Page 65 of Lady Willa's Divinely Wicked Vicar
Chapter 14
Friday, May 10, 1816
Wyndym Abbey
Dorset
Aglance in the long mirror in her dressing room assured Wills that today, of all days, she was radiant. And it was true, she was the happiest she’d ever been in her life. The rose silk day gown gave her skin a pink glow. It was one of her favorites, but she had left it at Courtland Manor hidden in the back dressing room when she ran away after the frolic. Two days ago before she and Charlie had come here, she’d reclaimed it along with her pride that she’d stood up for herself. Her reward for that was to be her wedding this morning to her charming Charlie. The pink of the gown matched the flush of her cheeks because she could not stop thinking about what awaited her within hours. To fly away from the Duke of Southbourne’s mansion and go off alone with her new husband to the family wedding cottage in the copse a mile away, was the only thing she wanted now.
“You look lovely, my lady.” The sweet young maid whom the duke had assigned her upon their arrival stood back. She was all of fourteen or fifteen and aflutter with delight to wait upon her.
“Thank you, Lizzie. You’ve a talent for taming wild hair.”
“Oh, milady.” She blushed. “You’ve silk. It’s a crown, it is.”
“I’ll commend you to your master, Lizzie. I hope you will attend the wedding.”
“Aye, ma’am. The duke has invited all of us.”
“That’s good of him.”
“Right smart, too. We know we’ve a fine master.” She bit her lip as if she’d meant to say more but decided against it.
If she had more to say, there was precious little to impart that was negative. Wills had learned two nights ago at dinner the most likely bit of derision was the topic of the oldest son of the duke.
During their trip to Southbourne, Charlie had shared much about the problems his father and he had with Charlie’s older brother Oliver. Among them was the fact that Oliver treated servants poorly. After she and Charlie had arrived, the duke declared he was happy Oliver was not here. Yet, he warned, he might still appear. The duke had sent word that afternoon to his oldest child in London of Charlie’s marriage today, so he expected him to come quickly. The fact that the bishop could not arrive to perform the ceremony until today added to the tension that Oliver might arrive and make a scene.
“Here or not for the occasion,” the duke added during dinner, “Oliver will take the hint and wed with haste now. He guards zealously that which is his. Would that he could take care of it with the same dedication. But that is not to be. I hope you do not take it amiss that I am so frank with you, Willa. But you join the family and are to learn all this sooner or later.”
“My own family has aspects which are not perfect, Your Grace.” She knew not how well the duke was personally acquainted with her father, but she did not hide the fact of her estrangement from him.
“We have our foibles,” he said as he took a sip of his wine. “To keep the estates and the wealth of our lands can make us unseemly in our efforts. This is most often a problem when we look for spouses.”
“That I do know, sir.”
The duke and she had engaged in a spirited discussion of women’s rights. He had quickly assured her she would be her own person in the Compton family with command over her own property and her dowry. “And if your father does not approve of this marriage and refuses you your due, you will never be without your own money and rights, my dear.”
Assured of her welcome and secure in her own integrity, she smiled again at herself on her wedding day. Ready to begin a new chapter of her life, she swept her train aside. “I’m ready, Lizzie. Let’s go down.”
* * *
His father crooked a finger at him. “Come here, my son. You do look splendid.”
Charlie tugged at the points of his dark blue and emerald brocade waistcoat. Not quite the fashion any longer, the six-year-old garment had hung in his dressing room here untouched for many years. “A bit tight.”
“Broader of shoulder, stouter of heart and, if it is possible, more humble of mind, you’ve grown in all ways. But you were always noble of character.” His father, in his wheeled chair, took from his pocket a small hammered silver box. “Here. My wedding gift to you. Bend down.”
Charlie leaned over, watching as his father flipped open the silver case. A bejeweled stick pin sat in white satin. The long gold pin held the small diamonds and two large sapphires in an abbreviated circle that resembled the family crest. “Sir! That is—”
“Yours, my dear boy. Come, come. Allow me to fix your cravat. Mathews is skilled with the folds but I reserve the honor to place this in the silk. This was my father’s. His father’s before him. Beyond that, who knows how old it is. But it is yours, by right of honor.”
He spoke around the lump in his throat. “This should belong to Oliver.”
“No. It should not.” He patted Charlie’s shoulder and waggled his fingers for him to stand and let him inspect him. “Your frockcoat now. Ahh. Yes, there you are. The groom! So now for your excellent choice of this lovely young woman to join us, I also present you with this.”
From his inside pocket, the duke took a long parchment, folded in two. “Always have you made me proud, Charles. Always may you have pleasure in your life. God knows, you have given it to your mother and to me. Enjoy this.”
Charlie knew a hand-written deed when he saw one. He unfolded it and read the words that he would add this possession to his list of morning blessings. This was an assignment of the house in Hanover Square to him. Tears stung his eyelids. The property, long a free-hold by the Comptons, could be sold or given away. Charlie loved the old place with its massive rooms, high ceilings, enormous old kitchen and fond memories of his childhood. His father had afforded him use of the house this past year for his times in London on family estate business. This was a formal transfer of the title.
