled in her voice. “To friendship, foolishness, and love found in the most inconvenient of places.”
“And to meddling,” Hazel added wryly.
Matilda laughed, raising her own cup. “To meddling, then.”
And as the clink of porcelain filled the room and their laughter mingled with the golden afternoon light, she thought there was no sound in the world as dear as that of her friends, her conspirators, celebrating the love she had once sworn she would never find.