Page 23 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“Only that it occur on the agreed date and that the ceremony not be delayed by unnecessary spectacle,” Augusta replied.

Temperance’s smile became thoughtful. “He’s likely nervous.”

“Oh, I don’t believe so. He does not appear nervous or frightened of anything,” Augusta said.

“No man appears so; they’re good at hiding it,” Prudence replied quietly. “Cassian once seemed entirely certain of himself, and I believed that nothing I said could unsettle him, but I later learned that his certainty was often for show.”

Augusta looked toward her. “How did you learn the difference?”

“Because he eventually trusted me enough to stop pretending,” Prudence said. “It did not happen quickly, and we made a great many mistakes before either of us understood how to get along with one another.”

Charity laid the green silk across the sofa and gave the seamstress permission to begin making notes. “Duncan was quite the opposite,” she said. “He rarely pretended that he was unaffected, although he did possess an extraordinary talent for deciding what was best for everyone.”

Augusta smiled. “He still does that.”

Temperance settled into the nearest chair. “Harper attempted to avoid arranging my life by refusing to admit that he wished to be part of it, which was equally infuriating in an entirely different direction.”

“And how did you resolve that?” Augusta asked.

“I persisted until he surrendered,” Temperance answered.

Prudence laughed softly while Charity turned her attention to the flower samples arranged near the windows.

“We have settled upon the gown, which is more progress than I expected before luncheon, so now we must decide upon the church decorations,” Charity said. “I thought white roses with greenery would be suitable, particularly since the ceremony is small.”

“White roses are elegant,” Prudence agreed, lifting one of the arrangements, “although they may appear too severe without another color among them.”

Temperance selected lavender. “This would soften them, and lavender signifies devotion, which might encourage the bride and groom.”

“Ronan and I have scarcely managed a civil conversation without one of us reminding the other of the worst day of our acquaintance.”

Charity ignored her and considered the arrangement. “Lavender with white roses would suit the pale green gown. It would give a calming appearance to the guests, as well.”

“I don’t want to think about the guests. Everyone will expect something to occur regardless,” Augusta said. “Half the guests will spend the ceremony waiting for another woman to stand and accuse him of a different crime.”

“Then perhaps the officiant should omit the question inviting objections.” Temperance smiled.

“Oh, then our marriage will not hold. So, it is a risk we have to take.”

The seamstress measured Augusta’s sleeve. Once the flowers had been settled and the decorations reduced to an amount Charity deemed tasteful, the conversation moved toward the wedding breakfast, the seating arrangements, and the number of guests who could be trusted not to repeat every private detail to the scandal sheets. Augusta listened for some time before a different concern, one she had been attempting to ignore since accepting Ronan’s proposal, finally became too pressing to leave unspoken.

“There is another matter upon which I require advice,” she said.

The three married women turned toward her. Augusta hesitated, suddenly aware that even the seamstress and her assistant had become attentive.

“Perhaps we can have a moment alone,” Charity suggested, recognizing something in Augusta’s expression.

Once the servants had withdrawn with the fabric, Augusta sat upon the sofa and folded her hands in her lap.

“I know very little about what is expected after the wedding,” she began. “I understand the public duties, the household arrangements, and even what will be required of me as a stepmother, but no one has explained what happens when Ronan and I retire for the night.”

Silence fell so completely that Augusta could hear the faint movement of a carriage beyond the windows. Temperance’s face brightened with unmistakable delight.

“At last,” she said, leaning forward. “A useful subject.”

Charity immediately placed one hand over her friend’s mouth. “You will not be the person who explains it,” she said.

Temperance pulled Charity’s hand away and replied, “You cannot invite me to assist with a wedding and then silence me when we reach the only part about which I possess enthusiasm.”