Page 54 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

Don’t be afraid any more. It is right that I should take you now, Louisa…

Louisa knew that her breathlessness stemmed from this last scene as much as the fearful chasing that preceded it. Going to the washstand, she splashed her face with cold water. In little more than a week, she and Benedict must endure the engagement party and in two weeks time, they would be man and wife. Maybe her mind was only trying to prepare her for these ordeals.

Ordeals? The sight of The White Knight of Wanderham on her dressing table softened her feelings somewhat. Finding it lying on her bed, and with that beautiful white rose too, had been a comfort to her on returning to her room after tea yesterday. Benedict had clearly read the book, but he would not mock or tease her over it.

No, the Duke of Northwick was a good man at heart and it was no ordeal to marry him, only a disappointment of youthful ideals. The wedding would still be sad, of course, but it was hardly the tragedy it had first seemed.

Even lying with Benedict Hale would not really be an ordeal when the time came, would it? Although exciting, the thought of it still felt somewhat unreal and made Louisa rather nervous about the gaps in her practical knowledge.

I must speak to Seraphine before the wedding night and have her tell me more of coupling…

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“I’ve brought warm water for washing, Lady Louisa,” said Melissa cheerfully. “Lady Esher has already gone down for breakfast.”

As Louisa entered the breakfast room, the three others already sitting at the table looked up at her with serious faces, conversation ceasing.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she said with a small laugh, looking to her aunt, to Damien and then to Benedict.

Louisa supposed that Seraphine was in the nursery with the children and would join them shortly.

“Nothing that cannot wait,” replied Benedict calmly, folding and putting away some papers in his pocket.

Was it something to do with the marriage contract, Louisa wondered? Her aunt and future husband had both seemed ready to include Louisa in discussions and the latest version was expected back from the solicitors any day now. Louisa was well of age and it would be strange to keep anything from her.

While the title and estate of the Earl of Cavendish had passed to a distant cousin after Louisa’s parents died, her mother’s fortune, jewels and a generous dowry had come to Louisa. Perhaps there was some minor complication with one of the trusts and they did not see the need to burden her. She would ask Aunt Beatrice later.

“I thought we would all have a picnic tomorrow,” Aunt Beatrice pronounced cheerfully as Louisa sat down and helped herself to bread and coffee. “The gardeners are sure there will be rain by the end of the week, so we must make the most of the outdoors while the sun shines.”

“Ezra and Fanny will be happy if we spend the day out of doors,” remarked Louisa. “We should take some hoops and balls with us and have some games for them too.”

“Very good idea,” her aunt agreed. “I thought Mr. Terrence might also join us, if I send him a message this morning. Mrs. Terrence is away visiting her mother unfortunately, but he is keen to speak to both of you again before the wedding and we might as well combine business and pleasure.”

“Of course,” murmured Louisa, smiling at the thought of the busy little rector, a man of high principle but good nature, who took his job so very seriously, and did indeed make a point of having thorough conversations with any of his parishioners before conducting a wedding ceremony. “I would expect nothing less of him.”

Aunt Beatrice laughed and drank her coffee.

“Yes, Mr. Terrence always says he believes that counseling couples before the marriage saves him time and effort in counseling them after it.”

“I am not sure I wish to be counseled,” put in Benedict, although with a smile. “I am five-and-thirty after all.”

“Oh, just humor him,” Aunt Beatrice advised. “Our rector is a good sort of man and means well.”

“I’m sure Benedict can manage that,” Damien observed. “Now, where are we to have this picnic? After the incident yesterday, we will go out and look over the area in advance to make sure there are no disturbances.”

“In the field on the far side of the Rosemere lake, I thought,” proposed Lady Esher. “Then we have grass, woodland and water for the children to play.”

“Very good.”

Standing and bowing to the ladies, the two gentlemen took their leave.

“Do you really think the man in the orchard yesterday was Lord Ashbourne?” Louisa asked her aunt after they were gone. “I know Benedict is convinced, for he said it to all of us yesterday.”

Lady Esher nodded with a troubled expression.

“You should know, Louisa, that Lord Ashbourne has been writing some very peculiar and rather offensive letters to the Duke of Northwick. He has taken news of your engagement very badly indeed and it is not only on instinct that we suspect him, but on the grounds of his own words.”

“It seems so strange, Aunt Beatrice,” reflected Louisa further, frowning. “Lord Ashbourne visits Lady Huxley every summer and Christmas and has never even called on us here at Rosemere, has he? Why would he suddenly begin writing such letters to Benedict and stalking me about the estate?”