Chapter Seventeen
Jane studied the long tables laid out in the Gold Ballroom, May and Amy with her as they examined and exclaimed over all the wedding gifts.
They’d been pouring in since the engagement had become known throughout Society.
Much to her surprise, it was considered quite rude to imply a place such as Rollston lacked any art or furniture, so the table was an Aladdin’s cave of jewellery and objets.
There was a blue enamel watch set with diamonds and fastened to a gold chain with a sapphire lover’s knot from Benedict’s Aunt Louisa; pearls and diamonds; a purse of gold mesh set with garnets and diamonds in the clasp from Mrs Astor; a fan of lace with medallions painted by Watteau for Jane’s first ball as a duchess; silver bon-bon boxes, silver cups, silver snuff-boxes; combs set with pearls; crystal vinaigrettes with aquamarine stoppers; antique candlesticks; and books from every bookshop Jane had visited, which was many indeed.
‘Can you believe the new gossip?’ Amy said, examining a Sevres chocolate pot. ‘Paul Brosnahan has eloped with Florence Livingston! You know, Regina Van Joort’s friend? Who would have known?’
Not her, Jane thought with a shake of her head. Paul and Florence? It was beyond imagining. She hoped it meant he would be kind to Florence, give her a wealthy, happy life and leave Jane alone from then on.
May laughed. ‘That is nothing after Connor and Benedict got themselves arrested for riding bicycles towards Bailey’s Beach and we had to fetch them from the police station. You should have seen the constable’s face when he realised he was holding a duke!’
Jane shook her head, marvelling at the new Benedict, the one who laughed, rode bicycles and got arrested, who was free. Just as she was now.
‘My, dears, have you seen this?’ Jane’s mother said from her chair by the open windows, where she and Kate perused the newspapers for titbits about the upcoming wedding.
‘They say here your corset, my stoirin, is white satin embroidered with carnations by blind nuns in France, with stocking clasps of pure gold with diamonds.’
‘Well, it is white, but no diamonds or gold that I know of,’ Jane said, laughing with giddy happiness.
She thought of that corset, so beautiful, so elegant—and wondered what Benedict would think when he finally saw her in it.
She thought of her wedding dress, newly delivered from Worth, all silver-and-white satin and lace, a promise stitched into its beads and buttons.
She imagined how it would feel to wear it, how Benedict might look when he saw her appear at the aisle of Grace Church.
The nerves, the planning and the chaos all fell away, and what was left was just simple joy.
Especially when the door opened and Benedict appeared. She rushed to him and took his hand, staring up at him as if she could memorise him, memorise this moment and hold it close for all time.
‘Shall we walk on the terrace?’ she whispered. ‘Just for a little while before we are drawn into the Aladdin’s cave of wedding gifts again?’
He laughed. ‘You read my mind.’
As soon as they were alone, May’s and Amy’s giggles behind them, their lips met and clung in desperation.
Jane stared up at him, almost afraid this was all a dream, that she would wake and find none of this had happened.
But he was here, he was real, he was in her arms. ‘Oh, Benedict. Do be quiet and kiss me again!’
He smiled and softly kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Very gladly, my soon-to-be duchess.’
Overcome with emotion, she stretched up and placed her lips on his, kissing him with all her heart and soul.
He felt it too, the ‘for ever’ in that moment; she knew it from the hunger in his touch as he drew her so close, there was nothing between to hold them back now: no past, no future, no Society or dukes, just the two of them and that kiss.
‘Is this for ever?’ he whispered.
She stared up into his beautiful blue eyes, and she knew what she saw there. It was love, only love, and it was hers at last. ‘Oh, yes. Always and always, my most perfect duke.’