Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Ashbourne is locked up securely you said?” Benedict asked as he emerged from a long conference with Lady Esher. “Where?”
The party had ended abruptly several hours ago after news of the shooting in the paddock and then Benedict and Louisa’s return with their bound and gagged captive.
The news that Lord Ashbourne had disguised himself as Lady Huxley’s coachman and attempted to murder Lady Louisa Ascot had spread through the guests like wildfire.
It was the most shocking local event for decades. Doubtless many guests had gone straight home to write of it to friends and families and the tale would be across the country within a day or two.
“In the cellars at Barrow Manor,” Damien assured him, “guarded by a contingent of armed local constables, volunteer servants and young gentlemen. I believe Sir Arthur himself plans to sit outside with a pitchfork until three expert physicians arrive to certify the deranged state of Lord Ashbourne’s mind.
The Rosemere ladies are well-loved. No one has taken kindly to someone shooting Louisa, even if her injury was minor. ”
“That young groom deserves a reward for his part in foiling Lord Ashbourne,” remarked Benedict. “I’ve agreed with Lady Esher that I may offer him a role at Northwick, if he wants it.”
“Then you’ve decided to live there after you marry?” asked his friend curiously. “I wasn’t sure of your plans.”
“Perhaps six months of the year here and six months there,” Benedict replied. “It seems wrong to take Louisa away from a place she loves so much entirely.”
“Like Persephone in the Underworld,” suggested Damien with a grin.
“Except that in this case, Pluto will be at Persephone’s side, wherever she is,” clarified Benedict, “and I didn’t steal her away. Louisa is coming with me quite willingly.”
Damien laughed.
“You both got to the right point in the end, I see. Seraphine and I thought you probably would, but Louisa is a such a dreamer and you can be so obtuse. You are perfectly well-suited and she is in love with you.”
“I am in love with Louisa too,” admitted Benedict.
“I didn’t like to say so, but yes, you are…”
At the same moment, they both glanced at a hallway clock that showed the hour to be after three in the morning.
“Go and get some sleep,” Damien told him, clapping his friend on the arm. “I’m wondering what to tell the children in the morning.”
Benedict set his foot on the bottom stair and then turned back to Damien.
“Is Seraphine still with Louisa?” he asked, knowing that the two young ladies had gone upstairs together earlier with Louisa’s maid.
“No,” Damien confirmed levelly, asking no questions about Benedict’s curiosity. “Seraphine is back in our suite.”
“Goodnight, then.”
Walking upstairs, Benedict patted the pocket of his jacket that still held Louisa’s book. Rather than turning off towards his own rooms on the first floor, he continued up to the second floor and took the corridor towards her bedroom.
Smiling to see a faint line of light beneath the door, he knocked very quietly and then turned the handle and stepped inside.
Louisa was sitting up in her bed, her pillows propped at her back, a candle burning on the bedside table, and a book on the bed.
Her eyes wide and lips slightly open in surprise, she looked towards Benedict in astonishment and happiness.
He put a finger to his lips and then produced the book from his pocket.
“I was bringing this to you earlier tonight,” he whispered, holding it out to her, “before Ashbourne ruined everything. I wanted to give back our old dreams and make some new dreams with you too.”
Louisa’s smile was like sunshine, drawing him to the bed more surely than the gesture of her hand.
“Benedict,” she said very softly as he knelt beside the bed and placed the book beside her hand, noting the bandage now at her wrist. “That wicked man has not ruined our plans, only postponed them for another day or two.”
“Yes, I am too exhausted to be much good to you tonight, in any case,” he laughed. “I promise that I will be in full working order again by our wedding day, however.”
“My brave, good Benedict,” she murmured, stroking his hair and making him wish he could fall asleep right there with his head in her lap on the bed.
Continuing to stroke his hair in response to his sound of appreciation, Louisa picked up her book and gave a little laugh as she found the paper he had tucked into the front.
“What is this? It looks like a poem.”
Smiling, Benedict raised his head.
