Chapter 36 - Vera
One month later, Miss Vera Ashbury and Lord Winthrop stood before a small grouping of family and friends in the parlor of Devon Manor. The bride wore a beaded, light grey silk dress, one that Dahlia had slipped in amongst the orders for her mourning period.
It was as if she’d known, Vera thought.
Undoubtedly, it would have been a scandal for her to marry Stephen so soon at all—custom dictated that Vera be in full mourning for her mother for at least three months.
However, Vera decided that she’d given enough of her life up for her mother and wasn’t going to continue to do so after the woman was gone.
Her veil was the most romantic delicate lace, and it swathed her from head to toe.
When Vera appeared in the doorway, clutching a bouquet of pale pink cabbage roses, the groom nearly staggered beneath the weight of her beauty.
Neither of them could tear their eyes from the other during their vows, even when Anne began to fuss and was removed by a tutting Hortense.
The Marquess of Salisbury had insisted upon hosting the celebration, as his wife had insisted upon attending the event. She was to give birth to their first child any day, and Percy’s worry had grown right along with his wife.
“He’s hired a footman to stand at every staircase to assist me up or down,” Adelaide said later, at the wedding luncheon. “It’s completely unnecessary—I’m well able to use the handrail.”
Vera secretly doubted it—the woman could barely sit close enough to the table to reach her plate.
Just then, a discordant clanging erupted from the sideboard.
“That blasted clock,” Percy said, shoving back from the table. “I’ve reset it a hundred times and it still clangs at odd hours. If it hadn’t been a gift from you, Candace, I’d chuck the thing.”
Vera rolled her lips inward and raised her eyebrows when she glimpsed the terrible clock.
It was a stack of porcelain lemons, limes, and oranges in a basket.
The thing was positively ghastly, and Vera knew full well that Candace had never intended upon purchasing it in the first place.
Then again, that was an entirely different story.
Across the table, Candace caught Vera’s eye and gave her the barest of winks. It threatened to topple her straight into laughter, and she forced herself to look elsewhere before she succumbed.
“How’s the new house, Jacqueline?” Adelaide asked. “Are you feeling settled yet?”
“I must confess it does feel a bit lonely.”
It was only because she happened to be looking at him at the moment that Vera saw Hamish go very still.
“Even with your animals?” Candace said.
“Indeed. Perhaps I will add to my collection.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Something larger this time,” the dowager baroness said lightly.
“We haven’t yet divested ourselves of all Seamus’s offspring,” the Duke of Canterbury said. “Would a puppy be welcome?”
Jacqueline wrinkled her nose. “I’d prefer something already house-trained.”
Hamish’s expression now contained stark hope.
“Children are out, then,” Percy grumbled from down the table. “Do you know that a newborn needs a fresh nappy upwards of twelve times a day?”
Adelaide shook her head, one hand on her belly. “No one wants to hear about it, my love. Especially not at the dining table.”
“It’s not as if you’ll do the job yourself,” Candace said.
Percy frowned. “I could. If I so chose. If I wanted.”
“But no one does want to.”
“I bet Canterbury did it.”
“He’d never be so crude to speak of it, if he had,” Candace said.
“And certainly not at the dining table, Percy,” Adelaide added, more firmly this time.
“Very well. It was a shocking number, is all. I don’t even think dogs need to relieve themselves that often—”
“Percy!” Adelaide snapped.
Percy clamped his mouth closed and mulishly stabbed at his slice of cake.
Candace smiled. “I think it hilarious that my brother repeatedly attempts to keep us away for fear we’ll upset his wife, when it seems that he does the job better than any of us could.”
Percy glowered at her.
“It’s our husbandly duty, my dear,” James said. “To vex and provoke our wives.”
“I hardly think that should be a goal.”
“It lends a lovely fire to your eyes.”
Candace turned to him, scowling. “Are you saying I’m prettier when I’m angry?”
“You see? You’ve proven my point, dearest.”
Candace pursed her lips and returned to her dessert.
Vera gave a small smile as Stephen finished his first piece and motioned for another. How the man stayed trim with a sweet tooth like his, she’d never know. If she ate as Stephen did, she’d look…well, she’d look like Bertrand in a wig.
“Do you regret that your family isn’t here today?” Stephen murmured as the table struck up a debate about betting on the Salisburys’ new arrival.
“I swear you read my mind sometimes.” Vera smiled. “But no. I wouldn’t change anything. My brothers and father met you while we were in London, and that’s more than I thought to have. I’m perfectly happy.”
“I’m sure they’ll visit soon.”
She nodded. “Father says he plans on coming in the spring.”
“I love you very much, Vera. I’m thrilled you didn’t kill me with that fire poker when we first met.”
Vera nearly choked on her bite of cake; she coughed. “I thought we’d moved past that nicely.”
“I’d say this is a very unexpected resolution to our beginning, yes.”
“A very delightful resolution.”
“And yet,” he said, picking up her lace-gloved hand and depositing a warm kiss upon her palm, “this is just the beginning.”
“Twelve times a day, Stephen!” Percy bellowed from the end of the table.
“Percy!”