Page 142 of A Gentleman's Wager
“I’m sure that Louisa Wakefield will suit you equally well. We ought to go now, Joshua’s looking impatient.”
“It is December, in case the pair of you haven’t noticed. There’s no telling when the weather will turn. So yes, let us be off.”
They made it to the little Norman church in no time at all. The congregation was small, close friends of the bride and groom only. Neither was attended by any relatives. It was much too arduous a journey for Louisa’s aunt to make even in the height of summer, besides there was the cost to consider. Wakefield’s sisters had stayed home for the same reason, though the couple planned to head to Bluebell Lane ahead of joining Wakefield’s regiment.
Reverend Hindes heard their vows and lisped his way through the rest of the ceremony in the same monotone he used for all occasions. The congregation thence emerged stiffly an hour later to find a white blanket of snow on the ground and snowflakes still swirling in the air. “I said it could turn, did I not,” Joshua smugly remarked.
Bella humoured him by agreeing.
The breakfast took place at Wyndfell. Bella hid in the corners of her childhood home while various guests milled around her exchanging pleasantries and small talk. Thus, she managed to avoid anyone who might wish to exchange more than a polite nod. Louisa found her in one such haven a little after eleven.
“You’ll never guess what I’ve received, Bella. It’s a letter from Mr Pryce. The poor man has been locked in the bell tower of St Mary’s and was only rescued two days ago when the vicar went to investigate the strange noises some children heard. He’s abed, quite, quite shaken.”
“Does this mean—”
“It was all a hoax.” Louisa clapped her hands. “I don’t know what the intent was, it all seems nonsensical.” She looked about to ensure her animation hadn’t drawn attention, before leaning closer to Bella. “Anyway, it means I’m not destitute. I’ve not told Frederick yet. I thought I might save it for after we depart.”
“It’s a little late for him to change his mind. The register is signed. There were a host of witnesses.”
“Thank the Almighty.” Louisa made a deep sigh, grin still stretching wide her petite features. “I am desperately glad though. I didn’t know at all how we should manage on his Captain’s pay alone. Oh, I’ve a letter from Charles Aubury too. He wishes us well and encloses a book of verses he soon hopes to publish. He’s in negotiations, which is why he could not come.”
“Nothing to do with sixty guineas he still owes Pennerley?”
Louisa considered. “I suppose that might be a factor too.” She stayed a while longer with Bella but moved on when Virginia Castleton came over and latched herself onto Bella’s other arm. “I was half expecting we might hear an announcement today about you and a certain Lord of our acquaintance,” she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
Bella responded with a look of astonishment. “I’m sure I can’t think what you mean, unless it is that Lords Marlinscar and Pennerley are to leave our society as soon as the newlyweds depart.”
“Leave.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Oh, but that is not at all good news.” The lady tutted. She hurried off to spread the gossip not a minute later.
Finally, at midday, Wakefield found her to say goodbye. They ambled out into the crowd of guests assembled around the carriage Lucerne had loaned to take them off. “You had best take damned good care of her,” Bella said.
“That is certainly my intention.”
Louisa pushed her husband out of the way to embrace Bella. “Will you—”
“Can you—”
They stopped. Louisa’s wide blue eyes briefly clouded.
“I’ll be fine,” Bella insisted. “If you’ll be happy.”
“You’ll write, won’t you Bella? We’re to join his regiment in India. It might be years before—”
“I’ll write at least every week, more often if there’s something to say.”
“And I will write even when there is nothing to say at all.”
“Mrs Wakefield,” Wakefield called from the carriage steps.
Bella hugged her tight, then delivered her friend to her new husband. Vaughan stood waiting for her after the carriage pulled away. Sensing he had something to say and that it was almost certainly goodbye, Bella stared stubbornly at her feet. The snow had melted around her shoes, staining the green satin with watermarks. His solid leather boots were far more suitable to the season.
Helplessly, she let her gaze drift upwards, over the skirt of his great coat, to the charcoal-grey of his frockcoat. He looked like a priceless treasure, and she realised just how desperately she wanted to keep him.
Her vision swam as her gaze reached the ends of his black ringlets. From there, she only had to tilt her head a little to meet his glittering gaze.
