Page 71 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
“I do not know why you do not allow the maid to do all this for you. You two ladies should not have to do this,” Ian’s mother remarked, but the three women smiled at one another.
“We have been here before, on each other’s wedding days, that is,” Rebecca replied.
“Which is why we were so upset to discover Catherine was to elope,” Samantha said.
“I must say, if I had known, I would have felt the same,” Ian’s mother said, and she smiled at them.
“Would you check on Ian? I fear he is quite nervous, far more so than the day we made our vows,” Catherine said, and the dowager baroness nodded.
“I will go at once. I am just so glad to be here,” Ian’s mother replied, and she left the room, reminding them that the carriages would soon be arriving.
“I like her,” Rebecca said, and Samantha nodded.
“It is clear she wishes to make amends for the past,” she said.
Ian’s mother had arrived the day before, bringing with her all manner of gifts and the insistence that Catherine and Ian join her at Ashcourt Park to take the country air immediately after the blessing.
“She has been nothing but good to us, and I believe she has every desire to make amends for the past,” Catherine replied.
Rebecca stepped back to admire her handiwork, and Samantha clapped her hands together in delight. “You look beautiful, Catherine, truly you do,” she said, as Catherine rose to her feet.
“You have both been extremely kind in helping me,” she said, glancing out of the window to where several open carriages had just pulled up in front of the house.
This being a blessing, rather than the day itself, Catherine and Ian were to travel together to the church, eschewing the usual tradition of separation. It was to be a procession, with Ian’s mother, Rebecca, and Samantha following in the carriage behind, and the other guests waiting them at the church.
“Then it would be remiss of us to allow you to be late. Come along, we must be leaving,” Rebecca said, and the three women joined arms, delighting in this most wonderful of moments.
Downstairs, they found Ian waiting for them with his mother. He was dressed in a new frock coat, a neatly pressed shirt, and a red cravat at the neck. He looked very handsome, his shoes highly polished, and a white carnation in his buttonhole. He smiled at them, and Catherine ran to meet him.
“I thought this day would never come,” she exclaimed, kissing him on both cheeks.
“I feared that, too,” he replied, and his mother tutted.
“Do not dwell on the past – that is a lesson for us all. Come now, are we not due at the church very soon?” she asked.
They made their way out of the house and down the steps to the waiting carriages. The servants had all turned out to see them off, and there were applause and congratulations as Ian helped Catherine up into the carriage, before taking his seat at her side. The others climbed into the carriage behind, and the procession set off along the drive and out onto the street. There was no more hiding now, no more secrecy or pretense. Catherine and Ian were in love, and now the whole world would know it.
“When we pretended out betrothal, did you ever think it would come to this? Did you ever imagine it?” she asked, and he laughed and shook his head.
“Not for a moment. I thought it merely a ruse, a pleasant game, but then I found my feelings altering, and the pretense become a truth. There could be no return from that,” he said, and she smiled.
“How glad I am to hear you say that. It was a pleasant game, but the truth is far better,” she replied.
“And did you think it more than a ruse? Did you intend for this?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“There was something of fate attached, of that, I am certain,” she said, and he laughed.
“Fate which brought me through the library door?” he said, and she smiled.
“And into my arms,” she replied.
A small crowd had gathered outside the church to welcome them, and the bells were peeling out a merry song in anticipation of the blessing. It was a fair day, breezy but fine, the sun bursting through wisps of cloud above, and Ian helped Catherine down from the carriage, the curate hurrying to greet them in a billowing white surplice.
“My Lord, welcome to you both. How pleased I am to see you,” he said, and Ian shook his hand.
“You must forgive the scandal of our wedding, but we are here to set matters straight before God and before our friends,” he said, and the curate bowed.
“And so, it shall be. Come now, we shall not delay,” he said, and together, arm in arm, Catherine and Ian followed him into the church, with their friends and family following behind.
