Chapter 20
The parlour had been transformed by the addition of several vases of flowers, among which Lady Montgomery’s bouquet held pride of place in the centre of the table.
Lord and Lady Lennox renewed their acquaintance with the old lady, resplendent in a puce gown embellished with gold lace, and holding an ebony cane with a silver handle in the shape of an eagle’s head.
Diamonds flashed at her throat and wrists, and she was even wearing a finely wrought tiara in her white hair.
Lord Lennox bent over her hand, lightly kissing the tips of her thin, silk-clad fingers. ‘I am pleased to see you looking so splendid, my lady, despite having journeyed so far.’
‘Yes, I confess it has been a great inconvenience—at my age one does not travel happily. My nephew and your daughter have been leading us a merry dance.’ She pressed her thin lips together.
Despite her words, Lord Lennox could see she was rather amused by this adventure, and his impression was confirmed when she went on to say, ‘However, I cannot deny I am pleased he has finally won her over, even if he nearly killed himself doing so. He has been obsessed with her for quite a while.’
Lord Lennox smiled. ‘Yes, the course of true love has been littered with obstacles, I fear.’
Lady Lennox said, ‘I’m afraid our daughter can be rather headstrong.’ She also looked well, in a gown of pale orange crape with a tulle overdress and ruffles at the hem.
‘Well, Argyle too can be obstinate, and arrogant—quite insufferable, in fact. But he has some sterling qualities, and I would not have liked him to marry for mere convenience. I am rather fond of him, you see.’
Marguerite came in, holding her posy in her hands, followed by her beloved. She bowed her head to the assembled company, a wide smile on her face, then went up to Lady Montgomery, curtsying and taking her hand.
The old lady said, ‘Let me look at you, girl. Yes, you will do. I hear you have been putting my nephew in his place?’
Marguerite grinned. ‘I try to, ma’am. He can be exceedingly annoying sometimes.’
‘I am sure. I am glad he has met his match.’
‘We are of a mind, now.’
‘I should certainly hope so. Well, when you are back in London, you will come and see me and tell me all about it.’
‘I would like that. And thank you for the flowers, they have eclipsed all the ones we had managed to procure.’ Marguerite embraced her parents.
Her mother said, ‘You look lovely, ma chérie.’
‘Thank you, Maman. I am happy.’
Her father grinned. ‘I told you things would become clear. I am only sorry it took an accident to do it. I assume you are marrying for love?’
She laughed at him. ‘Of course, Papa. I always said I would, didn’t I?’
Her mother sighed. ‘I wish you had accepted His Grace’s offer in the first place, ma chérie. Things would have been simpler.’
‘But not nearly as much fun, I am sure,’ said Lady Montgomery. ‘What’s life without a little drama?’
‘I did not even like him then, Maman. I found him arrogant, and—’
Argyle cut in. ‘Please do not regale us with a complete list of my shortcomings just now, my heart. Let us join the vicar. Before I change my mind.’ He took her hand and dragged her off, with Alice following, trying to stifle a giggle—leaving her mother rolling her eyes, and her father exchanging an amused glance with Lady Montgomery.
Marguerite and Argyle greeted the vicar, a spare man with kindly eyes and thinning grey hair. He asked everyone to gather around; Alice stood next to the bride, and Lady Lennox took out her handkerchief and vinaigrette.
Hearing the vicar’s words, Argyle and Marguerite turned to each other, exchanging such an intimate look that Lady Lennox was overwhelmed—she glanced at her husband and saw he also had a tear in his eye. He clutched her hand and blew his nose loudly into a large handkerchief.
After the brief ceremony, the Mowatts bustled about, laying the table, helped by Curtis and Flossie. The newlyweds sat on the sofa, while Marguerite’s parents, Lady Montgomery, Alice and the vicar took the armchairs.
Lady Montgomery said, ‘You look like the cat that has got the cream, Argyle.’ She hit his leg with the tip of her cane.
‘I feel like the cat that has got the cream, Aunt Eliza.’ Argyle smiled and held Marguerite’s hand tightly. ‘It has not been easy getting it, as well you know.’
