Chapter Twenty
Sedgwick Hall, Guildford, three weeks later
Prue’s father’s memorial drew people from all walks of life, from the Prince Frederick, Duke of York to the tenant farmers and the stableboy.
Mr. Wallace spoke eloquently, as did others, and to hear her father given the respect he deserved and talked of with such affection made Prue’s chest swell.
Jack had accompanied her and Gramma, and she found his calm, masculine presence, as always, hugely supportive.
Her distant cousin, Mr. Richard Stanton, had now inherited the earldom and seemed a modest, sensible man in his mid-forties with blue eyes and a pleasant, tanned face from working outdoors.
He admitted to some experience of running an estate, although on a smaller scale, and expressed interest in the modern methods recently employed, intimating he would like to learn more about her father’s ideas.
It heartened Prue to hear it. Wishing to tell Jack about it, she found him engaged with the two men, the Duke of York, who was the Commander-in-Chief of the British army, and Lord Castlereagh, the Foreign Minister.
Roland Stanton’s name was not mentioned. He had been hanged, still protesting his innocence, a week ago, joined on the scaffold by Will Darby.
Jack came to her side. “We should go, sweetheart. Lady Aldridge grows tired.”
“Don’t tell Gramma that.” Prue laughed. “She would be highly insulted.”
They stood together as a footman assisted Gramma up the carriage steps.
“Tomorrow, I’ll get the license,” Jack said. “We can be married as soon as you and your great-grandmother wish.” He edged closer, his voice husky, his breath stirring the curl near her ear. “But make it soon, my love.”
The look in his eyes was a promise that set Prue’s heartbeat thumping and nervous excitement to build in the pit of her stomach. “I intend to,” she whispered.
“Hurry, or we’ll be here for dinner.” Gramma’s voice floated out from within the confines of the coach. “Plenty of time for that when you are married,” she said as Prue settled beside her and Jack sat opposite with his back to the horses. “When is this wedding to be, then?”
“We were just discussing it, Gramma. Jack is to purchase a special license so we don’t have to pick which of our churches is to read the banns and then have to wait for three weeks.”
“Good.” Gramma nodded. As the horses leaped forward, she settled into the corner and closed her eyes.
Jack leaned over and took Prue’s hand.
“I’m not asleep,” Gramma said.
They grinned at each other.
Prue talked about the wedding, a small one—and Jack, the honeymoon, a brief stay in Brighton before their return to live at Jack’s estate.
“Shall we attend the Season next April?” he asked.
“Won’t you be too busy?” It was an oblique reference to Jack’s work, which had not been mentioned.
He smiled, as if he read her thoughts. “I intend to resign before the wedding.”
“You won’t miss it?”
“No. It does not seem to fit in my life anymore. I prefer to spend more time at my estate, which, to my shame, I have left the running of to others. Now I am keen to make improvements.”
“I should like to help,” she said, unable to hide her eagerness. “Papa treated me as he would have treated the son he and Mama hadn’t been blessed with, taking me with him and instructing me on estate matters. It has been my dream to put that knowledge into practice.”
“I am counting on it,” he said. “And if you can’t accompany me throughout the day…” He paused, and his meaningful look brought warmth to her cheeks. “Then we shall discuss the day’s news during dinner.”
*
When Damian joined Jack that evening in the club library, he took a chair beside him, his gaze assessing. “Something has changed since I saw you last; you look like the cat who snatched the fish.”
Jack grinned and then turned to the waiter to order a bottle of wine. “I have a good deal to tell you, but first, something particular to ask of you.”
“What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Will you be my best man at my wedding to Lady Prudence?”
“Jack!” Damian leaped out of the chair and leaned over to thump Jack on the back.
“Congratulations! So, you have been caught in the parson’s mousetrap.
You were so resistant to the idea of marriage, I didn’t think to see the day!
Sharing your life with the right woman is wonderful.
Lady Prudence must be an exceptional lady. ”
Jack’s smile widened in approval. “She is.”
“I would be pleased to. I have always wanted to return the favor. Where and when is the wedding to be?”
“Because Prudence is still in mourning, it will be a quiet affair held at St. Mary Magdalene in Richmond, in a sennight.”
“A handsome church,” Damian said. “And where will you hold the wedding breakfast?”
“It will be held at Prudence’s great-grandmama, Lady Aldridge’s ancient, Gothic mansion in Richmond on the Thames.”
“I cannot wait to tell Diana. She will be thrilled for you.”
“I would like Prudence to meet my friends before the wedding. What are my chances of enticing Hugh and Lucy to come to town?”
Damian laughed. “They’ll be here with bells on.”
“Good. I will arrange it for, say… Friday next?”
“Suits me.” Damian stood as more of their friends entered the room. “I wish I had put that bet in White’s betting book.” He waved the three gentlemen over. “Jack has news that will surprise you.”
They crowded around and before long, others joined them in the dining room for what became an impromptu bachelor dinner, which lasted until the small hours.
A touch bosky after the many celebratory glasses of champagne and brandy, Jack smiled as he made his way home from White’s as dawn broke over the city.
This warm feeling was foreign to him, making him aware of how much he had changed.
Prudence—beautiful, courageous, and smart—would always surprise and challenge him, and he had never looked forward to the future as eagerly as he did now.
After incessant rain, the sun appeared on the day of the wedding.
Some important personages attended, which drew quite a crowd outside the Richmond church.
Jack wished his parents could be there to see him marry Prudence.
Father would have been delighted, and he believed his mother would have been too.
Her remains had been released. At the Chilham church, a stone’s throw from Glenhaven Park, while Prudence was busy organizing their wedding.
She had wanted to come with him but understood why Jack needed to be alone, to put the ghosts to rest. He had stood silently as his mother had been laid to rest in the family crypt beside his father.
When he turned away, he relegated that part of his life to the past and eagerly faced the future with Prudence.
Standing at the altar beside Damian, Jack had felt as if a tremendous weight had lifted from his shoulders.
He could no longer deny himself the chance to be happy.
Prudence looked enchanting in a graceful white net gown over a pastel-green satin slip, and a small veil over her auburn hair, as she walked down the aisle on her cousin Richard’s arm.
Emotions washed over him: love for his beautiful bride and the warmth of good friends who filled the pews, who were now Prudence’s friends too.
Prudence joined him where he stood at the altar.
Seeing her eyes filled with love for him was all he needed.
Any doubts he had had he attributed to the fear that he would not make her a good husband.
That he might disappoint or hurt her. But he had put all that behind him, and God willing, their lives together would be perfect.