Page 70 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
Chapter Twenty-Five
Margaret’s first thoughton waking was there could be no better way to start a busy day than waking in Hal’s arms, but then he proved her wrong and also showed her that he was no longer fatigued.
After a very satisfying interlude, he retreated to his room to wash and dress, grumbling as he left that he supposed they should put in an appearance.
“Since the day is about us, we should,” she retorted. “And may I remind you that the compromise was your idea? I was all for having your foster mothers at the breakfast the Stancrofts are hosting for us tomorrow.”
Lily had been adamant that it would just not do for her and her friends to mix with Margaret’s friends. “We will come to the church, since Snowy insists,” she had conceded. “We will not set the whole of the ton talking by inserting our sinful selves into your wedding breakfast. The focus of the day is you and Snowy.”
She shook her head when Margaret opened her mouth to argue. “If we are there, we’ll have half the young bucks speculating about whether their friendship with the pair of you will get them a discount in the sack, and half of their fathers avoiding the eyes of any of us they’ve bedded. And all the ladies tearing great holes in your reputation and that of your children to the sixth generation.”
Margaret assured Lily that she and Hal did not care about small-minded gossips, but Lily would not budge.
Hal’s suggested compromise was that his foster mothers come to lunch at Margaret’s townhouse on the day before the wedding. Delighted, Poppy had offered to provide the lunch, and Margaret had suggested that all six ladies stay the night so they could travel to the church together in the morning.
Ned and Pauline were tucking into breakfast when she and Hal arrived downstairs. “Is it true the Cyprians from the brothel are all coming to lunch today?” Ned asked, almost before they had had a chance to say good morning.
“Hal’s family are joining us for lunch in a pre-wedding celebration,” Margaret informed him, “and I will thank you to treat them all as ladies, and not to use those words in their presence or mine.”
“Sorry,” said Ned cheerfully. “So how many of them are coming? Are they pretty? I hear the House of Blossoms is very exclusive—entry by invitation only! Could you get me an invitation, Hal?”
“We will not be discussing this at breakfast with two ladies,” Hal growled. His brow furrowed. “Or at all,” he added.
Lily was apparently right, at least about the young bucks.
So re-educating Ned was going to be Hal’s first task of the day, after breakfast. Margaret’s was ensuring that the remaining six guest chambers had been made ready for visitors while she was away yesterday.
After that, Margaret visited the kitchens, to be assured by Cook that everything was under control. Cook had eyed Poppy with suspicion and thinly veiled contempt at first, but, as the two of them had worked out the lunch menu, trailing and sampling each dish, they had formed a firm friendship and were now attempting to outdo one another in professional courtesies.
“Mrs. Poppy’s dishes have already started to arrive, my lady, and they look wonderful. Relax and enjoy yourself,” Cook said. “We will do you proud.”
Relaxing was easier said than done. Margaret had met three of Hal’s foster mothers. What of the three from the farm? What would they think of her? She would not have believed three months ago that she would crave approval from six retired prostitutes.
Then she had met Lily, Jasmine, and Poppy, and found them to be women of courage and strength. Women she respected. Women who were responsible for raising the man she loved. They were important to him, and so they mattered to her.
Holly, Lotus, and Petunia were expected at any time, coming straight from the country. They would be meeting Margaret for the first time. She hoped she would make a good impression! Meanwhile, she had nothing to do to keep herself occupied, so she worried.
She was grateful for the knock on the door. If they were here at last, she could get the initial introduction over and stop fretting. Her butler did not open the door to the group from the farm, however, but to Mrs. Wakefield, Mr. Wakefield’s wife and business partner.
“I have news, my lady,” she said. “Would you summon Lord Snowden so I might tell you both together?”
“I’ll take you to him,” Margaret decided. Hal and Ned were in the study, keeping out of the way of the bustle.
Mrs. Wakefield got straight to the point after Margaret closed the door. “Two things happened yesterday while you were out of town. My husband and I thought you ought to know. You still have the Moriarty guards?”
“We do,” Hal replied. “What do I need to tell them?”
“My first piece of news is that Lord Hungerford-Fox was knifed in the street yesterday. The assailant got away. Lord Hungerford-Fox is not expected to live.”
Margaret had been about to sit down. Her knees failed and she dropped into the chair.
Concern showed in Mrs. Wakefield’s eyes. “I beg your pardon, Lady Charmain. I did not intend to upset you.”
“No, not at all,” Margaret protested. “I was just surprised.” She took a deep breath. “Lord Snowden warned him of the danger,” she remembered. “He refused to believe it.” Hal came to stand behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with her own.
“A waste,” he said. “If he had stayed in protective custody for a few more days, he would have been safe. With the work your agency has done, and particularly with what we found out at the asylum, we have enough to put Snowden away for his crimes.”
Mrs. Wakefield gave a sharp nod. “Which brings me to the more important matter. Richard Snowden has disappeared. He has not been home for two nights. He has slipped the attention of those set to watch him and has gone to ground somewhere.”