Marguerite looked at him, then at his aunt. ‘How did you know, ma’am?’ She thought, irreverently, that Lady Montgomery’s profile resembled the eagle on her cane, and smiled a little.
Lady Montgomery said, ‘He asked for my advice when he had made a mull of it. I told him to persevere.’
Marguerite laughed. ‘I was unimpressed, at first.’
Lady Lennox said, ‘Well, ma chérie, at least you have seen your husband at his worst, so—’
‘Non, Maman, he has been at his best: calm, kind, appreciative…’
‘Unrecognisable, then,’ Lady Montgomery said briskly. ‘I see you have not lost the opportunity to seize the upper hand, my dear. Make sure you keep it.’
Alice said, ‘Well, you have caused all our friends to talk of nothing else for days—the accident, and now the wedding. A fair number of the men are jealous of His Grace, and a few girls of you, Marguerite.’
‘Only a few?’ Lord Lennox raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘Most of the girls are terrified of His Grace, Uncle. He can be a little…er…overpowering.’
They all laughed. Marguerite said, ‘Unsmiling and arrogant—I always thought so. It is a good thing I have seen behind the facade.’ She glanced at her new husband, who glowered at her.
Mrs Mowat had outdone herself producing a feast that, though less sophisticated, lacked nothing in taste compared to the food prepared by Lord Lennox’s French chef.
They gathered around the table, and the vicar, eyeing the delicacies on offer, said, ‘This is by far the most unusual wedding I have celebrated, but there is a lot to be said for having everything under one roof. And all this looks most delicious.’
Marguerite said, ‘Mrs Mowat is the most marvellous cook, Reverend. You will see. She had been spoiling us.’ She poured him a glass of wine.
Mrs Mowat, slicing a roast with a large knife, said, ‘Seeing as Her Grace has spent many a morning scrubbing and peeling my potatoes, it was the least I could do.’
Marguerite laughed. ‘How strange to have suddenly become ‘Her Grace’.’
Her father had come up to them; he put his arm around her shoulder and said, ‘My daughter, the potato-scrubbing duchess.’
The reverend said, ‘It is a skill that will always stand one in good stead. I raise my glass to all you good people—this has been an honour, and a pleasure.’
After they had eaten Marguerite took Alice apart and they spent a few minutes talking and giggling quietly.
Alice recounted their friends’ various reactions to the news of her marriage: approval, envy, surprise.
In the case of some of the men, ruefulness.
Marguerite asked about Felix Crampton—she still felt guilty about giving him false hope.
Alice said, ‘He was quite down in the mouth for a while. But I am sure he will recover—it is not as if he had made an offer, after all.’
Lady Lennox said, ‘What are you two plotting over there?’
As they went back to join the others, Marguerite whispered in her cousin’s ear, ‘The next wedding will be yours. To Charles.’
Alice said, ‘I am fully intending it to be. I have made my plan.’
Marguerite laughed, then a small frown line appeared between her brows. ‘Should you succeed in your enterprise, I hope Thomas will be pleasant to Charles. I really want us to continue seeing each other often.’
Alice said, ‘Do not worry, it was Charles’s regard for you he objected to. Now that he knows you are his, he will soon unbend towards him.’
‘I must make sure he does. I am very fond of Charles, as you know.’ They smiled at each other.
Lady Montgomery raised her voice, ‘Oh, I almost forgot. Argyle, I brought a note for you someone delivered this morning.’ She searched through her reticule and passed a letter to her nephew.
Argyle broke the wafer and scanned the single sheet of foolscap. A smile lit up his face and he looked at his new wife. ‘I have good news, my love. The injured horse is much improved—he will make a full recovery.’
Marguerite beamed and said, ‘Oh, I am so glad. That is the best wedding present I could have had.’
Argyle said, ‘The icing on the cake.’
As if on cue, Mrs Mowat entered the parlour bearing a large, iced wedding cake. She said, ‘I made a big one so that you can send pieces to all your friends in London, who are not here today.’ She looked at Marguerite meaningfully and added, ‘And we shall save some for the first christening.’