She had every reason to believe they’d get along well, even though they’d not once been left alone together. Still, their escorts had been discreet, allowing them to speak freely. Lorne had even shyly kissed her on the cheek, last night. In time, they might fall in love. She’d like that. And even if they didn’t, he would give her the children she so longed for. Life was full of compromises.
The archbishop was speaking in that singsong voice of his that was at once soft yet somehow carried to the very back of the grandest church. Louise let the words wash over her, a warm and calming stream. She daydreamed of her honeymoon—Lorne making tender love to her, his soft hands opening her gown to touch the places on her body that most longed for his caresses. And she would discover ways to please him.
The images in her mind brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. She raised her eyelashes shyly to glance up at him in anticipation.
Their gazes met.
He grinned and winked. Did he know what she was thinking?
It was at that moment something odd caught her eye. A motion off to her left and above. Startled, she turned her head just far enough to take in her mother’s box.
John Brown, once a lowly gillie in the queen’s stables at Balmoral in Scotland, and now her personal attendant and self-appointed bodyguard, stood behind Victoria, physically blocking a man who seemed to be trying to force his way into the queen’s box. A frisson of alarm shot through Louise.
“Steady,” Lorne whispered in her ear, grasping her hand. “Brown’s handling it.”
The archbishop, too, seemed to have noticed the disturbance, but he droned on, the ultimate performer under pressure.
Louise glimpsed Victoria waving off Brown. The stranger bent down, as though to whisper something in the queen’s ear. He wore rough riding clothes, a long, dung brown overcoat of a less than fashionable cut, in what appeared to be scuffed leather. He looked unshaven. As if he hadn’t bothered to even run a comb through his spiky black hair. In one hand he held not a stovepipe top hat, which was the only acceptable headwear for a gentleman in London, but a strange wide-brimmed style of black felt hat she’d never seen on any head in all of England.
Louise turned back to face the bishop, fearful of missing the rest of her own wedding. The next time she glanced back, the stranger had gone.
Lorne squeezed her hand, as if to say, All is well.
Was it? She shivered but forced a smile in return.
Then all at once, the archbishop was giving them his blessing. A joyous “Hurrah!” rang out in the chapel. Her new husband kissed her sweetly on the lips, and every concern fled her mind at this excruciatingly joyful moment.
All she could think of was the night that lay before them—her first night as a married woman.
Two
Amanda Locock stood beside the dressing table in the bridal suite at Claremont House while Lady Caroline Barrington unpinned Louise’s hair and brushed it into soft golden brown waves down her back. “I’m so sorry about bringing Eddie with me to your wedding dinner and concert,” Amanda said.
The music that followed the lavish meal at Windsor had been one formal event too many for a restless four-year-old. Amanda walked him up and down the great echo-y hallway outside the grand salon until he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. She’d been able to bring him back inside in time for her to hear the lovely Bach violin solo, played so beautifully by Herr Joachim.
“You know how unpredictable my husband is. He promised to watch Eddie while I stayed for the reception and concert, but one of his patients was in urgent need of him.”
Louise waved off her concern, reached up and ruffled the little boy’s hair. No longer a toddler, Eddie still loved to be propped on his mother’s hip. He buried his face shyly against her breast now, looking pink-eyed and exhausted by the day’s activities.
“You know I love to see Eddie any chance I get.” Louise opened the drawer in her dressing table and pulled out a tin of saltwater taffies. “What you need, my darling, is a little more energy to get you through the rest of the day.”
“More sugar?” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Henry has this notion that my indulging the child with sweets keeps him up late at night.” But she laughed as he selected with great concentration a single candy from the tin. “Here, love, let me unwrap that for you. Then you go sit on your favorite chair over there and suck on it while I talk to your godmother.”
“He’s growing so fast,” Louise said, her eyes misting with affection as she watched the child stride away from them. “Soon he’ll be all grown up.”
“I know. That’s why I’m particularly happy with the news I have to tell you.” Amanda bounced on her toes and felt she might burst like an iridescent soap bubble with happiness.
“News?”
“I’m with child.” She giggled at Louise’s shriek of joy. “Henry says the baby will be here in August.” They had tried for a brother or sister for Eddie for years, but after miscarrying two babies she’d nearly given up hope. “I didn’t say anything to you sooner because of the other times, you know.” The thought of her lost babes nearly undid her.
Louise shot to her feet, tears in her eyes, nearly knocking over Lady Car in her haste to reach Amanda and clasp her in her arms. “Oh, my dear, I’m so happy for you. Maybe a little girl then?”
“We’ll see. Why so weepy? Are they tears of happiness for me?”
“Of course.”
Amanda knew better. “You and Lorne will have your own brood in no time. You’ll be tripping over little ones.”
Louise laughed and wiped away her teardrops. “I’d love that. Truly.”
“Your Royal Highness,” Lady Car interrupted with a meaningful glance toward the door.
Louise smiled. “Yes, of course.” She turned back to Amanda. “Speaking of Lorne.”
Amanda gasped. “What a ninny I am, standing here gossiping with you while your new husband is waiting to take you off to bed.” She laughed, thrilled for her friend. No matter what Louise might think, Amanda was sure that marriage would agree with her friend. Children meant so very much to her, and Lorne seemed such a stable counterpart to Louise’s sometimes impulsive nature. “Come, Eddie. Let’s run along and let your Auntie Loosy be alone with her new husband.” She cast Louise a knowing look and teased, “Don’t need no pointers from an old married woman, do you now?”
Louise lifted her gaze to the ceiling but watched Lady Car out the door before she responded. “It’s not as though it’s the first time; we both know that.”
Amanda smiled. “ ’deed I do.” She had started toward the doorway when Louise reached out to clasp her arm and hold her back.
“What do I tell him?” Louise’s face was tight with anxiety, her voice tremulous.
Before she answered, Amanda pushed her son a few steps in front of her and out the door. “You wait for me right there,” she instructed him then ducked back inside the bedchamber. “The truth,” she whispered. “What else?”
“I was wondering, maybe I could just say . . . nothing?”
“And you think the man won’t realize you’re not a virgin?” Amanda laughed. “That’s wishful, girl.” She winced. “Sorry I’m reverting to my old ways, Your Highness.”
Louise cuffed her gently on the arm. “Stop that. We stand on no formalities, you and I.” She sighed. “I had guessed, from things my mother said in recent days, that Lorne might already know. So, why bring it up? I mean, it’s quite possible she’s told him about my wild years.”