Splendid by Julia Quinn
Alex laughed out loud. “I promise you, my love, that in honor of our first meeting, we shall have plenty of flowers at your wedding, but you won’t have to arrange any of them.”
Emma stole a quick glance at his profile as he laughed. He couldn’t be treating her so tenderly if he didn’t love her a little, could he? She brushed aside her doubts. If he didn’t love her yet, he did desire her, that much was abundantly clear. And he liked her a great deal, too. That was certainly a good start. Emma took a deep breath as she felt her infamous stubborn streak rise up within her. She could make this marriage work. She would make it work. She had to.
The next few days passed by in a flurry of activity. Alex tried to stick by his initial idea of having the wedding that weekend, but after five minutes of “discussion” with Caroline, he reluctantly agreed to push the date back by a week. Emma wisely kept out of the fray.
“A week and a half is still dreadful,” Caroline remarked. “But at least we can put together something nice. Two days would have been impossible.”
An hour after Alex finally left that morning, the dowager Duchess of Ashbourne arrived on the Blydon doorstep, insisting that she be allowed to take part in the wedding preparations. No one pointed out that it was only half past seven in the morning. Eugenia seemed to regard her son’s forthcoming nuptials as nothing short of a miracle, and the mere fact that the early hour was beyond unfashionable wasn’t going to stop her from making sure that the marriage went off without a hitch. After about fifteen minutes with Eugenia and Caroline, Emma finally threw up her arms, asked the two ladies to please consult her on any decision of large importance, went upstairs to her room, and promptly went to bed. She hadn’t had very much sleep the previous night, after all.
When she awoke, some six hours later, she was famished. Someone had managed to pull away from the wedding plans long enough to thoughtfully see that a tray was brought up to Emma’s room, so she quickly gulped down the slice of meat pie and juice that had been left on her dressing table, took a bath, and got dressed. After a day in men’s clothing, she found her jade green walking dress somewhat confining but decided that it really wouldn’t do to continue walking around in breeches. Then she sat down at her desk and penned a quick note to her father, explaining her circumstances and promising to write him a more lengthy letter soon, telling him all about Alex and the wedding.
When she finally headed downstairs at three o’clock, Caroline and Eugenia were exactly where she had left them, tossing names back and forth as they prepared the guest list. Belle and Sophie had joined the party and were having a heated argument over Emma’s bouquet. When they saw the bride arrive, they immediately turned the matter over to her.
“Oh, roses, I think,” Emma replied. “Don’t you?”
Both women rolled their eyes. “Yes, of course, but what color?” Belle asked.
“Oh. Well, that depends on what color I choose for my attendants’ gowns, I suppose.”
Belle and Sophie looked at her expectantly, and Emma realized that she was going to have to make a decision. “Well, the two of you will be my only attendants, so what color would you like to wear?”
“Peach.”
“Blue.”
Emma swallowed. “I see. Well, perhaps we ought to just go with white roses in my bouquet for now. White will match everything. Especially me!” she added with a jaunty smile. “I can get married in white, can’t I?” she asked quickly. “I know it’s not the height of fashion, but I have a friend in Boston who wore white for her wedding, and it was so beautiful.”
“You can get married in whatever color you want,” her aunt replied. “Your first fitting is this evening. Madame Lambert is staying open late tonight so that we can get the dress done in time.”
“That’s very kind of her,” Emma murmured, wondering how much extra Caroline had offered to persuade the dressmaker to extend her hours. “What else have you decided upon?”
“We’ll hold the wedding at Westonbirt, if you don’t mind,” Caroline said. “It’s too late to get any of the large cathedrals here in London.”
“I know it’s customary for the wedding to be held at the bride’s home,” Eugenia put in. “But you do live in Boston, after all, and Westonbirt is several hours closer to London than your cousins’ country home.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” Emma replied. “Westonbirt is lovely. And after all, it’s soon to be my home.”
Eugenia’s eyes filled with tears as she took both of Emma’s hands in her own. “I’m so glad that you’re joining our family.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, giving Eugenia’s hands a squeeze. “I’m glad to be joining it.”
“Now then,” Caroline said breezily. “Back to the guest list. What about Viscount Benton?”
Emma gasped. Anthony Woodside? “No!” she cried out.
Caroline and Eugenia both turned to look at her, their expressions quizzical.
“I—I really don’t like him,” she said quickly. “And I think he makes Belle uncomfortable.”
Belle nodded.
“Very well,” Caroline said, making a dark slash through his name on the list she was preparing.
“I can’t imagine that most people will be able to attend,” Emma said, somewhat hopefully. “It’s such late notice, after all, and a three-hour ride from London.”
All four of her companions turned to her with shocked expressions. “Are you crazy?” Belle finally asked. “People are going to be tripping over themselves to get there. The Duke of Ashbourne is getting married. The duke of ‘I have no interest in marriage’ is getting married. And he’s marrying a relatively unknown quantity from the Colonies, no less. This is going to be the social event of the season.”
“The hurriedness of the affair is only going to make people even more interested,” Sophie added. “It adds a touch of scandal and intrigue. And romance, of course.”
