Page 35 of The Captain of Betrayal
"Heavens," he said cheerfully, "I nearly forgot what we were in the middle of! Come, you two, names on the register, then we can all go and have some tea."
Polly and James dutifully signed their names into the book; though Polly noted that James' hand shook slightly as he wrote. It was all so strange and dramatic, but also a little relieving to have something to distract her from her previous fears.
They exited the church to the sound of clapping, cheering, and Mr Lawless blowing his nose loudly. The villagers then streamed through the doors and out into the small courtyard, where every one of them came to shake the newlyweds' hands and whisper blessings or well wishes.
"Stay sharp, lass" Mrs Tarpy whispered into Polly's ear before passing by James with a stern glare.
"Have I done something to offend her?" James whispered in bemusement, as he watched the stocky, Scottish woman bustle across the green.
"Not yet," Polly replied faintly, but was spared having to explain herself as the Duke and Duchess of Everleigh approached them.
"My congratulations to you both," Everleigh said solemnly.
"Oh pish, Ruan, you sound as though you're at a funeral and not a wedding," Olive interjected, a wide smile on her beautiful face. The Duchess embraced both Polly and James, cheerfully chattering about the sermon and the forthcoming breakfast.
"We brought a few bottles from Pemberton Hall," Olive said, her eyebrows waggling with mischief. "I rather think it's not a proper toast, unless there's champagne in the glass."
A few bottles was an understatement, for when they arrived to the garden of the boarding house, where a dozen wooden tables had been set up for their guests, Polly saw that the Duke and Duchess had brought nearly a hundred bottles of French champagne. When she protested that it was too much, the Duchess had waved away her concerns with a lazy hand.
"Call it reparation for having endured employment with my husband for so long," Olive laughed, casting an affectionate look at the Duke, who stood somewhat apart from the crowd, a stern look upon his face. Poor Everleigh, Polly thought; he presented such a cold exterior to the world, hiding the fact that he was one of the most gentle, honest people Polly knew. He had plucked her from employment in a tavern in Bristol, sensing a brightness that no one else had ever noticed, and had changed her life completely. She held nothing but love and admiration for the man--even if he did have a tendency for highhanded outbursts.
It was rather fun to have the guests of the boarding house serving, for a change. The ladies had insisted that Polly would not lift a finger on the day and they rallied together, weaving through the tables with plates stacked high with salmon, salad and strawberries for the guests. Polly and James sat side by side at the top table, the Duke and Duchess of Everleigh to their left and Emily, Mrs Actrol and Mr Wilpole to their right. Her new husband had worn a smile for the entirety of the meal, but Polly knew that beneath his cheerful facade, he was filled with trouble. And while she enjoyed the celebration, she longed for it to be over, so that she could discuss with James the revelation of his parent's marriage.
The breakfast stretched into the late afternoon, only finishing when the champagne bottles were empty and the children had become tired and cross. As the last of the villagers left, and the ladies of the boarding house began to clear away the tables, James suggested that the group retire into the drawing room.
Once they were settled, James asked Mr Wilpole to repeat the story of Flora Black and Horace Ludlow, for those who had not heard it.
"Goodness," Mrs Actrol exclaimed, fanning herself with her hand. "To think that she left that morning to marry Ludlow and she didn't breathe a word to anyone."
"I don't understand," Everleigh said slowly, his dark eyebrows knitted together in thought. "How did Ludlow marry again, if he was already married to Flora?"
"I have my suspicions," Polly glanced at James in surprise; how could he already have suspicions, when they had only learned of the marriage that very morning? She listened, enthralled, as James retold the tale of how the vestry where the parish records were kept had been burned to the ground a short time after his parent's marriage.
"So, you think Ludlow returned to destroy any evidence that he had wed Flora?" Olive said, her eyes alight with interest at the intrigue.
"I knew I hadn't left a candle burning," Mr Wilpole interrupted, looking rather pleased with himself, then flushed as the collected group sent incredulous looks his way. "Though of course, that is not important in the grand scheme of things..."
"I do not think it was Ludlow who started the fire," James continued, as he gave Everleigh a meaningful look that Polly could not interpret. "I rather think it was someone else..."
He paused, to let this sink in, though the Duchess cut across James, before he could elaborate.
"Why," Olive clapped her hands together restlessly, "You must go to London at once and fix this mess. Ruan, call for a carriage, we could be in town by daylight."
The prospect of spending her wedding night in a carriage with the Duke and Duchess of Everleigh was far preferable to Polly than being alone in a bedroom with her new husband. As the daylight had started to fade outside the window of the drawing room, her fears had returned. Even the drama of the strange, secret marriage of Flora Black to the Earl of Ludlow, was not enough to keep her nerves at bay.
"I rather think, my dear," the Duke said gently, dashing Polly's hopes. "That we should leave James and Polly retire for the night, before we go capering off to London."
The Duke and Duchess exchanged a secret smile that left Polly blushing. Even Mrs Actrol gave an amused laugh as she gave James a ribald glance.
"I suppose you've been waiting for this night for more than a decade," the authoress said, as she stood and smoothed her skirt. "To make you wait one night more would be cruel."
On this note, the group stood to leave, offering goodbyes and promising to reconvene again in the morning.
"Are you certain that you wouldn't like to stay for one more cup of tea?" Polly asked desperately of Mr Wilpole, who shook his head cheerfully.
"I'm afraid Mrs Wilpole will be wondering what has become of me," he replied, "And I am simply dying to tell her about the fire; I've spent thirty odd years, listening to what a feather brain I am. You couldn't understand how excited I am to inform her that she has been mistaken all this time."
The vicar left with a wave, leaving Polly and James alone in the drawing room, as Emily had already left with the Duke and Duchess, with whom she was staying for a few days whilst James and Polly settled into married life.
