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Leticia felt a fine layer of perspiration coat her upper lip, and she licked at it, willing her racing heart to slow. All the other wedding guests around her giggled, and she knew she was making a fool of herself. “I only meant to say—” she started, but again, nothing came to mind. It was as if all those years of speaking exactly what popped to the forefront had been for naught as now, her better senses deserted her, and she was left speechless.
“You’re in love with him,” Uncle Sebastian whispered dramatically, giving her hip a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Tell him you love him.”
“Right,” Leticia said, nodding enthusiastically at such a suggestion. “I’m madly in love with him.” The whole room erupted then as some people laughed wildly while others guffawed loudly. Almost everyone began whispering at once, and when she spoke next, she nearly had to shout. “So, you see, His Grace cannot marry another woman because I will not stand for it.”
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
“What did she just say?” Richard mumbled, turning away from the flurry of activity that was happening in the chapel and coming to face Harry. His best friend had been standing a few paces away, but now, Harry was right by his side, holding out a hand as if he meant to offer Richard more than moral support.
Harry shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, old friend. I fear Letty’s lost her mind.”
“Did she say she was in love with me?”
“Madly, it would seem,” Harry joked, “but I do believe she was fed those words by my father. Perhaps she joined him for a drink before the ceremony started.”
“Perhaps—” Richard murmured, and his head spun. He stood as still as he possibly could, and suddenly, it wasn’t just his head spinning. He felt as though the ground were quaking beneath him. He lifted a hand to his chest and ordered himself to take a deep breath.
“I—” he heard Leticia’s voice ring out once more, but her words were swallowed by the cacophony that rose around her. He turned though, at the sound of her voice, and watched as her aunt took her by the arm and began towing her out of the pew.
“Where’s she going?” Richard said, taking a step toward Leticia and Lady Pearl.
Harry held out his arm to stop Richard from going any further. “I’m sorry, old friend. I can’t say with any certainty what’s come over Letty. Maybe I should’ve let her talk to you yesterday during the lawn bowling, but I thought it best to let the situation run its course.”
“That’s right,” Richard said, turning to look at Harry now. “You did say Leticia had something pressing on her mind.”
“I take all the blame for this,” Harry added, shaking his head woefully. “I should’ve known better than to try and restrain Letty. Forgive me for letting her break up the wedding.”
Richard shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Please,” he heard Leticia’s voice once again float toward him, seeking him out through the din. “I just want to talk to Richard. Aunt Amelia—listen to me. I need to speak to him for a moment.”
He spun then to see that Lady Pearl had managed to get Leticia out of the pew but was having more trouble forcing her down the aisle as Leticia was planting her feet firmly and hanging onto the edge of the wooden pew with her free hand. The roses that had been clustered there as decoration were demolished underneath Leticia’s strong grip. Her words and behavior piqued his interest, and he took a step, preparing to descend the altar steps and go to her.
It must be important.
“Richard,” his mother, who had risen to let Amelia and Leticia out of the pew, spoke now. The Dowager stood shakily and smoothed down the folds of her skirts. She appeared weighted down, and momentarily, he forgot about Leticia and Lady Pearl, instead dashing down the steps and racing to his mother’s side. “Richard,” she breathed again, holding her hand out to him. “I think I’m going to—”
He reached her just in time to catch hold of her hand and save her from falling onto the floor as she fainted away. He maneuvered quickly, pushing his body up against the edge of the pew so he could hold up the Dowager. “I need a little help, please,” he said through gritted teeth.
Lord Pearl and Admiral Shelling clumsily rose then. “How may we be of assistance, Your Grace?” they said in unison, reminding Richard of how they might have addressed one of their superior naval officers when they were just young lads.
“I—” Richard looked down at his mother whose eyelashes were fluttering, and her breathing was shallow.
“Here,” Lord Pearl said, opening his jacket pocket and pulling out a small silver flask. “Give her a nip of that.”
Richard shook his head. “I can’t very well pry open her mouth. Does anyone have any smelling salts?” His mother was not usually prone to having nervous fits or fainting spells, so he was fairly certain she didn’t have any of them stuffed inside her own reticule, but as he’d known other ladies to do so, he figured there was as good a chance as any in asking after them now.
“Try this,” Admiral Shelling said, leaning across Lord Pearl and extending a cigar in his direction. “Potent smell…should do the trick.”
“But—” Richard began as he tried to shuffle his mother’s dead weight in his arms. She stirred slightly as he reached for the cigar. “Mother,” he whispered, “Do wake up now…please.”
The Dowager’s eyes popped open as though she were simply responding to her son’s plea. Her blue eyes, so much like his own, looked frightened, and he hugged her close, wishing he could protect her from all the chaos that was unfolding around them. “Thank goodness, you’re all right.” He very slowly and carefully used the hand underneath her shoulder blades to move her into an upright and standing position.
“I’ll be fine,” his mother croaked as though her throat were incredibly dry. “See to Leticia.”
“Lord Pearl…Admiral—” Richard began, but both men moved forward at once, gallantly coming to the aid of the Dowager. They bumped shoulders trying to step closer and gave each other scathing looks but restrained themselves from arguing any further.
“We’ll see to her,” Admiral Shelling promised.
