She was definitely looking forward to the night that would follow.
She, her parents, and the rest of the bridal party had arrived two days ago, just as the westering sun was painting the castle’s stone walls in warm tones of rose-tinged gold. The castle itself, with its gatehouse, battlements, and towers, had proved to be a far more romantic, fairy-tale setting than she’d imagined it would be; on being shown around the chapel and the other reception rooms, she’d realized that Helen Delamere’s excitement over witnessing a wedding there was entirely understandable.
Now, with the morning well advanced, in the large chamber allotted to her, she sat on the stool before the dressing table while her maid, Jolene, assisted by Lottie, put the finishing touches to her hair, and felt somewhat like the eye of a storm with winds of excitement and eager anticipation swirling all around her.
Eventually, with oohs and aahs and escalating anticipation in the air, Lottie and Jolene lifted the fine lace veil and draped it over the creation of curls and braids they’d confected from Melissa’s long dark hair, then carefully anchored the veil in place with the pearl-encrusted combs her grandmother had loaned her.
Mandy stood on Melissa’s right, critically surveying the outcome. Melissa glanced at her sister and smiled. Even faintly frowning, Mandy looked elegant in the turquoise-blue satin gown Madame Henriette had—to everyone’s relief—finally fitted to perfection. Currently, Mandy was shifting from foot to foot with ill-concealed excitement.
Jolene and Lottie were fussing with the veil, determined to get the fall of the delicate fabric just so. Melissa looked into the mirror to check their progress.
Lottie was also gowned in the turquoise satin and, with her blond curls twisted into a topknot, looked significantly older than her fifteen years. She’d been delegated to act as chief flower girl in charge of the two junior flower girls and pageboy, who were Melissa’s uncle Christopher’s three children, the youngest trio in the wider Osbaldestone family. Under the eyes of Lottie and Melissa’s brother, the trio were supposed to walk up the aisle ahead of the other bridesmaids, liberally distributing rose petals along the short nave of the chapel.
Melissa shifted her gaze and, in the mirror, studied her mother’s transparently delighted expression. Her mother stood farther back in the room, but was watching the activity about the dressing table keenly. For her, this moment presaged a singular achievement. By the end of the day, she would have successfully married off both her daughters to highly desirable partis, an accomplishment few of her peers could claim. One daughter, yes, but two settled so well was rare, and her mother was as eager and as impatient as Melissa to have the knot tied and the deed done.
Beside her mother, Melissa’s grandmother stood regally erect, her cane anchored upright before her. Melissa scanned her grandmother’s face and saw a softness in the haughty features that wasn’t often there. Even more than Lottie, her grandmother had believed this marriage was one of those that “should be” and was commensurately pleased and, it seemed to Melissa, a touch triumphant, given she and Julian had first met under her grandmother’s aegis.
Melissa’s second bridesmaid, her cousin Genevieve North, also clad in a turquoise satin gown, was presently straightening the neckcloth of Melissa’s brother, Christopher. At twenty-two, Christopher had been assigned to accompany Lottie down the aisle and assist in keeping the younger trio in line. Given the children’s natural exuberance, that would be no idle task.
In the mirror, Melissa could just see the trio in question as they lurked in one corner of the room. Someone had wisely set the three baskets filled with fresh rose petals, harvested that morning by the castle gardeners from the extensive rose garden, on top of a tall chest of drawers, out of reach of the children. Even from the other side of the room, Melissa could smell the luscious scent rising from the petals.
But the three children were standing, silent and still, staring down at the floor in the far corner of the room, and Melissa found herself blessing the farsightedness of one of her grandmother’s oldest and closest friends, Helena, Dowager Duchess of St. Ives. Helena was another of the ton’s grandes dames, and Melissa had known her socially for all her adult life. Consequently, she hadn’t been surprised when, on arriving at the castle, her grandmother had informed her that Helena, unable to attend due to a previous family engagement, had sent a bridal gift and delivered a large box into Melissa’s hands.
She and Julian had been stunned to discover the box contained a squirming bundle of golden fur, a puppy who had promptly attached himself to her.
When she’d appealed to her grandmother for an explanation of the unusual gift, her grandmother had met her gaze and informed her that Helena believed Melissa and Julian would have need of the puppy, and in matters of perspicaciousness, her grandmother had learned long ago that it never paid to argue with Helena.
Although Helena was nearly as old as Melissa’s grandmother, no more than that august dame was Helena mentally failing. Melissa and Julian had accepted the gift with suitable if wary grace.
Subsequently, being of a decidedly adventuresome bent, the puppy had been dubbed Ulysses and allowed to spend time in Melissa’s room; if they tried to shut him out, he would sit in the corridor outside the door and howl until admitted. Thus far, he’d behaved himself and hadn’t chewed anything vital, although on more than one occasion, Jolene had had to rescue the ballroom slippers Melissa was wearing, the ones that matched her wedding gown, from the playful pup.
At that moment, Ulysses was asleep on a folded blanket in the corner of the room, actively contributing to the general peace by keeping the youngsters mesmerized. Melissa sent a mental thank-you winging Helena’s way.
“There!” Lottie raised her hands and stepped back to view the results of her and Jolene’s efforts. She caught Melissa’s eye in the mirror and beamed. “You’re simply perfect!”
There was that word again; if she’d been at all superstitious, Melissa might have been concerned.
Instead, as she slowly rose and felt the ivory silk of her gown, with its fitted bodice and draped skirt overlaid with gauzy lace studded with tiny pearls, its high waist marked by a twisted rope of larger pearls, settle around her, a sense of serene calmness descended and embraced her.
Just as well, given the flurry of excitement that gripped everyone else in the room—all except her father, who, throughout, had stood stoically watching from beside the door.
Mandy’s eyes were shining. She reached out and squeezed Melissa’s hand. “You lookravishing. Carsely is going to swallow his tongue.”
Melissa laughed and turned to see her mother raise a lace-edged handkerchief to her eye. “You do look superb, my dear,” she managed with a trembling smile. She waved aside her happy tears. “Don’t mind me.”
“Really, Henrietta.” Melissa’s grandmother shook her head at her eldest daughter. “Now is not the time for tears.”
Yet as her redoubtable grandmother turned her way, Melissa noticed her black eyes were suspiciously shiny as well. Her grandmother looked her up and down, then nodded. “You look lovely, my dear. I believe Mandy has it right.”
As Melissa stepped forward, twitching the trains of gown and veil to trail behind her, her grandmother stepped nearer, leaned close, and brushed her cheek to Melissa’s. “Just remember, my dear,” her grandmother murmured, “to keep that handsome husband of yours in line—at least, for the rest of theday.”
The emphasis her grandmother placed on that last word and the knowing look in her black eyes nearly made Melissa blush.
Her grandmother stepped back and rapped her cane on the floor. “Come along now—it’s time for our toast.”
Melissa’s father had already opened the bottle of champagne, and he poured small amounts into the crystal flutes waiting on the dresser. He handed around the glasses, then held his up and proposed, “To my darling Melissa—a happy marriage to you, my dear, and a happy life.”
“Hear, hear!” came from many throats as the other adults raised their glasses.
