day’s dawn, but from the first—when he’d glimpsed her going into the private family breakfast—Frances had glowed, happiness and joy and delighted expectation rendering her nothing short of radiant.
Nell, gowned in deep violet satin of a shade that matched her eyes, followed Frances into the room, smiling and laughing at something Frances had said; she transfixed Robert’s eyes and attention effortlessly. Even walking in Frances’s train, to him, Nell was beyond compare.
Throughout the long day, he and she consulted frequently, working through an extensive list of items to be tweaked and last-minute matters to confirm.
As in any major diplomatic event, adjustments had to be made due to unforeseen happenings—like the elderly Grand Duchess of Bavaria, being unable to stand and so unable to see from her allotted perch in the gallery, having to be accommodated nearer the altar—but between them he and Nell rose to the challenge, and not a single disturbance marred the day.
Frederick and Frances made a perfect royal couple, the glow in their eyes and investing their expressions whenever they looked on each other clear for all to see. The populace of Lautenberg, many of whom had crowded into the streets of Kremunz, roared their approval.
The wedding breakfast passed off without incident, and then it was time for the newlyweds to depart on the royal barge on the first night of a romantic wedding cruise.
All those who could followed the royal couple and their attendant families to the docks, where the barge, suitably bedecked, bobbed on a gentle swell.
Half an hour of laughter, cheers, and a short thank-you speech from Frederick to his assembled countrymen, and the ropes were cast off and the barge eased into the river.
Robert watched the gap widen between the dock and the deck, and finally felt the pressure of the day slide from his shoulders.
Nell, standing beside him, sent one last wave toward her sister and her new husband, then linked her arm in Robert’s and heaved a heartfelt sigh. “It’s done.”
“Indeed.” Standing in front of Robert, Valeria turned and considered him and her daughter. “And what about you?”
As ever, her question was ambiguous, but, unruffled, Robert smiled and answered it as his future mama-in-law had intended. “As it happens, Your Grace, I’ll be returning to England with your party.” Raising his gaze, he included the duke, who had come to stand beside Valeria. “I intend to return to London, at least long enough to marry Nell.”
The duke smiled. “Excellent!” He clasped Robert’s hand and shook it heartily. “About time.” The duke beamed at his daughter.
Valeria looked at Nell expectantly, as did Robert. She was staring at them all, apparently struck dumb. Valeria arched her fine brows. “If she’ll have you, I suspect you meant to say.”
“No, Your Grace.” Meeting Nell’s stunned eyes, Robert placed his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Regardless of what she says from now until then, I will meet her before the altar at St. George’s. I have no intention of drawing back. Again. I love her, and I know she loves me, and”—raising her hand, he pressed a kiss to her fingers—“once I finally get my ring on her finger, I look forward to a long and happy life side by side.”
Valeria looked from him to Nell, then smiled delightedly. “Amen.”
J ULY 7, 1826
T HE D ECK OF THE MARY AND HENRY ,
BOUND FOR THE R HINE, CROSSING THE E NGLIS H C HANNEL
T he wind blew fair and the schooner leapt through the waves. Clutching the rail a little short of the bow, Nell stood with Robert, a comforting shield at her back, and watched the coast of Holland take shape on the horizon.
They were returning to Lautenberg, to what would be their home for the foreseeable future, possibly for the rest of their lives. Robert’s masters at the Foreign Office had been beyond delighted to learn of his proposed alliance with the Daughtrys; the reassurance of having a
Nell, gowned in deep violet satin of a shade that matched her eyes, followed Frances into the room, smiling and laughing at something Frances had said; she transfixed Robert’s eyes and attention effortlessly. Even walking in Frances’s train, to him, Nell was beyond compare.
Throughout the long day, he and she consulted frequently, working through an extensive list of items to be tweaked and last-minute matters to confirm.
As in any major diplomatic event, adjustments had to be made due to unforeseen happenings—like the elderly Grand Duchess of Bavaria, being unable to stand and so unable to see from her allotted perch in the gallery, having to be accommodated nearer the altar—but between them he and Nell rose to the challenge, and not a single disturbance marred the day.
Frederick and Frances made a perfect royal couple, the glow in their eyes and investing their expressions whenever they looked on each other clear for all to see. The populace of Lautenberg, many of whom had crowded into the streets of Kremunz, roared their approval.
The wedding breakfast passed off without incident, and then it was time for the newlyweds to depart on the royal barge on the first night of a romantic wedding cruise.
All those who could followed the royal couple and their attendant families to the docks, where the barge, suitably bedecked, bobbed on a gentle swell.
Half an hour of laughter, cheers, and a short thank-you speech from Frederick to his assembled countrymen, and the ropes were cast off and the barge eased into the river.
Robert watched the gap widen between the dock and the deck, and finally felt the pressure of the day slide from his shoulders.
Nell, standing beside him, sent one last wave toward her sister and her new husband, then linked her arm in Robert’s and heaved a heartfelt sigh. “It’s done.”
“Indeed.” Standing in front of Robert, Valeria turned and considered him and her daughter. “And what about you?”
As ever, her question was ambiguous, but, unruffled, Robert smiled and answered it as his future mama-in-law had intended. “As it happens, Your Grace, I’ll be returning to England with your party.” Raising his gaze, he included the duke, who had come to stand beside Valeria. “I intend to return to London, at least long enough to marry Nell.”
The duke smiled. “Excellent!” He clasped Robert’s hand and shook it heartily. “About time.” The duke beamed at his daughter.
Valeria looked at Nell expectantly, as did Robert. She was staring at them all, apparently struck dumb. Valeria arched her fine brows. “If she’ll have you, I suspect you meant to say.”
“No, Your Grace.” Meeting Nell’s stunned eyes, Robert placed his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Regardless of what she says from now until then, I will meet her before the altar at St. George’s. I have no intention of drawing back. Again. I love her, and I know she loves me, and”—raising her hand, he pressed a kiss to her fingers—“once I finally get my ring on her finger, I look forward to a long and happy life side by side.”
Valeria looked from him to Nell, then smiled delightedly. “Amen.”
J ULY 7, 1826
T HE D ECK OF THE MARY AND HENRY ,
BOUND FOR THE R HINE, CROSSING THE E NGLIS H C HANNEL
T he wind blew fair and the schooner leapt through the waves. Clutching the rail a little short of the bow, Nell stood with Robert, a comforting shield at her back, and watched the coast of Holland take shape on the horizon.
They were returning to Lautenberg, to what would be their home for the foreseeable future, possibly for the rest of their lives. Robert’s masters at the Foreign Office had been beyond delighted to learn of his proposed alliance with the Daughtrys; the reassurance of having a
Similar Books
