Thankfully, Cressida felt no such compunction and said, “If by adjustment you mean he is quite possibly the most boring holy man on God’s green Earth, then I would have to agree.”
“I do not think I haveeverheard a service take so long nor be delivered in quite such a dry way. Please, tell me that he is not the one who will be marrying you?” Jane clutched at her friend’s hand, her eyes wide with alarm.
She could not imagine how tedious it would be to go through a full wedding ceremony with a man who seemed to suck the joy out of a room simply by being there. He spoke in a dull monotone that reminded Jane of the buzzing of angry wasps, and seemed to take an age to get out every word.
“No, thankfully, Mr. Wolsley is only the Deacon.” Cressida smiled. “Father Tibley is far more animated and several decades younger. He is the one who will marry us.”
“Oh good.” Jane breathed a sigh of relief and prayed that Father Tibley would be up to the task of giving Cressida the ceremony she deserved.
“But that does not explain why you are in the library.” Cressida frowned at Jane.
“Well… I thought I might try and sneak in a book to help pass the time.” Jane felt her cheeks redden as she said it, speaking so quietly that she almost could not hear herself.
Would Cressida be furious?
“Jane! Who knew you had such a rebellious streak!” Cressida laughed.
“I know it is hardly proper.” Jane shifted from foot to foot, relieved at her friend’s reaction.
“No, it is not,” Cressida agreed. But then she added thoughtfully, “Though, in truth, I cannot begrudge a little impropriety here and there. And if I am to be very honest, I fear that without an appropriate distraction, you may well die of boredom.”
“I have the very same fear.” Jane smiled.
“What did you plan on reading? A philosophy book?” Cressida indicted several of the titles behind Jane. “Or perhaps a novel? A travel journal?”
Jane glanced at the shelf and the collection of titles before looking back at Cressida. “I need something that will fit into this.”
She held up her creation. It was a small leather pouch that, at first glance, looked like the binding on a book of hymns. She was rather proud of her creation, and it had taken her some months to perfect the design.
Jane rubbed a hand over the fake book cover affectionately. “I made this some years ago, and it is designed to disguise the actual binding of a book.”
“And so the plot thickens! And what scandalous books were you trying to hide from prying eyes?” Cressida teased.
“Nothing scandalous, I swear. More books my mother was unlikely to approve of me reading.” Jane did not want Cressida to think she was reading anything immoral or too scandalous. “The occasional novel, poetry, more in-depth political treatises.”
“The sort of thing that might not be seen as entirely ladylike you mean?” Cressida’s eyes twinkled.
“Exactly.” Jane beamed.
Cressida tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. “Very clever. Though you hardly let your mother’s approval stop you, not if you really wanted something.”
“No, or rather I try not to.” Jane glanced at her feet.I am not always so good at living without Mother’s approval.“But this made it rather easier to read without being disturbed by her lectures.”
“I can see the appeal. Well, I am sure we can find something that will fit into your nifty invention. Perhaps I should have you make me one as a wedding present.”
“And are you planning on reading much that might require hiding?”
“Not really, but it strikes me as the kind of thing one might like to have and never have need of, rather than have need of it and not have it.”
“There is some truth in that. I am sure I could fashion you something, though it may have to wait until after your wedding. Unless I can find the suitable materials here.”
“You have that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“The look you get when you are about to start a particularly exciting project or adventure.”
“Oh, I did not realize I had a ‘look’.”
