arm to lead her from the church and realised that the hardest part was still to come. She still had to tell him that he had been duped to a certain extent, and that was beginning to weigh heavily on her conscience.
The bridal party moved to the Rectory, where Phoebe, Sarah and Mrs Ffolliot whirled Penelope upstairs to change out of the wedding dress, which had been worn by Phoebe a week earlier. ‘Darling Phoebe, thank you for letting me wear it. It was like being held by you all the time,’ said Penelope, hugging her twin. ‘Oh, Sarah! I couldn’t have managed without you. You were wonderful!’ Sarah blushed and blew her nose noisily.
‘Penny, are you sure you don’t want Richard to tell Lord Darleston?’ asked her mother.
‘Quite sure, Mama,’ said Penelope. ‘You see, if I don’t tell him it will be because I am scared. Even if it is all a bit irregular I don’t want to start by not trusting him enough to tell him myself.’
In no time at all it seemed she was being handed into the chaise. Some surprise had been expressed by the groom when he realised that Gelert was going to accompany them, and George had proved no help at all, saying enthusiastically to the new Countess of Darleston, ‘Just the thing, Lady Darleston. Peter was telling me how much he admired your dog!’
Peter had glared at him and given in gracefully, thinking that as the dog was bound to join the household anyway it might as well be now as later. He followed his wife and her dog into the chaise, and thedoor was shut behind him by Richard Winton, who said in affectionate accents, ‘Behave yourself, Penny,’ then, in a more challenging tone of voice, ‘Look after her, Lord Darleston.’
His lordship accepted this blunt command with commendable meekness, merely saying, ‘I shall hope to receive both you and Mrs Winton at Darleston Court in the very near future so that you may assure yourself that I am doing so. Goodbye, Winton, and thank you.’
He noticed that as Winton stepped back from the chaise his arm was tapped by a nervous-looking old man who had sat at the back of the church with the Ffolliot’s upper servants. Peter rather thought that he must be the butler. He dismissed the matter from his mind as his bride spoke.
‘I am afraid Richard has become very older-brotherish since he became engaged to my sister,’ said Penelope apologetically as the chaise rolled away.
‘So it would appear,’ said Peter. ‘Are you tired, Lady Darleston? I dare say you were up early and have been very busy. Perhaps you would care to rest? We have some sixty miles to travel to Darleston Court.’
Concealing her surprise at the formality of his address, Penelope admitted that she had been awake early and that a nap would be welcome. Sleep was far away, however, so she settled herself back in the corner of the chaise to count to five thousand while she worked out how to start explaining herself to her husband. My husband, she thought. If only I could see him! I don’t even know what he looks like, only Phoebe’s description. She reached five thousand and sat up, ready to begin her confession, when a gentle snore informed her that his lordship was asleep.
It appeared to Penelope that a couple of hours passed before her husband awoke as they pulled into an inn-yard to change the horses. Lord Darleston procured a basket of food and they were on their way again. This was it, decided Penelope. She had to get it over with! Before she could start, however, Lord Darleston spoke.
‘My lady, I think it is important that I make my position quite clear to you at the start. As you are possibly aware, this is my second marriage. My first wife disgraced my name and I would not have chosen to marry again except for the recent death of my cousin and heir. His death means that the title must go, after me, to a man I consider totally unworthy of it. To be perfectly honest with you I have married to beget an heir. I am sorry if you are shocked at my plain
The bridal party moved to the Rectory, where Phoebe, Sarah and Mrs Ffolliot whirled Penelope upstairs to change out of the wedding dress, which had been worn by Phoebe a week earlier. ‘Darling Phoebe, thank you for letting me wear it. It was like being held by you all the time,’ said Penelope, hugging her twin. ‘Oh, Sarah! I couldn’t have managed without you. You were wonderful!’ Sarah blushed and blew her nose noisily.
‘Penny, are you sure you don’t want Richard to tell Lord Darleston?’ asked her mother.
‘Quite sure, Mama,’ said Penelope. ‘You see, if I don’t tell him it will be because I am scared. Even if it is all a bit irregular I don’t want to start by not trusting him enough to tell him myself.’
In no time at all it seemed she was being handed into the chaise. Some surprise had been expressed by the groom when he realised that Gelert was going to accompany them, and George had proved no help at all, saying enthusiastically to the new Countess of Darleston, ‘Just the thing, Lady Darleston. Peter was telling me how much he admired your dog!’
Peter had glared at him and given in gracefully, thinking that as the dog was bound to join the household anyway it might as well be now as later. He followed his wife and her dog into the chaise, and thedoor was shut behind him by Richard Winton, who said in affectionate accents, ‘Behave yourself, Penny,’ then, in a more challenging tone of voice, ‘Look after her, Lord Darleston.’
His lordship accepted this blunt command with commendable meekness, merely saying, ‘I shall hope to receive both you and Mrs Winton at Darleston Court in the very near future so that you may assure yourself that I am doing so. Goodbye, Winton, and thank you.’
He noticed that as Winton stepped back from the chaise his arm was tapped by a nervous-looking old man who had sat at the back of the church with the Ffolliot’s upper servants. Peter rather thought that he must be the butler. He dismissed the matter from his mind as his bride spoke.
‘I am afraid Richard has become very older-brotherish since he became engaged to my sister,’ said Penelope apologetically as the chaise rolled away.
‘So it would appear,’ said Peter. ‘Are you tired, Lady Darleston? I dare say you were up early and have been very busy. Perhaps you would care to rest? We have some sixty miles to travel to Darleston Court.’
Concealing her surprise at the formality of his address, Penelope admitted that she had been awake early and that a nap would be welcome. Sleep was far away, however, so she settled herself back in the corner of the chaise to count to five thousand while she worked out how to start explaining herself to her husband. My husband, she thought. If only I could see him! I don’t even know what he looks like, only Phoebe’s description. She reached five thousand and sat up, ready to begin her confession, when a gentle snore informed her that his lordship was asleep.
It appeared to Penelope that a couple of hours passed before her husband awoke as they pulled into an inn-yard to change the horses. Lord Darleston procured a basket of food and they were on their way again. This was it, decided Penelope. She had to get it over with! Before she could start, however, Lord Darleston spoke.
‘My lady, I think it is important that I make my position quite clear to you at the start. As you are possibly aware, this is my second marriage. My first wife disgraced my name and I would not have chosen to marry again except for the recent death of my cousin and heir. His death means that the title must go, after me, to a man I consider totally unworthy of it. To be perfectly honest with you I have married to beget an heir. I am sorry if you are shocked at my plain
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