Adam laughed aloud at that. Hearing him, Christopher excused himself from a conversation with Julia's mother and uncle and came over to join them, snagging a fresh glass of champagne on the way, dapper and elegant in his clerical suit and collar. He spared an amused look for his daughters, then asked in a conspiratorial undertone, ' 'Has Julia seen the painting yet?"
Adam shook his head. "Not yet. I've had Humphrey put it on an easel right beside the head table. She'll get her first glimpse of it when Peregrine leads her to her place."
"So it's still a surprise. Good." Christopher grinned like a schoolboy. "I hope that photographer will be around to catch the expression on her face!"
As soon as Julia rejoined them, the members of the wedding party reconvened in the vestibule and entry hall to receive their guests before retiring to the marquee for lunch. Following several of Julia's school chums, one of the first to come through the line was a fragile, elderly woman in a wheelchair, lifted up the steps, chair and all, by Anderson and Andrews. She was swathed in a graceful sari of sapphire silk shot with silver, with a paisley shawl draped over her lap. A handsome sapphire set in a golden scarab graced her right hand, and Indian bangles circled both wrists. A somewhat younger companion accompanied her, guiding the chair. Peregrine's face lit up at the sight of the pair.
"Lady Julian!" he exclaimed, going to her. "And Mrs. Fyvie! I'm so glad you could come!"
"You know I wouldn't have missed this day for the world," Lady Julian said, smiling as she gave Peregrine both her hands and accepted the salute of his kiss on her cheek. "Julia, my dear, you look positively radiant, as all brides should. Are you pleased with the rings?"
Slipping one arm through Peregrine's, Julia leaned down to display her left hand, for Lady Julian, an accomplished jeweller, had made both their rings. Peregrine had opted for a plain gold band lightly etched with a Celtic interlace design; Julia's narrower band nestled close to the heart-shaped ruby she wore as an engagement ring. The latter had belonged to Peregrine's grandmother.
"They're absolutely wonderful," Julia said, eyes shining, "and all the more special for having been made by you. I look forward to wearing mine for a lifetime."
"You have my prayers that that lifetime may be a long and happy one, my dear," Lady Julian said.
"I promise you, I shall do everything in my power to make it so," Peregrine replied, with an adoring glance at his bride.
The cheerful buzz of conversation swelled as guests continued to present themselves, passing through the drawing room then and onto the terrace, with the marquee beyond. Some of Peregrine's guests were former schoolmates, but many were his former clients and patrons.
Perhaps most prominent among the latter were the Earl and Countess of Kintoul. The earl was closer to Adam's age than to Peregrine's, but Peregrine had been close friends with the earl's younger brother, the Honourable Alasdair, tragically killed in a motoring accident shortly after both young men left university. After Alasdair's death, his mother had adopted Peregrine as a surrogate son, and had become his first really important client and patron as his career began to take off. She sadly had not lived to see the flowering of his friendship with Adam, following her introduction, but she had remembered him in her will with a modest bursary and the bequest of a beloved and valuable vintage motorcar. The dark green Alvis drop-head coupe parked near the marquee, poised for the honeymoon getaway, had been known affectionately as "Algy" by the Kintoul family.
"The best of all good wishes to you and your enchanting bride," the earl said to Peregrine, shaking his hand as Lady Kintoul gave Julia a fond hug. "Julia, has he let you drive Algy yet?"
Julia rolled celestial blue eyes and pulled a mock pout. "Not so far, I'm afraid - though, in fairness, I must admit that my esteemed husband has been having the engine gone over so that Algy will be ready for our wedding trip. I shan't tell you where we're going, but he has promised me a turn at the wheel once we get away in the countryside - and I intend to see that promise gets kept!"
"I shall look forward to your assessment of the old bus," the earl replied, laughing as his wife poked him in the ribs and said, "Shame on you, David Kintoul! Algy is not an 'old bus'! Julia, you're going to love it. Just don't let Peregrine bully you into thinking that driving vintage cars is an esoteric sport, reserved only for men!"
Of a slightly different tenor was the brief exchange with General Sir Gordon Scott-Brown, John Anderson's benefactor, soon to retire as Governor of Edinburgh Castle. He was escorting his wife and younger daughter, both of whom had sat for Peregrine to paint their portraits in the past year. A prominent Freemason, the general had been of material assistance to Adam and his associates some months past, when a lodge of black magicians had set about killing off Freemasons. Since then, Peregrine had received several important commissions on the strength of the general's recommendation. Now Sir Gordon shook Peregrine's hand vigorously and tipped him a jaunty wink.
"Come and see me when you get back from your honeymoon, Mr. Lovat," he told the young artist. "My Lodge is celebrating its centenary this year, and we're hoping to have a group portrait painted for the occasion. I've let it be known that you're the man for the job."
When it was time for the wedding luncheon to commence, the Earl of Kintoul's personal piper struck up "Mairi's Wedding" and led the newly weds out to the marquee. The photographer had been alerted, and was standing near a large gilt-framed oil painting set on an easel near the head table. Peregrine said nothing as he led his bride across the parquet floor, but Julia noticed the painting almost immediately. She caught her breath as they came abreast of it, half in delight and half in awe.
"Peregrine, did you do this?" she exclaimed, as the piper finished his tune.
Peregrine acknowledged responsibility with a sheepish grin. "Let it never be said that romance is dead," he told his bride. "I hope you like it."
"Like it? I adore it!" Julia exclaimed - and threw both her arms impulsively around his neck, to the delight of the watching guests and a smattering of applause.
It was a unique wedding gift, that only Peregrine himself could have created for his bride. In composition and technique, the painting was a faithful reflection of a nineteenth-century work by the Scottish artist Alexander Johnstone. The original portrayed a romanticized Bonnie Prince Charlie nrreecffig Ffora MacDonald for the first time, with the kilted Prince seated beside a rustic table in a rough stone cottage. Before him, outlined against the light from an open doorway, stood the legendary heroine who had helped him elude his English pursuers "over the sea to Skye."
Peregrine had re-created every detail of the original with consummate skill and deliberation. In his version, however, the features of the principals had been altered to mirror a cast of familiar faces. The Flora MacDonald of Johnstone's original painting now wore Julia's fair visage and a fanciful conjecture of her wedding gown, which Peregrine had never seen before today. The latter was a close likeness, suggesting that Peregrine might have had a conference with his bride's dressmaker.
Peregrine himself had assumed the identity of the Bonnie Prince, kilted in his customary Fraser of Lovat tartan, hazel eyes brimful of adoration as he gazed up at his fair rescuer. In a puckish display of humor, the glint of his wire-rimmed spectacles was clearly visible. The handsome laird who was presenting Flora by the hand displayed the darkly handsome features of Adam and wore his Sinclair tartan. Other figures in the painting were clearly recognizable as Matthew and Janet Fraser and Julia's Uncle Alfred, all of whom had been present when the newlyweds first met. Casting her gaze over the detailing, Julia gave a little crow of laughter and clapped her hands in delight.