“Crafty old man.” Grace grinned. “I went in looking for something for Lord Worthington. I had almost selected a fob and the clerk said he had just the thing. I picked it up the next day.” She’d never bought a gentleman a gift before and was concerned that Matt wouldn’t like it.
“If you want my opinion, it was good thinking on his part.”
“Indeed.” Grace turned to the creation of Madame Lisette’s hanging on the door. “How do you like my gown?”
“It’s beautiful. The netting is just the right touch.”
Bolton took the towel. Grace donned her chemise and stays. “We’ll put this on you and cover it up while I dress your hair.”
She raised her arms, and the soft, cream-colored silk floated over her. The bodice was cut in a low V in both the front and back, decorated with a band of embroidered gold ribbon. The gown had a small demi-train. Next came a short overdress in pale gold netting dotted with seed pearls and layered sleeves extending to her elbows. Bolton helped her into a dressing gown and then styled Grace’s hair in a knot at the back of her head and secured with pearl combs. Her maid pulled out several tendrils allowing them to flow over Grace’s shoulders.
Placing a small hat made of silk and lace on her head, Bolton said, “The hatpin belongs to Lady Evesham for something borrowed, old and blue.”
A knock came on the door. “My lady, Lord and Lady Herndon and Lady Evesham are waiting.”
“Thank you, Royston. I’ll be right down.” Grace put on the earrings Worthington had sent, and Bolton clasped the necklace around her neck.
“I do look well, don’t I?”
“Yes, my lady, you do. Go now.”
Grace rose and surprised Bolton by giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Go on, out of here.”
Grace hurried out of the door, down the stairs, and strode into the drawing room. “I am ready.”
Uncle Bertrand grinned. “Then let us be off. The children left several minutes ago. They should have them sorted by the time we get there.” He took out his quizzing glass. “May I say you look beautiful? Are those the jewels Worthington gave you? Perfect.”
Her aunt’s eyes swam in tears as she carefully hugged her. “My dear. The parure your mother left you is still being cleaned and reset. It should be delivered later this afternoon. You are lovely.” A tear escaped her eye. “She would have been so happy to see you.”
“None of that, Almeria,” Uncle said gruffly. “We don’t want to get everyone weeping.”
Dabbing her eyes with the corner of her handkerchief, she smiled mistily. “Yes, my dear, of course, you’re right.”
“You have the hatpin?” Phoebe asked.
“Yes”—Grace’s heart swelled with happiness—“Thank you for thinking of it.”
“You’re very welcome,” Phoebe said. “Ladies, we should be going. We don’t want the gentleman to think you’ve run off.”
* * *
Matt stood chatting with Marcus, Rutherford, and Anna. At a noise from the other end of the transept, he turned. Grace entered with her aunt and uncle and Phoebe. After giving her cloak to a footman, Grace turned and smiled. His heart quickened and his throat contracted. He’d be lucky if he could say his vows. She was the most beautiful woman he knew, and she washis.
Grace floated toward him, and he held out his hand, unable to take his eyes off her. He thanked God and the Fates that he’d found her. There was no other woman he wanted to spend his life with. She was gazing in his eyes and smiling back at him.
“Shall we begin?” the vicar said.
From the corner of his eye, Worthington could see the very young cleric grin.
Lady Herndon took a place with Patience and the children. They all sat quietly and were smiling expectantly. Charlie, Louisa, and Charlotte were spaced out among the younger ones.
Glancing at Grace, Matt asked, “Are you ready, my love?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Yes, well then, let us begin. Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God . . .”
