Page 68 of Indecently Daring

Cat grinned at her before turning to Aggie and offering her the hat. Aggie held up her hands in a defensive gesture and shook her head.

“No. No, I won’t, thank you. I have no intention of getting myself in a silly fix. Papa would murder me.”

“Oh, Aggie!” Cat exclaimed in frustration. “After the scandal he caused? I think not. Besides, you must do it. You’re a Daring Daughter too.”

Aggie shrugged. “I don’t care. I’m not taking one.”

“Yet,” Cat predicted darkly before turning to Emmeline. “Come on, then, Em. If Aggie is going to let me down, it’s your turn.”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to. I don’t really… I mean, I don’t know if….” Emmeline stared at the hat in dismay and then took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I may as well in the circumstances,” she said, with an oddly resigned note to her voice and a wry smile.

Alana wondered what circumstances she was referring to, but didn’t like to ask.

They watched as Emmeline plucked out a dare and unfolded it, the colour draining from her face as she read.

“Oh, my,” she said faintly.

14th February 1845, Holbrook House, Sussex.

Cat reached for Aggie’s hand as they watched Alana repeat her vows to Reverend Martin. Aggie sighed and handed Cat a handkerchief.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s just so terribly romantic,” Cat said, sniffing and dabbing at her eyes.

Aggie smiled. “Yes, it is. They look happy, don’t they?”

“Blissful,” Cat agreed. “Lucky girl.”

“Your turn will come, Cat, but you must be patient. You’re barely eighteen, not eighty. If only you weren’t always in such a hurry,” Aggie whispered.

Cat shrugged. “But I feel like I must, like something is always pushing at me. Don’t you ever feel that way? Like life is passing you by and you must grab hold of it with both hands and just let it take you where it will.”

Aggie returned a blank look and Cat sighed.

“Just me, then.”

“Shh.”

They both turned to glare at Fred, who was sitting beside Aggie and scowling at them. “Stop chattering.”

“We’re not chattering,” Aggie objected. “We aren’t monkeys.”

Fred muttered a scathing remark, so Aggie elbowed him. Judging from the sound he made, she had sharp elbows. He rubbed his ribs and glowered at her, but said nothing more. Satisfied, Aggie returned her attention to the wedding.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The elderly Reverend Bidewell looked about ready to burst with pride as Reverend Martin leaned in and kissed Alana. She turned a very becoming shade of pink, and then scandalised everyone who didn’t know her by grabbing hold of Harry’s coat and pulling him back, not letting him go until he kissed her again. When she finally released him, Harry, too, was pink, but looking rather pleased with himself.

“Is that Harry’s father?” Aggie hissed, gesturing to a thin-faced, taciturn man sitting in the front row on the opposite side of the church.

Cat pulled a face and nodded. “Papa says he’s an old nip cheese, can’t bear to put his hand in his pocket. She said Harry’s not seen him in years, but the moment he heard his son was marrying an heiress, out he came from the woodwork.”

“And back he’ll go, if I know Alana,” Aggie said with a laugh.

Cat grinned and nodded. “Thank heavens he’s not staying for the ball.”

Alana sighed happily as she looked at Harry.

“What?” he asked, holding a spoonful of meringue suspended in the air before him.