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‘What do I care for where you are born? It is who you are that matters! What bothers me about this world is the stock people put in such things as position. My father was the same.’
Over a drink and a rather stilted game of cards, Simon had told her of the difficult relationship he’d had with his father. How the last Earl of Gloucester had quite looked down on anyone who was not a part of the ton. Simon had rebelled and practically cut himself off from his father in his later years.
Simon never regretted it. Before his father had passed, they had talked, but Simon knew they would never see eye to eye on such matters. Simon saw the good in everyone and saw more nobility in the action of a miner working long hours to feed his family, than he saw in a lazy politician who fell asleep in the House of Commons, purporting to do good for the country.
“Simon is different to other gentlemen of the ton, Father,” Rosaline explained to Alfred. “He loves me, and I love him. We will be happy together; I promise you that.”
“Then I wish you every ounce of luck I can.” Alfred allowed himself his first full smile. “I hope the ton will accept you with open arms, and will not be…”
“Be what?” Rosaline asked, prompting her father on.
“No. We have had enough doom and gloom today,” Alfred shook his head, refusing to go on. “Today is a day of celebration, so let us get to it. Here, I made you something. I know Lady Felton was to make your gown, but I have something special for you.” He turned away, delving a hand into a leather satchel in search of something.
Rosaline smiled to hear Chloe’s new title used. It had not been long since Chloe had married herself. She had married the Duchess of Suffolk’s brother, Lord Felton, in a very happy ceremony indeed.
“Here you go,” Alfred said, turning back and presenting a gift to her. Wrapped up in tissue paper, Rosaline took the bundle excitedly, unwrapping it in a hurry. “You’ve always had the same look with presents. Even as a child, those amber eyes of yours went wide. I imagine any child of yours will be just the same.”
“Ha! You’re jumping ahead a bit.” Rosaline giggled as she pulled at the last bit of tissue paper, tugging it away.
When the cream silk fell before her, Rosaline smiled. It was a perfect match for her wedding gown, right down to tiny roses that were sewn into the hem. Unfurling it completely, Rosaline found it was a shawl, handmade by her father.
“You talked to Chloe about the design, did you not?” Rosaline asked, her eyes lighting up.
“I did.” Alfred nodded. “Lady Felton is a good woman. She has forgiven my…” He struggled to speak. It was still a sore spot between Rosaline and her father every now and then, the way that he had attempted to destroy Chloe’s business when it had first begun, but he had done much to make up for it since. “Well, anyway. She was kind enough to show me the design in advance, so I could make you this to go with it.”
“Thank you, Father. It is quite beautiful.” She stood on her toes and kissed her father on the cheek.
“There. Quite perfect, and ready to be wed.” Alfred encouraged her toward the door of the chamber, just as two excited knocks came from on the other side.
Rosaline smiled the closer she got to the door, listening to the voices beyond.
“She’ll be late!” the Duchess of Suffolk was panicking.
“And where is Lord Gloucester going to? He’ll wait at the church like a lapdog would its owner,” Chloe said with her usual wit. “Trust me, Lord Gloucester is not going anywhere.”
“I know that,” the Duchess continued on.
Rosaline opened the door, greeting her friends who both smiled wider when they saw her gown.
“Rosaline, my dear,” the Duchess gushed, her smile wide. “You look quite stunning.”
“You are too kind to me, your Grace,” Rosaline hurried to say.
“Indeed, she is not,” Chloe stepped forward, opening the door wider. “She speaks the truth. She also speaks the truth that we may be a little late. So, come on, it is time to get you and your father to the church.”
Rosaline looked back to Alfred one last time. She could see the nerves there. They were apparent in the way the muscles around his eyes had tensed, but then everything softened, and he smiled, assuring her all was well.
Rosaline threaded the shawl around her shoulders and held onto the bouquet tightly, allowing her friends to lead her through the apartment and head downstairs toward the door. She had been invited to stay the night before the wedding at Chloe’s apartments. Once the wedding was complete, she was to return to the house that would soon be her own, the one that she would share with Simon, for their wedding breakfast.
When they reached the door, Chloe fussed with the shawl, pulling it tighter around Rosaline’s shoulders.
“The autumnal breeze is here today,” she said in a hurry. “For so long summer seems to have staved off winter, but it is here at last!”
“Today of all days too,” the Duchess declared with a smile. “If only we’d had one more day of sunshine.”
“Is the sun not out?” Rosaline asked.
Chloe and the Duchess exchanged a nervous look before Chloe nodded to her butler.
