Chapter Twenty Eight #2
“Kate let me in not ten minutes ago,” Elliot said as his fingers crept across the expanse of the table toward the plate once more. “I’m invited for breakfast.”
Mrs. Norris arched a brow in patent disbelief. “Is that so?”
Kate’s voice floated down the staircase from the upper floor, dry and droll. “He is indeed invited for breakfast, Mrs. Norris.”
All last vestiges of restraint erased, Elliot snatched up a pastry and chomped down. “Spare me at least a little pity,” he begged of Mrs. Norris between desperate bites. “I’ve been up for hours already; I’m half-starved.”
Mrs. Norris gave a disdainful sniff.
“And you make the best walnut pastries I’ve ever tasted,” Elliot added in a wheedling tone as he reached for a second pastry. There; the sound of Kate’s footsteps upon the stairs. “Incidentally, are there any more? We’ll be having a few guests in short order.”
“I beg your pardon,” Mrs. Norris said, her mouth dropping open at his temerity. “Guests?”
“Lord and Lady Crewe,” he said, “And Drew, more’s the pity—”
“Elliot,” Kate said reproachfully as she whisked into the room, casting him a faintly censorious glance—though the twitch of her lips suggested some manner of amusement. “Be nice. He is your brother.”
“He’s a menace to society and to me in particular,” Elliot said. And then, “Ouch!” as Mrs. Norris swatted his hand away from a third pastry. He pulled a pout, asking sullenly, “What was that for?”
Mrs. Norris sniffed, “As you’ve decided to inflict guests upon this household with no notice whatsoever, you’ll reserve the rest of these for those guests.”
“Could we not trouble you for a few more, Mrs. Norris?” Kate asked as she slid into her seat, smoothing at the soft blue silk of her skirts.
“I had the dubious pleasure of Lord Andrew’s company for breakfast yesterday, and I’m not certain what is left will sustain him, let alone anyone else.
Ah,” she said, brightening. “Here’s Mama. ”
Mrs. Littlefield swept in, joy shining in her face as she rounded the dining table, headed straight for Elliot. “Oh, my darling boy,” she said as she pinched his cheeks in an excess of affection. “Kate has just told me the news.”
“She is delighted, as you can see,” Kate drawled as she poured herself a cup of tea. “Mama, you are squishing Elliot’s face.”
“He doesn’t mind it,” Mrs. Littlefield declared, her eyes glistening behind the lenses of her spectacles. “Do you?”
“Not at all,” Elliot said congenially. Or tried to, because his face was rather squished between her palms at the moment, and so it had come out in a bit of a mumble. “But I really would like another pastry.”
Mrs. Norris threw up her hands. “If someone might tell me why I am expected to feed half of London!”
From the doorway, Hodges intoned in notes of confusion, “Lord and Lady Crewe have arrived. For the…wedding?”
“The wedding!” Taken aback, Mrs. Norris placed one hand over her heart as her brows vaulted toward her hairline. “Whose wedding?”
“Mine,” Elliot said, and snatched up a third pastry the instant Mrs. Littlefield released his face, taking advantage of Mrs. Norris’ shocked distraction.
“And Kate’s,” he said as he bit into it.
“We are getting married. The reverend ought to be here in a half an hour or so. So, about those pastries…”
“Pastries?” Richard asked as he and Rebecca settled into chairs of their own. “Love a pastry,” he said as he reached for one. “Are those walnuts?”
“Mrs. Norris’ own recipe,” Elliot said. “They’re delicious.” And swiftly disappearing. “Please, couldn’t we have just a few more? It is my wedding day.”
“And mine,” Kate interjected dryly.
“But how?” Mrs. Norris asked. “You have got to have a license, a ring—”
“I have got both,” Elliot said. “It has been a terribly busy morning. I’ve been up since well before dawn, beating down various doors.
” He stretched his hand across the table toward Kate, who clasped his fingers in hers.
“We didn’t want a long engagement, nor to stay overlong in London.
We want to be back in Northampton, building our home.
But we’d rather begin our marriage here, in the company of those we love best.”
Mrs. Norris choked back a little sob and dashed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re getting married here?”
“Of course. We wanted you and Hodges both to attend,” Elliot said. “With a special license, we can marry when and where we please. And that is going to be here. Today.”
Mrs. Norris sniffled, her eyes watering as she swept around the table to enfold Kate in a gentle embrace. “Oh, my dear girl,” she said. “I am so happy for you.”
Elliot cleared his throat pointedly.
“For you both,” Mrs. Norris corrected with a joyful little sniffle. “And just this once, I will bake extra pastries. On account of your wedding.” Scrubbing at her eyes, she retreated once more to the kitchen.
A surly grumble proceeded Drew into the room only a few moments later.
“What manner of chaos are you causing now?” Drew groused to Elliot as he slung himself into a chair and lurched for the teapot to pour himself a cup.
“It’s beyond the pale to send anyone—even family—a summons at such an hour. And why is Mrs. Norris crying?”
“Happiness,” Elliot said. “You’re just in time to attend our wedding. I wouldn’t have invited you, but Kate insisted—” He jerked, flinching. “Kate, it’s quite rude to kick people beneath the table.”
“It’s quite rude to insinuate your brother isn’t welcome,” Kate responded primly.
“Hell,” Drew grunted as he poured himself a cup of tea. “Congratulations are in order, then, I suppose.” He lifted his tea cup in a mock-salute. “Congratulations,” he said to Kate, though the dry tone of his voice suggested that she had earned his condolences instead. “He’s your problem, now.”
Behind the rim of her own cup, Kate smiled.