“I see,” Emma said weakly. “But I think Alex wanted a small affair.”
“Oh, pish!” Eugenia said dismissively. “I am his mother, and I don’t care what he wants. My son only has a wedding once in his lifetime, and I intend to enjoy it.” Eugenia sat back, and Emma decided that there was no point in further protests.
And, indeed, she didn’t argue for the next week, letting herself get carried along on the wave of wedding preparations. The only break she got—besides sleep, which she wasn’t getting enough of— was when Ned marched into the parlor and forcibly stole her away from her bevy of current and future female relatives. “We,” he announced, “are going for a ride.”
Emma was only too glad to escape, and the two of them took the carriage out to a popular shop for tea and cakes.
“I wanted to tell you what happened with Wood-side,” Ned said as soon as they were settled at their table.
“Oh my goodness,” Emma breathed. “I almost forgot! What happened?”
“He tried to collect the debt on Friday at White’s.”
“And?”
“And I told him that I certainly wasn’t going to pay my gambling debt twice.”
Emma clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Ned, you didn’t!”
“I did. He got all flustered and started to make a scene until I pulled the voucher out of my pocket. I raised my eyebrows and asked him how on earth I could have gotten the voucher back if I hadn’t already paid my debt.”
“He must have been furious.”
“That, my dear cousin, is an understatement. I thought he was going to explode. And everyone heard what happened. I don’t think he’ll be accepted at respectable card games for years.”
“Oh, this is brilliant,” Emma said. “You know, I think I must be developing a vindictive streak because I’m really enjoying his distress.”
“How unladylike of you,” Ned teased. “But seriously, Emma. He was really angry. I think we might want to watch out for him. He’ll want revenge.”
Emma took a sip of her tea. “Really, Ned, what can he do to us? Spread rumors? No on
“I don’t know. I just think we should be careful.”
“Careful, maybe. But worried? I don’t think so. He’s not exactly the murderous type.”
“Oh really?”
Emma shook her head as she raised her eyes heavenward. “He’s far too fastidious.”
Chapter 21
Before Emma could catch her breath, she found herself at Westonbirt, watching as over a hundred workmen and servants put the finishing touches on what must have been the most hastily arranged wedding in decades. Caroline and Eugenia were in their element, and Emma had to admit that they had performed no less than a miracle. Caroline often remarked that she could have done better if she’d had a little more time, which made Emma laugh because the arrangements far exceeded anything she had ever dreamed of back in Boston.
After some good-natured bickering by Sophie and Belle over blue and peach, Emma finally declared that mint green would reign as the color of the day, which turned out to be a wise decision because both women looked perfectly marvelous in their gowns.
But it was the bride who would capture everyone’s heart. At her final fitting for her wedding dress, Belle had gasped and said that she had never seen Emma looking quite so beautiful. The gown was a slightly old-fashioned style, with the waist where it was supposed to be rather than following the latest rage, which dictated that it be located right under the bust. Emma liked the new style and had many dresses cut that way, but she declared that it just wouldn’t do for a wedding dress. Madame Lambert had agreed instantly and had fashioned a sumptuous gown of ivory silk with a modest neckline that just barely grazed her shoulders, long tight-fitting sleeves, and layers of underskirts that made the dress billow out gracefully from Emma’s waist. Emma had decreed that the gown be kept relatively simple, and so no jewels or bows adorned it.
The result was breathtaking. The cut flattered Emma’s small frame, emphasizing her small waist and the elegant line of her throat. But it was the color of the silk that really did the trick. Emma had started out with her heart set on white, but Madame Lambert had refused and insisted on ivory. She was absolutely right; the new material set off Emma’s complexion perfectly, and she positively glowed.
Although it might just have been love.
Still, Emma decided, the dress helped.
Finally, the day of the wedding arrived, and Emma awoke with at least three dozen butterflies in her stomach. Then, as if on cue, Belle bounded into her room and without any preamble asked, “Are you nervous?”
“Dreadfully.”
“Good. You’re supposed to be nervous, you know. Marriage is a very big step, after all. It’s probably the biggest event in a woman’s life. After being born, of course, and dying, I suppose, but—”
“That’s enough!” Emma bit out.
Belle smiled devilishly.
“You fiend,” Emma muttered, swatting her cousin with a pillow.
“I ordered up some morning chocolate,” Belle said. “It should be here any minute. I didn’t think you’d want to eat anything more substantial this morning.”
“No,” Emma agreed softly, gazing out the window.
Belle took in her serious expression and immediately asked, “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
Emma broke out of her reverie. “No, of course not. I love Alex, you know. I don’t know if I ever told you, but I do.”
“I knew that you did!”
“I only wish that my father could give me away. I do miss him. And now I’ll be living so far away.”
Belle patted Emma’s hand consolingly. “I know. But you have us, after all. And Ashbourne’s family adores you. And your father will visit you. I know he will. But don’t tell my father how much you’re missing Uncle John. He’s practically bursting with pride at the thought of giving you away.”
