Page 71 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
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Mrs. Wakefield left,after advising them to increase the guard when they went to the church tomorrow, and otherwise, to stay at home until Snowden was apprehended.
Snowy forced down his jealousy over Margaret’s reaction to Hungerford-Fox’s death and took her aside to comfort her. “How are you, Margaret?” he said. “What do you need?”
Her smile seemed cheerful enough. “I am not such a frail creature as to be frightened just because Snowden has run away, Hal. With the provisions you have made for my protection, I could not be safer.”
“Not that,” he said. “You seemed upset about Hungerford-Fox.”
Her reply was tart. “One does not expect to hear that a person one knows has been knifed in the street.”
That was all very well, but he had not imagined the tremor in her muscles as she sucked in a couple of deep breaths, as if suppressing tears.
She grimaced. “If you must know, I was ashamed of my first reaction. Not the involuntary one. The thought that came after. What sort of person am I, if I can hear of a person’s untimely death and think,at least he will not spread stories about me anymore!”
Snowy kissed her forehead, cheered by the confession. “A human one, my love.”
Their private conversation was interrupted when the butler came to announce the ladies from the farm, and the other three arrived shortly after.
After that, Snowy had his work cut out to keep an eye on everyone to make sure that his foster mothers were respected. Ned had clearly taken the lecture he had received to heart. He was being his usual charming self, flirting madly, but with all the over-the-top sincerity of a nephew with a maiden aunt. Not by a word or an expression did he treat them any differently than he would a mature lady of the ton.
Pauline was a known quantity. She behaved as she did with everyone, polite and self-effacing.
Snowy had had no doubts about his beloved, and he’d been right. She was everywhere at once, talking herbs and vegetables with Holly, recipes with Poppy, the management of staff with Jasmine, crop rotation with Lotus, kittens with Petunia, investment with Lily, and—to his embarrassment—Snowy. with them all.
The servants and guards, too, behaved impeccably, as if the six visitors had come from a fine country estate, and not from one of the most exclusive brothels in London.
Then the food started to arrive. Poppy and Margaret’s Cook had outdone themselves. Dish after dish was set out on the sideboard for them to help themselves. Snowy loaded Margaret’s plate and went back to fill his own. They must have cooked all of Snowy’s favorites and all of Margaret’s. He noticed only one lack. No apple pie, sadly. He remembered Poppy saying she had used all of the stored apples from the last harvest.
When he’d eaten his plate empty, he would come back for a slice of raspberry pie, instead.
Maids and footmen trotted in and out of the room, removing empty dishes and bringing full ones. The drink was as plentiful as the food: punch, light on the alcohol given the time of day, lemonade, tea for those who preferred it.
Conversation flowed as freely as the food. Of course, pleasing conversation was part of his foster mothers’ stock in trade, and it was taught to Society ladies, too, from the cradle. Everyone seemed to be truly enjoying themselves, however.
Maids brought around coupe glasses, followed by footmen with bottles of champagne. Lily stood up. “As stand-in for the mother of the groom, Lady Charmain, my sisters and I would like to thank you. Nineteen years ago, we took on the job of raising Henry Snowden, and we have done our best to make a man of him. It has had its moments.” She shared several stories from his youth, setting off Snowy’s other foster mothers, until he wanted to crawl from the room in mortification.
“We think he has turned out rather well,” Lily concluded, embarrassing Snowy still further. “Apparently you do, too, or you would not be taking him on. It is, I am told, traditional to congratulate the groom and wish the bride every blessing. We do, Lady Charmain. May the pair of you enjoy the best of life and avoid the worst. Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses in a toast to the bride and groom.”
Snowy took his turn, thanking each of his foster-mothers for their part in his life, and for embarrassing him in front of his betrothed and his brother. He made it short, and finished with a toast to families, especially those present.
The flow of dishes from the kitchen had paused for the speeches, but after Snowy had finished, it began again, with sweet cakes, cut fruit, cheese, nuts and the like. A maid brought Snowy a large slice of pie. “Apple, sir,” she said. “I am told it is your favorite.”
Snowy smiled at Poppy. She must have saved just enough to make him the treat. A pity he was so full, but he could surely eat some of it to show his appreciation. He took a large spoon full. It smelt a bit odd. Musty. Old apples, clearly.
In the mouth, it tasted bitter. He washed it down with a gulp of his wine. Would Poppy notice if he put it to one side? She wasn’t watching. He put the plate behind him on a handy side table, and turned to Ned, who had just come to sit beside him.
“They are formidable women,” Ned said, quietly. “I can see why Margaret doesn’t frighten you.”
Margaret frightened Ned? “They are,” Snowy agreed. “And so is Margaret.”
“My father despises women,” Ned admitted. “He says they are weak, driven by their emotions, in need of direction.”
“Our mother survived him,” Snowy pointed out. “I’d say that makes her strong. My foster mothers and Margaret? They are capable, intelligent, and willing to work hard. If they had been men, that would have been enough for them to succeed. But they are women, so they meet with obstacles, barriers, and abuses that a man cannot comprehend. And they succeed anyway, on their own terms. Formidable? Yes. They had to be.”
“Is it true that Mistress Lily was left an inheritance by her protector, and used it to start the House of Blossoms? Why wouldn’t she find another protector? She is lovely enough, even now.”
An inheritance of a sort, but not from her protector. Now was not the time, but perhaps he would ask Lily for permission to tell Ned the story. How their mother had given Lily all of her jewelry, and Lily had used it to have paste copies made to return to their mother and sold the originals to fund a life that would allow Lily to keep Snowy with her, as well as to protect her sisters and friends.
