Snowed By the Wallflower (Revenge of the Wallflowers #48)

Chapter 13

Two months later

Wynnwood Hall provided an impressive wedding breakfast, and Bel’s aunts wondered how many succession houses had been emptied of flowers to fill it. The ladies lingered with their backs to a window that would have provided a panorama of the countryside while they sipped champagne and surveyed the room.

Between them, they counted three earls, two viscounts and a baron. Ridgemont’s military colleagues had come to support him. The Duchess of Haverford herself attended as did her son the marquis. Bel’s friend Merrilyn and her husband Sir Darius Finchwater, prominent in London’s scientific set, chatted with the Earl of Westhampton, whose son Peter Hartley was also present. Cecil, of course, was nowhere to be found.

Their primary attention, however, was not on the guests.

“For someone who complained long and loud about not wanting to rush her, Ridgewood certainly made short work of it,” Violet, Countess of Hartwell sniffed, studying the happy couple.

Flora, Marchioness of Gilford elbowed her sister. “Bel is positively radiant, as well she should be. She snatched a ducal heir, the catch of the year, right out from under the noses of the current crop of debutants.”

“Not to mention, it is a love match,” Violet sighed.

The two women stared at their niece, chatting with the Duke of Wynnwood and the Duchess of Haverford across the drawing room. She and her beloved had hovered in each other’s orbit since the ceremony that morning in the village church, his hand finding hers often, hers touching him just as frequently.

“The duke certainly seems pleased. I’m delighted he has such a discerning eye for worth,” Flora said.

The Duke of Wynnwood had taken Bel to his heart as soon as he met her.

“He must be. I understand he has commissioned a chemistry laboratory to be built on the grounds. Who would have thought he’d encourage Bel’s peculiar interests,” Violet added.

Laughter from the corner distracted her. Peter Hartley stood behind Sophie’s chair, and two other young men were in attendance. “Now, Flora, what shall we do with Sophie? This association can’t help but enhance her chances.”

Flora studied her daughter smiling up at something Peter Hartley said to her. “My dear, Sophie can handle herself.”

And so she could.

The End