A knock on the door sounded, and Sophie entered the room, still in her dressing gown. “I intercepted the maid on the stairs and had her go back to the kitchen for extra chocolate,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind. She should be up shortly.”
“Of course not,” Emma said with a smile. “The more the merrier.”
“I cannot believe the sheer amount of activity in this house,” Sophie continued. “Have either of you been downstairs yet?”
Both Emma and Belle shook their heads.
“It’s a madhouse. I was nearly run over by a footman. And the guests have already started to arrive!”
“You’re joking!” Belle replied. “They must have gotten up at four in the morning to get here now.”
“Well, Alex was positively beastly when Mama suggested that we invite everyone to spend the night. Only a very select few were allowed to come last night, and he insisted that absolutely everyone vacate the premises by tonight.”
Emma blushed. “Have you seen him yet?”
“No,” Sophie said, taking a cup of chocolate from the maid who had silently entered the room. “But Dunford was up and about. He said Alex is almost climbing the walls. I imagine he’s rather anxious to have this entire wedding over and done with.”
“Yes, well, he’s not the only one,” Emma murmured, wondering when her stomach was going to stop turning cartwheels.
The wedding was scheduled to start promptly at noon, and at eleven-thirty Emma peeked out the window at the spectacle that was growing on Westonbirt’s south lawn. “Good Lord,” she gasped. “There must be two hundred people out there.”
“Closer to four, I would guess,” Belle said, joining her cousin at the window. “Mama would have liked a guest list of six hundred, but—”
“But there wasn’t enough time,” Emma finished. “I know.” Still gazing out at the lawn, she shook her head at the grandness of the affair. Gaily striped tents dotted the lawn, shielding the swarms of guests from the early July sun. As Alex had promised, there were more bouquets of flowers than Emma could count.
“Oh my,” Emma breathed. “I should never have allowed Aunt Caroline to let this get so big. I don’t know half of those people.”
“But they know you!” Sophie pointed out enthusiastically.
“Can you believe that you’re going to be a duchess?” Belle asked.
“No, I really can’t,” Emma said weakly.
And then, before she knew it, it was noon and she was standing just outside the entrance to the tent, so nervous that she could barely hear the strains of the string quartet playing her favorite Mozart piece.
“Good luck,” Sophie said just before she headed down the aisle. “Sister.”
Belle followed Sophie a few moments later, but not before she gave Emma’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Emma Dunster.”
“That’s the last time anyone will ever say that to me,” Emma whispered.
“Emma Ridgely sounds just fine to me,” Henry said, taking her arm. “Especially when it has Duchess of Ashbourne tacked on to the end of it.”
Emma smiled nervously.
“You’ll do just fine,” Henry said. And then he added softly, “I know that you’ll be very happy.”
Emma nodded, blinking back tears. “Thank you so much, Uncle Henry. For everything. I do love you, you know.”
Henry touched her cheek. “I know,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Shall we be on our way? I think your duke is going to march up the aisle and drag you back to the altar if we don’t get there soon.”
Taking a deep breath, Emma took that first step into the aisle. And when she saw Alex waiting for her at the altar, all her fears and anxieties slowly began to melt away. With each step, the joy within her grew, and she didn’t even notice the hundreds of people who had turned in their seats to watch the radiant bride process down the aisle.
Alex’s breath caught in his throat the first moment she stepped into the tent. She looked so lovely, he didn’t know how to describe it. It was as if her beauty had accumulated inside of her and was shining out through every pore. Everything about her seemed to glow, from the satin
Finally, Henry and Emma reached Alex, and Emma could not help but smile as her uncle placed her hand in that of her future husband. Looking up into Alex’s green eyes, she found an undeniable warmth in his gaze, along with hunger, possessiveness, and, yes, love. He might never have said the words, but Emma saw it clear as day in his eyes. He loved her.
He loved her, and suddenly her life seemed twice as bright as it had just moments earlier.
The rest of the ceremony passed so quickly that later Emma could remember only the barest snatches of it. Charlie standing so proudly as he held the rings on a small pillow, the warmth of Alex’s hands as he slipped the ring on her finger, Dunford’s and Ned’s cocky smiles as they watched Alex kiss her a little too passionately when the vicar finally pronounced them man and wife, and then finally, the sight of Caroline’s wet cheeks as the newly married couple breezed back up the aisle when the ceremony was over.
The party lasted for the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening. Emma found herself being congratulated by hundreds of people she didn’t know and then by hundreds of people she did. Alex stuck by her side as much as possible, but even when they were forced to socialize separately, she felt his eyes on her, and she could barely contain the dual shivers of love and desire that floated through her.
Finally after hours of dancing and dozens of toasts, Alex sidled up next to Emma and whispered in her ear, “I know it’s still early, but could we please get out of here? I want you all to myself.”
“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Emma sighed, her smile growing wider by the second.
The pair waved farewell to the crowd and then stopped by Eugenia’s side before they left. “I want everyone gone tonight,” Alex said firmly. “I don’t care if they don’t get home until dawn. They usually don’t anyway.”
“May I assume that your stinginess does not extend to members of your immediate family?” Eugenia inquired with an extremely amused expression.