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"He is a nobleman who has spent thirteen years in expedition camps," Verity observed mildly. "He likely considers clean linen the height of sartorial elegance."
"Then Adelaide shall refine his tastes," Charlotte declared smoothly, "beginning with this dress."
A shared laugh lightened the atmosphere in the bedchamber, bringing a warmth Adelaide had not anticipated. Having prepared herself for a quiet, solitary morning, the presence and affection of her female relatives felt like an unexpected blessing.
A sharp, formal knock sounded at the door.
The light conversation ceased immediately. Charlotte stilled her hands, while Octavia stepped back with sudden decorum as the knock signaled that the hour had arrived.
The door opened to reveal Lady Beatrice, erect and dignified in a dress of muted gray silk suitable for a morning wedding. Her sharp gaze swept the bedchamber, taking in the scattered pins, the discarded gloves, and the remaining floral sprigs.
"Everything is arranged," Lady Beatrice announced formally, "and we must not be late."
She stepped into the room, and the young cousins parted respectfully to allow her passage. Adelaide straightened her posture naturally at her aunt's approach.
Lady Beatrice studied her niece intently. For a fleeting moment, her severe expression softened, revealing a quiet awareness of the years Adelaide had spent managing Ashwood Manor while others attended the London Season.
"You look exceptionally lovely, Adelaide," Lady Beatrice said, her tone holding a rare, genuine sincerity.
The unexpected compliment touched Adelaide deeply. "Thank you, Aunt Beatrice."
Lady Beatrice offered a decisive nod. "The carriages wait below. We must depart."
Their descent down the grand staircase proceeded with a soft rustle of blue silk. As Adelaide reached the lower landing, Lucien Ashbourne—the charming second son of the late viscount—stepped forward from the hallway shadows, offering a polished bow. His dark coat was impeccably tailored and his cravat tied with meticulous care.
"Adelaide," Lucien said, taking her gloved hand and pressing a brief, formal kiss to her knuckles. "My warmest wishes, cousin. You deserve a duke who appreciates your intellect. Should he ever fail to treat you with proper regard, I shall challenge him to a duel using heavy botanical folios."
Adelaide laughed softly. "That is an absurd threat, Lucien."
"I intended it as a solemn vow," Lucien replied with a warm smile, stepping back. "Proceed, then, before Cassian grows impatient."
The carriages waited along the drive, the horses shifting against their harnesses in the cool air. Adelaide stepped inside the first vehicle alongside Charlotte and her cousins, while Lady Beatrice followed in the second. The coach door shut, the driver signaled the team, and the carriage lurched forward.
The drive through Mayfair proved brief. Adelaide gazed out the window at the passing London streetscapes, observing the morning shopkeepers and pedestrians going about their daily routines, oblivious to the quiet transformation of her life. She traced the seam of her kidskin glove to steady her pulse.
The carriage slowed, then came to a complete halt well before reaching the church steps.
Elowen leaned toward the window, her eyes widening in surprise. "What is happening outside?"
Adelaide leaned across her cousin to look out. The broad street before the Mayfair parish church was densely packed with spectators. Hundreds of Londoners lined the cobblestones, spilling off the sidewalks and pressing against the iron railings—a vast crowd of top hats, bonnets, and curious onlookers drawn by the sudden news.
Charlotte peered over Adelaide's shoulder, releasing a quiet breath of surprise.
"The news has spread across town," Charlotte observed quietly. "The celebrated Duke of Ravensmere marrying an unmarried gentlewoman who has lived quietly in Kent—it is an irresistible sensation. The ton has arrived to witness the arrival."
Adelaide felt a sudden, sharp wave of anxiety take hold. She had anticipated a quiet, private ceremony made possible by the special license, not a grand public spectacle before half of London.
The carriage door opened to reveal Cassian, flanked by several gentlemen who worked to clear a path through the pressing crowd. Excited chatter rose from the spectators as the crowd parted reluctantly.
Adelaide sat still.
"Come, Adelaide," Lady Beatrice instructed, stepping out from the second carriage with quiet authority. "The duke waits inside."
Verity stood at her right side, while Elowen and Octavia gathered close behind. Charlotte took her elbow, offering a firm, supportive grip.
"Keep your chin up," Charlotte murmured softly. "You are entering as the Duchess of Ravensmere. They stare because you have accomplished what every ambitious family in town failed to achieve."
Adelaide drew a deep breath, allowing her relatives to guide her forward. The glass beads on her dress caught the morning light, while the white orange blossoms rested lightly in her hair.
