Magical Weddings by Leigh Michaels, Aileen Harkwood, Eve Devon, Raine English, Tamara Ferguson, Lynda Haviland, Jody A. Kessler, Jane Lark, Bess McBride, L. L. Muir, Jennifer Gilby Roberts, Jan Romes, Heather Thurmeier, Elsa Winckler, Sarah Wynde
Authors: Leigh Michaels, Aileen Harkwood, Eve Devon, Raine English, Tamara Ferguson, Lynda Haviland, Jody A. Kessler, Jane Lark, Bess McBride, L. L. Muir, Jennifer Gilby Roberts, Jan Romes, Heather Thurmeier, Elsa Winckler, Sarah Wynde
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and that sort of thing.”
Celia’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth.
Does she think I run a loom for my uncle?
“I have the greatest difficulty, myself, in telling one fabric from another,” Prudence went on, “so I generally end up buying the most expensive.”
From the foot of the stairs, Jane said mildly, “I hardly think Miss Overton is personally acquainted with a cloth factory.”
She had descended so quietly Celia hadn’t realized she was there. Apparently the Carew sisters hadn’t either, for Dimity snapped, “I do wish you’d stop sneaking around, Jane!”
“Your pardon. Lady Hester prefers to remain abed this morning, and Lady Imogene has the final fitting for her wedding garb. But if everyone else is ready for our walk…”
Eventually they were, though Celia wondered if the sisters were dawdling in the hope the hunting party might give up their day out and return to the house. When they finally set out across Rockhill’s wide lawns, Celia fell into step with Jane, while the Carew sisters walked a few yards behind, once more discussing the gentlemen of the party.
“I do hope it’s not Lord Lockwood who offers for me,” Dimity said as they turned onto a well-worn footpath. “Just imagine sharing the marriage bed with someone who is so very old.”
“What about Lord Billings?” Celia asked. “He’s quite young.”
Prudence cast a pitying look in her direction. “They call him Lord Bilious, you know.”
Jane nodded. “It’s true he has a very delicate stomach. The cook has been distraught over his requirements for special foods.”
“According to the
ton
,” Prudence said, “he may not live long enough to survive his father. His wife would be left with nothing. No real title, for it would go to the next heir, and no money either.”
“Such a shame that Lord Billings is unwell,” Jane murmured. “Of course, Mr. Montrose is quite good-looking.”
Dimity sighed. “Such a pity he isn’t eligible. But no matter how large the weaver’s fortune, it just won’t do.”
“You astound me,” Celia said.
“Oh, it’s different for you, of course, Miss Overton, because the fact that your money comes from trade can be disguised somewhat by your husband’s standing–assuming of course that some gentleman should offer for you. But for a man to bring the whiff of trade into a marriage…” Dimity shook her head sadly.
So much for Celia’s half-formed plan to keep Simon too busy with his own flirtations to interfere with her efforts. It had seemed such a good idea at breakfast. But if the Carew sisters weren’t likely to take him seriously…
Then perhaps you should give them a reason.
Celia spoke before she could talk herself out of the notion. “It seems foolish to assess a gentleman based only on his current standing, not taking into account his potential as you did with Lord Billings.”
Prudence looked offended. “Of course it would be short-sighted.”
Dimity frowned. “Are you suggesting someone here is in line for a grand inheritance?” Celia could almost see her ticking names off a list. “But all the gentlemen are in full possession of their estates except for Lord Bilious… I mean, Lord Billings.”
An imp seemed to take hold of Celia’s brain. “Perhaps you didn’t realize Mr. Montrose is in line for a title.” Her conscience pinged, but she silenced it. She hadn’t told an untruth… not exactly. As the great-grandson of a viscount, Simon must be in some line of succession. The fact there were probably twenty male uncles and cousins ahead of him in that line by now was immaterial, really.
Prudence sniffed. “If that were the case, Hester wouldn’t be so uninterested.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t know it,” Celia murmured. “It’s something he prefers not to speak of. Oh, here’s the village. Which shop should we visit first, do you think?”
****
When Simon reached the drawing room that evening, he was relieved to find
Celia’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth.
Does she think I run a loom for my uncle?
“I have the greatest difficulty, myself, in telling one fabric from another,” Prudence went on, “so I generally end up buying the most expensive.”
From the foot of the stairs, Jane said mildly, “I hardly think Miss Overton is personally acquainted with a cloth factory.”
She had descended so quietly Celia hadn’t realized she was there. Apparently the Carew sisters hadn’t either, for Dimity snapped, “I do wish you’d stop sneaking around, Jane!”
“Your pardon. Lady Hester prefers to remain abed this morning, and Lady Imogene has the final fitting for her wedding garb. But if everyone else is ready for our walk…”
Eventually they were, though Celia wondered if the sisters were dawdling in the hope the hunting party might give up their day out and return to the house. When they finally set out across Rockhill’s wide lawns, Celia fell into step with Jane, while the Carew sisters walked a few yards behind, once more discussing the gentlemen of the party.
“I do hope it’s not Lord Lockwood who offers for me,” Dimity said as they turned onto a well-worn footpath. “Just imagine sharing the marriage bed with someone who is so very old.”
“What about Lord Billings?” Celia asked. “He’s quite young.”
Prudence cast a pitying look in her direction. “They call him Lord Bilious, you know.”
Jane nodded. “It’s true he has a very delicate stomach. The cook has been distraught over his requirements for special foods.”
“According to the
ton
,” Prudence said, “he may not live long enough to survive his father. His wife would be left with nothing. No real title, for it would go to the next heir, and no money either.”
“Such a shame that Lord Billings is unwell,” Jane murmured. “Of course, Mr. Montrose is quite good-looking.”
Dimity sighed. “Such a pity he isn’t eligible. But no matter how large the weaver’s fortune, it just won’t do.”
“You astound me,” Celia said.
“Oh, it’s different for you, of course, Miss Overton, because the fact that your money comes from trade can be disguised somewhat by your husband’s standing–assuming of course that some gentleman should offer for you. But for a man to bring the whiff of trade into a marriage…” Dimity shook her head sadly.
So much for Celia’s half-formed plan to keep Simon too busy with his own flirtations to interfere with her efforts. It had seemed such a good idea at breakfast. But if the Carew sisters weren’t likely to take him seriously…
Then perhaps you should give them a reason.
Celia spoke before she could talk herself out of the notion. “It seems foolish to assess a gentleman based only on his current standing, not taking into account his potential as you did with Lord Billings.”
Prudence looked offended. “Of course it would be short-sighted.”
Dimity frowned. “Are you suggesting someone here is in line for a grand inheritance?” Celia could almost see her ticking names off a list. “But all the gentlemen are in full possession of their estates except for Lord Bilious… I mean, Lord Billings.”
An imp seemed to take hold of Celia’s brain. “Perhaps you didn’t realize Mr. Montrose is in line for a title.” Her conscience pinged, but she silenced it. She hadn’t told an untruth… not exactly. As the great-grandson of a viscount, Simon must be in some line of succession. The fact there were probably twenty male uncles and cousins ahead of him in that line by now was immaterial, really.
Prudence sniffed. “If that were the case, Hester wouldn’t be so uninterested.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t know it,” Celia murmured. “It’s something he prefers not to speak of. Oh, here’s the village. Which shop should we visit first, do you think?”
****
When Simon reached the drawing room that evening, he was relieved to find
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