Future visits. Of course there would be future visits. They were all settled, now, in their own little lives. And Grace—Grace would need the company of allher sisters from time to time, the security she had missed these long years that could only be provided by a loving family of her own. The one she ought always to have had. The one they all ought always to have had; the one they had fought to make for themselves, clinging to one another across the miles and circumstances that had separated them.
She found her place there amongst them, all wedged together on a couch too small to comfortably accommodate them and no less happy for it. “You’ll have to come again in the spring,” she said, and passed the plate of tea cakes down their merry row. “The garden is going to be lovely.”
∞∞∞
“Stop fussing with your cravat, man,” Anthony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.
Ian fluffed the fall of white linen once more, utterly unconcerned with Anthony’s annoyance. “It needs to look perfect.”
“It looked perfect about ten minutes ago,” Thomas said. “Now it looks a mess.”
It didn’t—did it? Ah, hell. It did. Ian forced his fingers to release the fabric and shoved his hand instead into his pocket, searching for his watch. Came up empty. “She must be dreadfully late by now,” he said, patting at his pockets.
“She’s not late. You were terrifyingly early.” Anthony cast himself down in the pew at the front of the church, rubbing at his temples.
“I’m certain she’s late,” Ian said. “Where the hell is my damned watch?”
The reverend, waiting in the wings for Felicity to arrive, narrowed his eyes and glowered. Ian made a mental note to send on a generous donation to the church to account for his language.
“I had Grace nick it off you ten minutes ago,” Thomas said, his tone exasperated. “Couldn’t stand watching you glance at it every few minutes. Damned embarrassing.” And as he, too, caught the sharp end of the reverend’s glare, he mumbled a contrite, “I beg your pardon, Father.”
“Grace?” Ian turned. “Grace is here? Then Felicity—”
“Will arrive shortly. Grace was sent on ahead to bring this.” Thomas opened his hand, revealing Felicity’s ring cradled in his palm. “Apparently, you forgot to retrieve it this morning. When you decided to arrive at an utterlyinsanehour.”
Ian cleared his throat. “I wanted to be certain to arrive on time,” he said. “And women have got so much more to do to prepare. I thought it would be best to give Felicity the run of our bed chamber in privacy.”
“You arrived before the reverend,” Anthony cast out. “And nobody knew you’d gone. Set the whole of the household staff looking for you until I thought to track down the coachman and ask if you’d gone out.”
So he’d been a bit too anxious to simply bide his time within the house, counting down the minutes until the appointed hour had at last arrived. Sohe’d waited on the steps of the church until the reverend had himself arrived. It was his damned weddingday. A man was entitled to certain feelings about it. And…he’d wanted Felicity to come herself. Not escorted to her wedding like the reluctant bride she’d once been, but to come to it of her own free will, under her own power.
“Don’t,” Thomas commanded, and Ian realized he was once again fussing with his cravat, which now hung rather limply.
“Good God,” Anthony said. “You’d think you were a nervous bride. I promise you, she’s coming. There was quite a lot of giggling and shrieking going on when Thomas and I left.”
Ian’s brow pleated in concern. “Shrieking?” That hardly boded well.
“Women shriek, from time to time, when they are in particularly pleasant moods. One does grow accustomed to it.” At Ian’s befuddled gaze, Thomas added, “I have got two sisters. Between them and Mercy, there is alwayssomeoneshrieking.”
“Don’t forget Flora,” Anthony said.
“She shrieks because she’s a baby,” Thomas said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Bit of a difference, there.”
“Not to my ears.”
Grace arrived at Ian’s side as if by magic, appearing, it seemed, out of nowhere. “Father,” she said sweetly to the reverend, with a widening of her eyes that was altogether too innocent for a girl who had recently stolen Ian’s pocket watch. “Your collar is a bit askew. Perhaps you’d like to repair it in the vestry?”
Itwasaskew. But Ian would have sworn it wasn’t only moments ago. “Oh, dear,” the man said, touching his collar. “Yes, quite. Thank you, my dear.” The smile he bestowed upon her was doting, as if she were the only person present to have met with his approval this morning.
As the reverend turned to go, Grace shoved her hand into the pocket of the new gown which had been made for her for the occasion and withdrew a silver flask, which she shoved into Ian’s hand. “Go on, then,” she said. “You look like you need it.”
Ian removed the cap and took a deep drink of the brandy contained therein. It wasn’t until he’d replaced the cap that a thought occurred. “Where the devil did you get this?” he asked, staring down at the flask in his hand.
“From the vestry,” Grace said lightly. “It was amongst the reverend’s things. I’ll have it back, now. Got to put it back in its place before he notices it’s gone.”
Ian choked on a startled laugh. “You can’t go around stealing from clergymen,” he said as he placed the flask back in her hand. But it was hardly the time or place for a lecture. “Please, for the love of God—don’t get caught.”
“I’ll be especially careful.” She gave an impish grin as she sauntered off, positioning herself carefully to nip back into the vestry once more when the reverend returned.
