LITMIR.BIZ

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wedding! Since the duchess had taken over, Lilly couldn’t even be sure who had been invited and who hadn’t. “Yes, I shall look for the opportunity.”

      “Thank heavens Lady Vandecamp backed down from the duchess. Though your side was in favor of a small, discreet affair, my mother has been determined to make a lavish splash with the event. I vow she has invited half the ton—even those who have removed from London for the country.”

      “My sister…”

      “Yes, my dear, we’ve all heard about Cora. And, to be perfectly honest, just the mention of her casts a pall over the occasion. Is it not time to put it behind you? After all, it has been three months.”

      She turned to look up at him. Olney had led a charmed life if he hadn’t lost anyone dear to him. He chucked her under the chin as he might a child. “Chin up, m’dear. Better days ahead. Soon you will be mine.”

      She forced a smile, pretending that the mere thought of such a thing cheered her. And, in truth, it did. Marriage to Olney would brighten her life once they settled in together.

      “My dears, come join us,” the duchess called in her imperious voice. “There will be time for sneaking away together after the wedding.”

      Olney cupped her elbow and turned her toward the grouping of chairs around the low table bearing a silver tea service. He sat her on the divan and went to stand behind her, resting one hand on her shoulder.

      “The most exciting news, my dears. Rutherford believes the king will grant permission to proceed with the wedding.”

      Lilly’s heart stopped. “I was not aware that was in question.” She twisted to look around at her betrothed. “Olney, did you not say you had acquired a license so that we would not have to wait for my parish in Belfast to forward the declaration of banns there?”

      He nodded. “Yes, but then Queen Caroline died and that has muddied the waters.”

      “A delay would be terribly inconvenient,” the duchess declared. “The invitations had already gone out when Caroline died. Why, the flowers, the food, the church—all are in readiness.”

      Mama put her teacup down with a sharp crack. “Mourning is a most serious matter, madam. I, for one, would never have cut short our mourning for Cora, and—”

      Behind her, Olney cleared his throat. Yes, Cora was not supposed to be mentioned. She sighed and looked down at her lap waiting for the inevitable rebuke from the duchess.

      “Are you correcting me, Mrs. O’Rourke?”

      “Oh, I am certain my mother would do nothing of the sort,” Lilly hastened to explain with a quick glance at her mother.

      The duchess nodded. “Well, dear Lillian, the wedding of a future duke takes precedence over some things. The acceptances to the wedding and the supper following have been pouring in. Evidently most of the ton does not think it in poor taste to continue with one’s obligations. There may be a somber tone and a surfeit of drab colors, but there will be a large attendance.”

      “I suppose there will be time to mourn the poor queen afterward,” Mama allowed with a conciliatory smile.

      Olney’s mother, always conscious of being a duchess and superior in all ways to her son’s future in-laws, sniffed impatiently. “Mrs. O’Rourke, it is unlikely that any but commoners will truly mourn Caroline for long.”

      Lilly stiffened. The duchess could not have been clearer in her meaning. Mama was a commoner—one of the unwashed masses who would mourn the queen.

      As if sensing her rising protest, Olney’s hand squeezed her shoulder, warning her to silence. “Yes, yes, Mother. But can we not talk of something else? That topic is growing old,” he said.

      Lilly sighed gratefully for Olney’s attempt to defuse the situation and glanced at her mother, praying she would let the comment pass. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

      Mama drew a deep breath. “If you cannot mourn the queen, surely you can respect the dignity of her station.”

      The duchess’s mouth worked but no sound issued forth. Mama had rendered the woman speechless! Oh, dear Lord! She glanced up at Olney again, hoping he would smooth things over, or at least change the subject, but the duke returned from his brandy in the library and provided the needed distraction.

      “Rutherford, come join our little group,” the duchess said, still flushed from Mama’s impertinence. “You will never guess. Mrs. O’Rourke is a Queenite. Is that not amusing?”

      Lilly shot a glance at her mother to see a deep crimson flush her cheeks. If something were not done quickly, disaster would ensue. What if Olney’s parents withdrew their approval of the marriage? Olney had already told her that they were less than pleased. Still, to insult her mother by suggesting that she supported the scandalous queen! Insult? No, humiliate. She started to rise, but again Olney’s comforting hand on her shoulder held her back.

      The Duke of Rutherford took a seat next to the duchess and looked down his long aristocratic nose at her mother. “Is that so? Well, I pray you have enough good sense to keep your opinions to yourself, madam. Yours is not a sentiment common in our circle.”

      “I believe your wife misunderstood my mother, your grace. She is not a Queenite.”

      “Hmm,” was his only comment to that. “Well, the queen’s body has left English soil to return her to Brunswick today, and we are well quit of her. She has proved to be as much trouble dead as she was alive. Such disgraceful goings-on! And now…well, the timing of her death is damned inconvenient.”

      Good heavens. Was the duke so arrogant that he suspected the queen of choosing a date to die that would inconvenience him? Olney cleared his throat and turned the conversation to the impending wedding. Lilly merely sat with a stiff back and allowed the chatter to wash over her as she studied the duke and his duchess.

      Graying, and heavy through the bosom, the duchess was also possessed of a pinched mouth for pursing in disapproval. Apart from that, she was fairly unremarkable. It was the duke who really interested her. Dark hair with silver-gray streaks lent him distinction, cold blue eyes regarded all around him with suspicion and superiority, and a rod-stiff posture made him look as if he’d been carved from stone.

      Still, there was something vaguely appealing about him. Perhaps the part Olney had inherited. Yes, the similarity was in the looks, not the bearing. Thank heavens! Then Olney would age well and she prayed her influence would save him from the insufferable arrogance displayed by his parents.

      “Are we to be treated to the presence of your sister, Miss Eugenia, at the wedding? I must say that I find her absence to be unseemly.” The duchess put her teacup down on the low table. “Why, any ordinary girl would be indulging in the rare opportunity to shine in society. What illness keeps her at home?”

      “She took a bit of a spill not long ago,” her mother answered for Lilly. “She knocked her head and has headaches since. Our physician says they will improve given time. And she has promised to stand up with Lilly on her wedding day.”

      “Then we shall not meet her until then?”

      “There is only tomorrow,” Lilly interjected, praying that was so, and that they would not call off the wedding now that they knew how “unsuitable” the common O’Rourkes were. “I shall be needing her to assist me in preparing to remove to Olney’s apartments here.” In truth, she did not need her sister’s help; she only wanted to spare her the duchess’s scrutiny and judgment.

      At the moment, she only wanted to end the uncomfortable situation and the possibility of further disaster. Alas, the duchess had one last reminder of the O’Rourke’s unsuitability.

      “Well.” She sighed deeply as she put her cup down. “Rutherford and I are just relieved Edward has finally proposed to someone. We began to despair of ever seeing grandchildren.”

      “Though we could have wished for someone…”

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