Her father pulled her into a warm hug. “As far as our family is concerned, you have nothing to answer for. Though, when the time comes, I would ask something of you.”
“Yes?”
“You are not allowed to run off to Scotland like your sister did. Your mother deserves to have one of her daughters married in the proper fashion. If you do marry Lord Newhall, it will have to be a full wedding service at St. Paul’s, with your Uncle Hugh officiating.”
Her father’s stipulation would be easy to meet. Julian was far from the rash and impetuous Freddie Rosemount, who her sister had recently married. There was little chance of him suddenly spiriting her away to Gretna Green.
“Yes of course. I know how much a society wedding and ball means to Mama. I promise not to disappoint her,” she replied.
“Excellent. So, when Lord Newhall next comes to pay a house call with Lady Margaret, I shall wait until you ladies are busy discussing the lateston ditbefore arriving to rescue him. A shipment of wine arrived from France this morning, and I have a few cases of Cabernet Sauvignon from Chateau Mouton-d’Armailhac. Will and Francis may just happen to fortuitously drop by and share a bottle or two with us.”
She kissed her father on the cheek, grateful for such a wonderful parent. An afternoon of bonding between Julian and the Saunders men was the seal of approval for which she had hoped.
The man she loved was being drawn into the embrace of her wonderful, big, family, and her heart felt fit to burst.
