Page 77 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

Evie and Stella wore matching apricot silk dresses, each of them short sleeved and double skirted. Wreaths of roses and lilies adorned their hair, made to match the stunning bouquet that Anne had carried down the aisle.

Stella helped unfasten the tiny, satin-covered buttons on Anne’s bodice. She was grateful for something to do. Anything to take her mind off her own troubles.

The initial exultation she’d felt at leaving the vicarage forever—that potent fizz of possibility that had propelled her into Captain Blunt’s hired carriage—had gone flat within hours of departing Derbyshire. Now, Stella felt only a building apprehension at the reality of her situation. She had no home any longer. No family. It was a terrible thing. Even when one’s family was terrible themselves.

But she still had her friends. They were more precious to her than ever. She refused to let any of her cares spoil Anne’s special day.

“It was the sun shining through the stained glass in the Venetian window,” Stella said. “I believe it came out today just for you.”

Anne smiled. “I can’t take credit for the sunlight. We must chalk that up to the season. But I won’t argue with the sentiment. It was a magical day, wasn’t it?”

Stella smiled warmly at her friend in return. “Completely enchanting.”

Although the day had begun with showers, by the time Anne arrived at the church, the skies had cleared, culminating in a bright and wholly perfect spring day.

The first day of spring.

It was a fact that had been lingering at the back of Stella’s mind since she’d awakened to the sound of raindrops against the windowpanes in her elegantly appointed room at Brown’s Hotel. She had sent up a silent prayer for sunshine as she’d washed and dressed, knowing only too well that a downpour would put paid to any hope she had of meeting Teddy tomorrow.

He’d said he would be in Rotten Row waiting to meet her. There, on the rail, during the fashionable hour. The prospect of seeing him again had been one of the only things that had kept Stella from falling into despair after breaking with her brother. Teddy believed in her. Believed she was destined for great things.

Perchance it was only flattery designed to persuade her to sit for him. But Stella didn’t think so.

“It was the most beautiful ceremony I’ve ever witnessed,” Julia said. “Equally as moving as Evie’s wedding and my own.”

“High praise,” Anne said.

“And so passionate, too! Did you see the look on Lady Brookdale’s face when Mr. Hartford kissed you in the vestry?” Julia laughed merrily to recall it. “I thought I would need to lend her my smelling salts.”

Anne carefully stripped off her lace-covered bodice, with Evie’s help. She handed it to her maid, who promptly placed the delicate garment inside a shroud of tissue paper. “Hartford’s aunt is one of those ladies who believe embraces should be confined to the bedchamber,” she said. “And sometimes not even then.”

“How sad for her,” Julia said.

“Or for any lady who finds acts of affection unseemly,” Evie added. “If you love someone, there’s no part of marriage that need be a chore.” She smiled, adding wryly, “Except perhaps tending to the account books.”

Julia paused in folding the dainty, cerulean blue wedding handkerchief that Anne had kept tucked into her corset during the ceremony. “You tend to the household ledgers yourself?” she asked, curious.

“For both my husband’s shop and for our home,” Evie said. “I’ve a good head for numbers. I used to keep the accounts at home in Sussex, too, much as I disliked it.”

“You don’t like reconciling numbers?” Julia asked. “Even though you’re good at it?”

“Being good at something doesn’t mean you enjoy doing it,” Stella said. “I’m good at organizing my brother’s notes, but I despise playing secretary.”

“You needn’t do so any longer,” Julia said. “Not now that—”

Stella silenced her friend with a stern look. Both Julia and Evie had agreed not to tell Anne about Stella’s troubles until after her honeymoon. It was the only way to ensure Anne’s happiness. Stella knew that the moment Anne learned of her difficulties, she would be incapable of focusing on anything else. Anne had never yet met a problem she didn’t rush to solve—even to her own detriment.

“We’re all good at riding, however,” Evie interjected, coming to Stella’s rescue. “And that we do love, thank heaven.”

Anne affected a scolding air. “Don’t mention riding.” She removed her corset cover. “I’m furious with the three of you. To think, you’ve brought Hephaestus, Cossack, and Locket to town and shall be enjoying gallops in the park without me.”

“Furious, ha.” Julia helped fold away Anne’s garments as Anne discarded them. “You’ll be too busy enjoying your honeymoon in Venice to think about riding.”

“Or is it Rome?” Evie teased.

“Paris, I’d have thought,” Stella said, smiling. “Complete with romantic strolls along the Seine.”

Anne’s brown eyes glimmered with laughter. “I’ll never tell. But I shall write to you when I arrive there.”