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While Darcy was most willing to provide Finn’s services to forward family felicity, he had objections about this being done immediately, having pictured some precious time alone with Lizzy before he must dress to attend the reception. When he drew Elizabeth down onto his lap to kiss her, he managed to distract her sufficiently that Jane was temporarily forgotten.

The wedding of Princess Brunhilda von Wolfbach into the Fitzwilliam clan at St George’s, Hanover Square, was the event of the season. The ceremony, which might have been graced by only the excessively curious—Robert not being particularly popular—was attended by several regiments and the bulk of the Ton. It seemed that despite the rather modest attendance at the engagement party, news of the substituted bridegroom had somehow got round.

The morning was filled with all the bustle and chaos of a big production. The wedding ring was lost. The wedding ring was found. A maid trod on Hildie’s veil and tore it, resulting in a hasty repair by the despairing modiste. Fortunately, the embroidery already present on the net disguised the rent. Richard had his first surprise of the day when his father presented him with a pair of specially made boots at breakfast. His parent was not generally solicitous with presents; in fact, the last thing Richard could remember being given was his pair of colours. Enlightenment dawned when he saw the heels.

“Dammit! I’m not wearing high heels like King Louis! My wife is taller than me. Get over it!”

Given the unusual trouble he had taken, the earl was seriously offended by his son’s rebuff. Fortunately the countess walked in at this crucial moment and poured oil on the waters. By exclaiming at the fine workmanship of the boots made by Hoby on Richard’s last, she soothed the earl’s hurt feelings and then managed to persuade her reluctant son to wear the boots to the ceremony.

The church in Hanover Square was filled to capacity when the Austrian ambassador escorted the bride down the aisle, treading upon the rose petals strewn by enthusiastic flower girls, the daughters of two dukes and a Marquess. There was much amusement when the couple knelt at the altar. Not only did the height advantage of Richard’s heels disappear once he knelt on the cushions beside his bride, he had wrongheadedly attempted to disguise the offending heels by fitting his spurs to his boots. In his vain effort to avoid the teasing of his friends, Richard had only further ensured it.

“Who wear spurs to a wedding?” exclaimed Lady Catherine loudly, just as the organ stopped and the rector raised his hands for silence.

Her words echoed round the apse, causing a few hastily stifled giggles and guffaws.

Despite this inauspicious start, all was well when Hildie turned to Richard with a smirk on her face so that he might put back her veil to say her vows. Her eyes were shining so brightly with love that Richard forgot all else and repeated his part flawlessly. The ring was slid onto Hildie’s large but well-formed white hand. A chaste kiss was exchanged to the loud cheers of the rowdier elements of the congregation, mostly military men. An avenue of raised swords greeted them as they emerged from the nave, and a few huzzahs wished them well as they climbed into the open landau for the short journey back to the townhouse for the reception.

“Well,” said Hildie to her husband as she settled back into the squabs, “to be married at St George’s is quite appropriate.”

“How so?” said Richard, taking Hildie’s gloved hand and seating himself beside her.

“Saint George is England’s patron saint, is he not? The saint chosen by Richard the Lionheart?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he do?”

“He killed the dragon,” responded Richard uncertainly, wondering where this was going.

“But why?” urged Hildie, squeezing Richard’s hand with her own.

“To save the princess...,” said Richard, and the penny dropped.

Hildie leaned over to peck him on the cheek. “Thank you, my Richard.”

Several more cheers broke out at this sign of wifely affection. Turning to the crowd, the married couple beamed and waved as the coach departed, followed by many men in uniform who intended to walk to the reception in Grosvenor Square.

As Jane rose from her seat beside Georgie to follow the wedding party down the aisle, she saw the Garths seated among the congregation and exchanged nods with Cherise and her parents. As they settled themselves in the Darcy carriage, she wondered aloud at their presence to Georgie, asking if the Garths were friends of Lord and Lady Matlock.

“No,” replied Georgie, “but I believe I heard Richard say to my brother that Uncle had invited all his bankers as a goodwill gesture. “Lady Jersey and the Barings were sitting next to them.”

Thus, Jane was not surprised when her charge approached her at the reception, having managed to escape temporarily from the company of her parents. After exchanging some pleasantries, Miss Garth took a step closer to Jane to indicate she wished to speak privately to her. As Georgie was conversing with two bold captains who were vying for the heiress’s attention, Jane and Cherise removed themselves to a nearby alcove behind a potted plant.

“Oh, Jane!” Cherise started. “Can you guess why Miss Fairfax is not with me?”

Having assumed that Miss Fairfax had merely not been needed, Jane’s mind immediately leapt to disaster. “Goodness, Cherise, tell me she has not broken her leg again?” she asked in alarm.

“Oh, no!” said Cherise, eager to impart her information. “The most extraordinary thing happened last night after the opera. Can you not guess? Mr Churchill was waiting in the street when we arrived home. When Frederick opened the gate for the carriage, he tried to run into the yard after us.

“Well! Frederick wasn’t about to let that happen, but when he detained him, Mr Churchill began yelling Jane’s name. I wondered perhaps if he might be drunk. When Frederick tried to bustle him out of the yard, Mr Churchill threw a punch at him. I thought we were going to see a mill in front of our very eyes because I have seen Frederick give short shrift to some drunkards who bothered us in the past. Frederick came back with a stunning blow and knocked Mr Churchill to the ground, which was a bit disappointing, because I had hoped he would put up a better fight! But Mr Churchill got up and after staggering about a bit while Frederick told him to remove himself, he attempted to land another blow on Frederick.

“Miss Fairfax was in a fever of trepidation, knowing that if she laid claim to his acquaintance she would be dismissed. I tried to catch her eye, to plead with her not to intervene, but it was too much for her to watch. Before Frederick could land another blow, she ran towards them, asking him to stop. When she reached Mr Churchill, he threw his arms around her, clasping her and rocking her from side to side.

“My mother was furious at the impropriety of it all. After telling me to take myself off inside, she looked at my father and they advanced toward them. Well, I made as if to comply, but as soon as I got to the other side of the carriage, I crept round to the back to watch.

“Before mother had a chance to say anything, Mr Churchill released Jane and swept a deep bow to my parents, apologising for his unseemly conduct and saying he had been waiting patiently for Jane to return, knowing only she had gone out for the evening. He had a Special Licence and wished to marry Jane immediately!

“Mother demanded to know who he was. Whatever he said in reply seemed to satisfy her, for she told Frederick to close the gate and invited Mr Churchill in for tea. Well, you can imagine my trepidation. I hung around in the hallway, hoping that I might have tea too, but my father moved me on. I had to go up to bed without knowing the outcome. It was ever so vexing. I could not sleep!