“And the wedding will be held where?” she asked. “Certainly not here or in the local church.”
“We were thinking of Wells Cathedral. There is bound to be a substantial guest list with many of the peerage attending.”
“That sounds proper,” Her Grace said. “Oh, my, what a lot to plan for. And with Charlotte’s wedding at the end of May, it is going to be a breathless time at Grayson Manor.”
“You should also know I have spoken to Harold and Betsy and they have decided to postpone their wedding until Harold has worked off his encumbrance. They both feel it is the right thing. They want to make a clean and fresh start together.”
“Well, that is one less worry.” But she seemed troubled and added, “Do you really think this is going to work between them. I was so shocked when you told me about Harold’s troubles. I fear Betsy may be making a horrible mistake.”
Lucy spoke up, “Your Grace, I have great faith in my brother. I believe he is a good man and will live up to his responsibilities.” She turned to George and said, “And he has done wonderful work for you so far, has he not?”
“I believe they made a wise and sober decision and I stand by him and their marriage,” he answered.
Mother stood staring at her son and Lucy for a moment, and then she held out her hand and said, “Lucy, since you have no mother, you and I must discuss your wedding gown. You know, as the future Duchess of Sutherland, there are certain standards that must be considered. Madame Hortense is perfectlyau courantand knowledgeable about what will be required. Would you be willing to put yourself in my hands so that your wedding will be the most splendid event possible?”
Lucy turned to George and looked at him. He nodded.
“I should be delighted to have you assist me. And you can start by fetching me my slippers.”
That set all of them laughing.
Epilogue
The wedding of the Duke of Sutherland was to be a major event. All the inns, hotels, and rooms within a ten-mile radius of Wells were booked for the event. The wedding would take place in the cathedral on the first day, and the next day the guests would travel the two-and-thirty miles to Grayson Manor where the reception was to be held over a long weekend of celebration.
Preparation at the Manor would begin up to a month in advance and, additional staff would be hired to accommodate the noble guests and their entourage. No money was to be spared. No delicacy was to be overlooked for the guest’s delight. A beautifully landscaped pond and fountain were created in front of the Manor, with gracefully swimming swans and benches for sitting to contemplate the vistas.
Three orchestras were engaged to provide various kinds of music in several of the great rooms to keep everyone entertained. Lavish buffets were available from dawn until midnight for the guests to eat whenever they felt hungry. And one grand feast was planned in the large dining room for the last night of the celebration where more than a hundred were expected to attend.
And, within the whirlwind of activity leading up to the wedding, George was finishing off his last several paintings and shipping them in his own carriage to London for the show which would open in less than a week after the wedding.
Both George and Lucy were so busy; they rarely had a moment alone together. But one evening, a few days before they were to leave for Wells, they found themselves drawn to the studio at the same time.
George was just sitting in a chair at the large studio window, gazing at the stars and taking a moment to find some repose. Lucy was drawn by her desire to recapture that moment when George had proposed to her. Her little desk in the messy studio had become a sacred spot for her and often, after a particularly difficult fitting for the wedding gown, she gravitated to the studio to just sit and dream of her happily-ever-after moment.
“I was coming here to hide out for a bit, but I saw the light and expected to find you here,” Lucy said as she came inside.
George turned in his chair and smiled, extending his hand to her and beckoning her to come to him. She went over and sat on his lap, putting her arm around him and laying her head on his shoulder.
“This is all so wonderful, but I shall be grateful when it is finished, and we can begin to live our new life,” Lucy said.
“Yes, I have often thought we should just run away and hide out in some forest and become Robin Hood and Maid Marian, disregarding all convention and living our lives as brigands and roustabouts.”
“It sounds heavenly,” she said, giving George a kiss on his cheek, “But then you would not be able to paint, and I should need to scrub clothes and cook stews and never again set pen to paper.”
“Perhaps you are right. And do think of how lovely a month or two in Venice will be. I shall feed you chocolates and mussels and bathe you in a bathtub filled with rose petals.”
“Not all at the same time I hope,” she said with a giggle.
George was overcome with a welling up of affection for her and he grabbed her and swung her around on his lap, picking her up as he stood, and placing her on her feet to face him.
“My dearly beloved, Lucy, I shall cherish you always. Through the storms that life shall send our way, and the glorious joys that life shall bring us—always, always, always know that you are forever in my heart, my dearest, dearest Lucy.”
“I still cannot believe that I, the daughter of a tenant farmer, will soon become the Duchess of Sutherland and married to the most wonderful man I have ever known in my entire life.”
“And I can assure you—Mother will never let you forget that.”
* * *