“I can’t write my own poetry so I hope you will excuse me for borrowing the words of one William Shakespeare, to express my feelings. I copied it out just for you.”
Taking the paper from her, Benedict read aloud to Louisa under his breath, lines so well-known and familiar to both of them that he barely needed to glance down and could appreciate the tender expressions of her face and tears glinting in her eyes.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate…
“It’s beautiful, Benedict,” she whispered when he reached the final line. “Thank you. I shall think of that when I go to sleep and when I wake up.”
Benedict kissed her a gentle goodnight, not wanting to leave but knowing that he should not linger here too long. There would be enough uproar tomorrow without Louisa’s maid finding him asleep on her mistress’s bed.
“Do you know what else I will think about, Benedict?” Louisa then asked him as he reached the door.
He shook his head, seeing a mischievous glint in her eye that went straight to his groin.
“I shall think about riding astride a horse with you, and feeling you behind me…”
Striding back to the bed, Benedict kissed Louisa again, more fully this time, his hand cupping her breast and drawing a slight moan from her throat.
“Just you wait,” he promised her with a grin as he pulled away again. “I will show you far better than that after I get you to the altar on Sunday…”
Their wedding day dawned bright and clear, showers on the previous day having enhanced the greenery and then conveniently blown away. Rosemere was still garlanded in many of the decorations from the engagement party.
Fresh flowers had been added and the larger rooms closed up, since the wedding breakfast was to be a small affair.
A few other close friends and relations had arrived from London or Scotland for the ceremony but there were no invitation lists or complex room arrangements to manage.
The servants went about whistling or chattering more than usual.
“Is Louisa ready, Seraphine?” asked Lady Esher, consulting her pocket watch as her married niece entered the room. “I do like to be punctual, and so does Mrs. Torrence, even if Mr. Torrence is less particular.”
Standing in the hallway outside the drawing room, Louisa smiled to herself on hearing her aunt’s affectionate fussing.
Then, she turned and beckoned to Fanny and Ezra, each carrying an armful of dolls while two nursemaids followed in their wake, picking up any that fell and placing them in a basket.
“Louisa has been ready for hours, Aunt Beatrice,” Seraphine replied to their aunt. “It was Fanny’s dolls who were holding things up in the bride’s bedroom.”
“Here we all are,” Louisa announced brightly, leading the way into the drawing room. “Look how beautifully all my bridesmaids are dressed.”
Fanny laughed happily and twirled about in her little dress of buttercup silk, while her dolls were dressed in every color of the rainbow, and Ezra was in the sweetest little suit and white carnation buttonhole that Louisa had been amused to see matched that of his father and, equally importantly, Uncle Benedict.
Louisa’s own dress was cream silk with a summer green sash and scattering of tiny satin rosebuds, real rosebuds being fixed in her hair with golden pins. She wore her mother’s pearls again and the small bandage at her left wrist was the only sign of her ordeal a few days earlier.
“They look very beautiful indeed,” agreed Aunt Beatrice. “Just like the bride. How are you feeling, Louisa? I hope you’re not too nervous. I was a little nervous on my wedding day, not about marrying dear Reginald, but that I might say my vows wrong, or trip on my dress.”
“I’m not nervous at all,” Louisa answered, speaking the truth. “In fact, I don’t think I could be happier…”
She stopped here and laughed, blushing a little, although no one here would know why.
After Louisa said something similar to Benedict yesterday afternoon, he had drawn her away into the woods, slid his hand beneath her skirts and fingered her to ecstasy, while assuring her that she could certainly still be happier yet and he intended to prove it.
“I’m very glad of that,” her aunt smiled. “Now, to the carriages, everyone, please. The gentlemen left twenty minutes ago.”
“But I’m a gentleman,” Ezra objected, at which his big sister laughed.
“All the gentlemen except Ezra left twenty minutes ago,” Louisa clarified. “For the bride must have a gentleman to escort her to her carriage, mustn’t she?”
Ezra nodded solemnly and took Louisa’s hand, happy to dump his share of Fanny’s dolls in the maid’s basket.
