to our own reception!"
"Must we go?"
"I'm afraid we must," he said in a commanding tone. "After all, I did go to a lot of trouble to plan it. We should at least put in an appearance. Aren't you shivering with anticipation to see their reactions when we tell them that they've missed the wedding?"
She rolled her eyes. "You and your surprises. Tell me, husband, why do you love to spring things on people so very much?"
He stopped pulling his boots on for a moment and looked off into the distance, really considering the question. "Well...I suppose it's because it gives me a feeling of power."
She took this in, marveling at her husband's candor. It wasn't the most flattering admittance. But the honesty of it was truly to be admired.
"I like to be the one in the know," he continued to explain. "And besides, catching people off-guard always results in hilarity. For instance, what do you think your father's face will look like when he hears the news? Or his friend Colonel Simms? They'll be shocked! Don't tell me you're not going to get some enjoyment out of that!"
She smiled. She would indeed get some enjoyment out of seeing their faces. And when she thought about it a bit more, she realized that she and Lord Eliot were probably above any serious reproach. They were both of age, both widowed. Their elopement wasn't really so shocking when it came down to it – especially considering Lord Eliot's reputation for living on the edge.
Still, it was with some reluctance that she crawled from the warmth of the covers. A large part of her never wanted to leave this small room. She stood by the bed and stretched, watching Lord Eliot don his coat. He was out the door the next minute, giving her another quick kiss and telling her he'd saddle Lodestar and Shadow.
When the door closed behind him, Cara made her way to the ceramic basin to splash some water on her face and straighten her hair. Suddenly alone, she found herself to be deeply and truly happy. It was, perhaps, the greatest surprise of all. As she did up her corset to the best of her ability and stepped into her blue wedding gown (a bit rumpled from the night it had spent on the floor of the rectory), she was humming under her breath.
Mrs. Quentin Eliot. I am Mrs. Quentin Eliot!
***
Shadow and Lodestar carried them across the moors at a soaring gallop. The spring sun warmed the earth, and the birds were singing. It was a glorious day. Cara didn't think she had ever seen fluffy clouds so perfectly white or a sky so brilliantly blue. As they rode, the natural wonders all around effectively kept her distracted from any residual anxiety about attending the reception. In fact, she felt surprisingly confident and eager to face the crowds. Perhaps it would be fun.
They approached Hedgeton from the North. Now, in the daylight, she was better able to assess the lay of the land. Although she was a bit sore from the diversions of the previous night, she managed to stand in the saddle to get a better view of the prospect up ahead as they crested a hill. There was Hedgeton Manor – no bigger than a teacup on the horizon. It was beautiful. Cara could see the hedge maze off to the right of the great house and the long driveway that led down to the road. As they rode closer, she could see that there were one or two vehicles and several riders – latecomers to the festivities, no doubt – on the driveway. But the flattened area just in front of the manor was positively packed with curricles, barouches, and the odd carriage. The day was so fair that most of the guests appeared to have opted for open-air conveyances.
They were a quarter mile away when the first faint notes of string music wafted to them on the breeze. Lord Eliot reined up now, and Cara did so, too, coming to a stop beside her husband.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well," she said. "It sounds to me like you hired a chamber group!"
"A chamber group? No, my dear. Don't be silly. I hired an orchestra!"
Her mouth dropped open. "An
"Must we go?"
"I'm afraid we must," he said in a commanding tone. "After all, I did go to a lot of trouble to plan it. We should at least put in an appearance. Aren't you shivering with anticipation to see their reactions when we tell them that they've missed the wedding?"
She rolled her eyes. "You and your surprises. Tell me, husband, why do you love to spring things on people so very much?"
He stopped pulling his boots on for a moment and looked off into the distance, really considering the question. "Well...I suppose it's because it gives me a feeling of power."
She took this in, marveling at her husband's candor. It wasn't the most flattering admittance. But the honesty of it was truly to be admired.
"I like to be the one in the know," he continued to explain. "And besides, catching people off-guard always results in hilarity. For instance, what do you think your father's face will look like when he hears the news? Or his friend Colonel Simms? They'll be shocked! Don't tell me you're not going to get some enjoyment out of that!"
She smiled. She would indeed get some enjoyment out of seeing their faces. And when she thought about it a bit more, she realized that she and Lord Eliot were probably above any serious reproach. They were both of age, both widowed. Their elopement wasn't really so shocking when it came down to it – especially considering Lord Eliot's reputation for living on the edge.
Still, it was with some reluctance that she crawled from the warmth of the covers. A large part of her never wanted to leave this small room. She stood by the bed and stretched, watching Lord Eliot don his coat. He was out the door the next minute, giving her another quick kiss and telling her he'd saddle Lodestar and Shadow.
When the door closed behind him, Cara made her way to the ceramic basin to splash some water on her face and straighten her hair. Suddenly alone, she found herself to be deeply and truly happy. It was, perhaps, the greatest surprise of all. As she did up her corset to the best of her ability and stepped into her blue wedding gown (a bit rumpled from the night it had spent on the floor of the rectory), she was humming under her breath.
Mrs. Quentin Eliot. I am Mrs. Quentin Eliot!
***
Shadow and Lodestar carried them across the moors at a soaring gallop. The spring sun warmed the earth, and the birds were singing. It was a glorious day. Cara didn't think she had ever seen fluffy clouds so perfectly white or a sky so brilliantly blue. As they rode, the natural wonders all around effectively kept her distracted from any residual anxiety about attending the reception. In fact, she felt surprisingly confident and eager to face the crowds. Perhaps it would be fun.
They approached Hedgeton from the North. Now, in the daylight, she was better able to assess the lay of the land. Although she was a bit sore from the diversions of the previous night, she managed to stand in the saddle to get a better view of the prospect up ahead as they crested a hill. There was Hedgeton Manor – no bigger than a teacup on the horizon. It was beautiful. Cara could see the hedge maze off to the right of the great house and the long driveway that led down to the road. As they rode closer, she could see that there were one or two vehicles and several riders – latecomers to the festivities, no doubt – on the driveway. But the flattened area just in front of the manor was positively packed with curricles, barouches, and the odd carriage. The day was so fair that most of the guests appeared to have opted for open-air conveyances.
They were a quarter mile away when the first faint notes of string music wafted to them on the breeze. Lord Eliot reined up now, and Cara did so, too, coming to a stop beside her husband.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well," she said. "It sounds to me like you hired a chamber group!"
"A chamber group? No, my dear. Don't be silly. I hired an orchestra!"
Her mouth dropped open. "An
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