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Drake understood he wouldn’t be able to stop the malice that would inevitably raid through his peers. And he’d do everything to shield his future wife and child from it, starting with his venerable mother.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she said with a hint of despair in her voice.
After he’d scribbled on the parchment and folded it, his eyes arrowed to her. “You’re so fond of aristocracy’s infallible rules, aren’t you?” He rang for Wakefield. “This is the aristocratic male power over the women in our ranks. Since you show fondness for it, abide by it!”
Naturally, she’d been provided for by her late husband. But the settlement was enough for a comfortable life in the country, not a house, servants and allowance in London. The latter, Drake provided out of respect for her.
In came Wakefield. “My lord,” and bowed.
“Please, have this sent to my solicitor.” And extended the letter to the other man. “And accompany Lady Worcester on her way out, will you?”
“Certainly, Lord Worcester.” And moved to allow the lady to walk past him.
"If you think by shutting me up, you're silencing the others, you're sorely mistaken," Honora said.
"No, but you're the closest and loudest by far," Worcester answered. "Goodbye, mother."
Without an option, she turned and strode woodenly out.
The carriage lurched to a stop, causing Hester to wake up from where she slept leaning on Drake’s shoulder.
“We’re here.” He said as he stepped down to help her.
They decided to spend a few days in the Worcester Seat in Hampshire after the wedding.
Their tying of the knot had been a simple affair. They only invited their closest friends and Titus stood as the groom's best man. Hester felt happy for Amelia accepting to be her maid of honour. Miss Bolton expressed utter delight at being called to do so.
Hester counted herself lucky for being free of stomach unease as the wedding breakfast offered by Mrs Darroch was delicious. Otilia had said that eating small pieces of dried bread helped with the unease. Hester did that with positive results.
Drake and Hester would spend a few days here as Oliver had called for a recess of the play. The news of their wedding had astonished her father when Drake came to ask for her hand. Ely expressed the same reservations Hester had, promptly reassured by Drake.
But Hester and Drake didn’t break the news of the child as yet, agreeing to wait for a few weeks to do so.
Hester looked up at the Georgian portico. They hadn’t been here for some time because of her work and then her decision to end their liaison. Which had led her to believe she’d not travel here again. With a sigh, she realised she’d missed the country and the greenhouse she’d refurbished.
Drake came to her and lifted her in his arms, eliciting a yelp from her. “Come, Lady Worcester, let’s do this in style.”
His uttering of her new title caused her to swallow grit as colour leeched from her cheeks. But the butler was already opening the door, and Drake took her through it.
“Thanks, Brown,” he said and set her on the first step of the stairs that led to the second floor. “Please, gather the servants,” he continued. “We have an announcement.”
Five minutes later, Drake and Hester stood on the step as the servants lined on the hallway.
“Allow me to present Hester Aldridge, my wife, the new Marchioness of Worcester.”
The servants were familiar with her, and she’d befriended more than a few of them
as she brought the greenhouse back to life. At that moment, every single one of them held a dumbfounded expression on their faces. She’d been the actress-mistress, the ‘upstairs’ servant with specific tasks. And now, she’d become the Mistress of the Manor. Even commoners grew up with the social set ingrained in them. Their surprise was understandable as social mobility wasn’t a concept royalist England praised.
"Welcome to the Worcester Seat, my lady." They murmured despite the sudden news. Well, the king is dead; god save the king, she thought rather acidly. They'd slotted her in the box marked 'marchioness' and would treat her accordingly.
With a grateful smile, she thanked them as Drake took her hand to lead her up. “We’ll be taking dinner in the small dining room, Brown.” Drake ordained after everyone congratulated him.
“Very well, my lord.” And directed his gaze to her. “My lady.” And bowed.
In the bedchamber they’d spent so many a night, Drake was taking off his dusty coat. Hester sat on the chest placed in front of the bed.
“Perhaps we should hire a governess to walk me through this nobility thing.” She started.