Benedict was waiting for her there at the altar in St. Anne’s church, just as Louisa had always pictured her bridegroom waiting. When he heard the doors open and turned his head to her, she looked into his blue-green eyes and smiled with such happiness that she thought her heart would burst.
I love you. I think I have always loved you…
Who else had Louisa ever expected to be standing here except this tall, dark and dashing hero who had saved her life and limb several times over, proving as well as professing his love? The fantasies of her youth were only shadows now of the the real man with whom Louisa would share her real life.
Benedict’s handsome face shone as he watched Louisa walk up the aisle towards him, Ezra toddling beside her on one side and Aunt Beatrice holding her arm on the other.
Behind them, Fanny carried her large basket of well-dressed dolls.
As best man, Damien grinned beside Benedict, his eyes as much for Seraphine as the bride or groom.
Louisa smiled to see local acquaintance around the back of the church and a smattering of family and friends in the front row.
There was Thalia and Laurent, Rosaline too, several little ones…
A figure in blue dashed down the far side of the church when Louisa was halfway and squeezed itself in beside Thalia.
Daphne?! How wonderful, after ten years! Her childhood friend must have come all the way from Paris for her wedding. Seraphine had said she would write to Daphne but Louisa had been in the doldrums at the time, still in shock at the sudden events that precipitated her betrothal.
The wedding party complete, Louisa reached Benedict’s side and passed her bouquet to Aunt Beatrice.
A ripple of laughter ran through the congregation as Ezra refused to release Louisa’s hand and the Duke of Northwick had to clarify that he was the one marrying Lady Louisa Ascot.
Damien resolved the issue and allowed the ceremony to begin by lifting Ezra in his arms and pronouncing him the deputy best man.
“Dearly beloved,” began Mr. Torrence, "we are gathered here together, in the sight of God, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…"
Louisa and Benedict looked into one another’s eyes. There was no scandal now, no obligation and no arrangement of convenience. Today there was only a celebration of love and the kind of duty that was joyful to fulfill.
“With this ring I thee wed,” said Benedict’s deep voice, raising the hand that already bore his ring to his lips and kissing it, “with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow…”
The words and the touch of his mouth shot through Louisa like fire, not caring what anyone in the church might think of the fact that she already wore his ring. It mattered more that Benedict spoke every vow with sincerity, promising himself to Louisa, as she pledged herself to him.
“…I pronounce that they be man and wife together. In the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Finally, it was done. Their hands clasped, the Duke and Duchess of Northwick turned at smiled at the equally beaming congregation, many of whom were already filing out of the church to be ready for when the newlyweds emerged.
“Guess where we’re sleeping tonight,” Benedict murmured to Louisa as they walked laughing through the rain of rice and rose petals along the church path and towards the carriage.
“Your suite?” Louisa guessed, feeling a small pang of dismay and embarrassment for not thinking about this earlier. “Oh, but that’s right by the nursery. There is my room but my bed is small and you are so big…”
“I am big enough but you will not find my size excessive,” Benedict teased her. “In fact, I hope you will find me just right.”
“Benedict, please!” Louisa both laughed and blushed, understanding his meaning perfectly well but also genuinely a little worried about the bedroom situation.
“Where are we going to sleep? There has been so much happening that I can’t believe we all forgot that we would need married accommodation after the wedding. ”
“We didn’t all forget,” Benedict told her.
“I have arranged for us to stay in the old Rosemere hunting lodge all week, out near the lake. It has been swept and fixed up for us. There is only one bedroom, but that is all we need, I suspect. The servants will come from the main house with meals, or to clean and tidy when we need them.”
“Oh Benedict!” Louisa exclaimed delightedly, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “Thank you. I could not think of anything more perfect!”
He took this opportunity to lift Louisa into his arms and carry her the rest of the way down the path, to cheers and applause from the gathered well-wishers.
“The more you say things like that, the more determined I become to prove you wrong,” Benedict warned her with a grin.
As their carriage pulled away, Louisa smiled and kissed her new husband lovingly on the lips, certain now that today had been the beginning of her dreams rather than the end.