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Elise nodded, smiling at Alex as he picked up his wine to join his host in toasting their forthcoming nuptials. ‘I hope it will not rain,’ she blurted, holding her own cool goblet momentarily against a hot cheek to soothe it. She felt she might burst with excitement and happiness knowing in a few days time she would be Alex’s wife. Through the wavering tapers on the dining table his eyes caressed her and he tipped his glass, a small private salute just for her.
Colin Burnett glanced at Beatrice and, noticing her glass was almost empty, courteously poured her a small drink from the carafe. The couple then held their wine aloft to complete the circle of crystal reflecting flames from the candelabra.
‘To my daughter and her fiancé and wishing them every future happiness that is most richly deserved!’ Walter boomed, then swallowed a good amount of claret. ‘I believe we have some champagne in the cellar. I have been saving it for a special occasion. I will call for it to be brought up later—’
‘Perhaps we might have that on Friday, Papa,’ Elise interrupted quickly. Her eyes swerved to Alex, reading from his mild amusement that he could also tell her father was very tipsy. Walter had had a heafty appetite for his dinner, but, despite the amount of good food eaten, the alcohol seemed to have gone straight to his head as Mrs Francis had predicted it might.
‘I should like a taste of that champagne on our wedding day, sir, when I might appreciate it to the full,’ Alex tactfully said. ‘Tonight I must drive back to my lodgings in St Albans and arrive in one piece, you know. There are many more arrangements to make tomorrow.’
‘Yes...yes...I suppose so. It is a shame we are so cramped for space or you two gentlemen would be most welcome to overnight here and take a nightcap with me once the girls are tucked up in bed.’
‘That is kind, sir,’ Colin replied smoothly, taking up the task of dampening Mr Dewey’s eagerness to over-imbibe. ‘But I have to return home, too, as I have an urgent appointment with a patient first thing in the morning.’ He put down his glass and swung a smile between the newly betrothed couple. ‘I wish you good luck and a fine day at the church on Friday.’
‘Actually...I was wondering if you’d act as my groomsman?’ Alex asked.
‘I’d deem it an honour,’ Colin returned with a beam of surprise. ‘I’m not sure I have a suitable set of clothes.’
‘Neither do I.’ Alex grinned. ‘But I’m sure we’ll pass muster.’
‘I’m to be Elise’s bridesmaid,’ Beatrice announced, turning to Colin. ‘I’m wearing one of my new gowns that I had made in town.’
‘The one you have on is very becoming.’ Colin glanced at the taut pastel material rippling prettily over Beatrice’s pert bosom.
Beatrice dimpled at his warm admiration and to spare her further blushes Colin gallantly turned to his host to thank him for the fine dinner they’d just eaten.
Alex echoed that sentiment before draining the wine in his glass. ‘What will you wear sweetheart?’ he asked softly as his fingers found Elise’s under cover of the tablecloth.
‘I have a fine new dress, too, that Papa bought for me while we were staying at the Chapmans.’
‘The one you wore to the Clemences’ ball?’
‘Do you remember it?’ Elise asked, surprised.
‘Of course...it’s not white, it’s the colour of your eyes.’
‘I don’t care what people make of it, if you don’t.’ Elise chuckled, emboldened by the wine she’d drunk. The warm glow inside seemed to be as intoxicating as the smouldering dark gaze bathing her face.
‘If only we had the time I’d engage a dressmaker for you. When we return to London I’ll buy you everything your heart desires,’ he murmured with a hint of apology.
‘I have everything my heart desires,’ Elise whispered back, her soulful tawny gaze signalling that she didn’t give a jot for material possessions. Her small fingers turned within his cradling hand, tightened in emphasis. She hoped he understood she’d gladly take him as plain Mr Blackthorne and would live with him in a cottage in the countryside if it ever came to pass that that was all they could afford.
Aware that their papa had been quiet for some time, the sisters simultaneously turned their attention from their admirers to the head of the table. A snuffling sound confirmed their suspicions.
‘Oh...he has fallen asleep.’ Elise gasped a tiny giggle as she fondly surveyed her father. He was leaning back in his carver with his head lolling awkwardly on a shoulder. ‘I shall find Mr Francis and ask him to get Papa upstairs.’
