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Chapter Fifteen
Home, Safe and Sound
They left for England on a hot sunny day in a great caravan of coaches bearing their various family crests. Lockridge, Townsend, Augustine, but Marlow had no traveling coach for his bride. She traveled with her parents while he rode alongside with the other gentlemen.
He wished he had a sumptuous coach to put her in. He did, only it was back at his country property in Oxford, stored under burlap in a remote barn should he ever return to England from his foreign travels. He’d have it spruced up for her upon their return. He’d have everything spruced up.
He’d written a bevy of letters to the staffs of his country home and his town home, for there would be much to arrange on their arrival. He’d instructed his valet to find a properly trained lady’s maid for Rosalind and implored the butler of his country home, Maitland Glen, to renovate the chambers for the lady of the house. As he’d had no immediate plans to marry, they’d been left to collect dust far too long.
Now that their travel was organized and carried out by experienced grooms, they crossed the countryside much faster. It seemed they flew through France to Calais, where they were obliged to embark upon a steam ferry that would carry them past Dover into the port of London.
“It will be fine,” Marlow assured Rosalind. “The weather is fine today. The journey will take a matter of hours.”
Still, it was hard for both of them to step upon the gangplank and leave solid ground. “After this, I should never again wish to travel by sea,” said Rosalind, gripping his hand. “I’ll be content with England.”
“Of course, dearest. I feel the same.”
The coaches and luggage rode on a lower deck with the grooms. Most of the other passengers stayed above to look out over the water, watching France disappear and waiting for the cliffs of Dover to rise as they neared the English coast. The waters were blessedly smooth, though Rosalind did not release his hand until they’d sailed past Southend and entered the River Thames.
It was dusk by the time they finally debarked in London, near the same wharf where they’d started their journey. After bidding farewell to their travel companions, it was straight to his parents’ home in Grosvenor Square. They’d gotten word of his demise at sea even before the news reached Tuscany. He hoped they hadn’t suffered too much before his letter reached them. It was late to call on them, but there was no question of waiting until morning.
As it happened, the Earl and Countess of Warren were at dinner when the butler admitted them to the dining room. His mother dropped her soup spoon and gave a cry of relief to see him and Rosalind. Within a moment he and his new wife were clasped in her embrace, with his father standing by their side.
“You’re here and well,” his mother said with tears in her eyes. “I was afraid to hope even after I got your letter. I didn’t know what to believe.”
“We’re very well.” Marlow held her close to still her trembling. “It’s been an adventure but we’re home again.”
“Yes,” added Rosalind. “Home to stay. Forever.”
His mother released them and turned to his bride. “Dear Rosalind, how happy we were to learn you’ve joined our family. Both of you, come sit. Have you had dinner? Even so, you must dine again with us and tell us everything that’s happened. Spare no detail.”
Marlow and Rosalind told their story for what seemed the tenth time, taking turns, glossing over the most dangerous parts to spare his mother’s sensibilities. Though she’d grown up living a peripatetic life in India, she much preferred calm English living. Now, Marlow understood why.
“I can hardly believe all you’ve gone through,” his mother said. “And how strong you were to survive it.”
“Indeed,” said his father. “We must be grateful you’re still alive after such an adventure. I hope the two of you will attempt a quieter sort of lifestyle going forward, at least until your mother and I recuperate from this past month’s ups and downs.”
“A quieter lifestyle is our greatest hope at present,” said Marlow.
“You must write to Ella in France at once,” said his mother. “Your sister was beside herself when she thought you were lost at sea. I couldn’t bear to show you her letters. And we shall invite Dennis and Amelia and their families to luncheon tomorrow, for they’ll wish to hug and welcome their brother back to England themselves.”
His father nodded. “And you’ll likely have to relate your tale again.”
“We’ve told it a great many times,” said Marlow, glancing at Rosalind. “I don’t mind it, if it will keep the gossips from making up exaggerated tales about us.”
His mother thought a moment. “You know, we decided to cancel our end of season ball,” she said. “After we received…the news…” She shook the memories away, her green eyes filling only momentarily with tears. “But now I think we ought to proceed with planning again and send out invitations for a ball next week. However unconventional your betrothal and marriage were, you are wed now. We shall use a grand ball to celebrate publicly. If we present a united front with Rosalind’s family, I don’t see how anyone can dwell upon your unusual path to wedded bliss.”
“People will dwell upon it,” said Rosalind. “But if you think the ball will help, we’d be most grateful, Lady Warren.”
“You must call me ‘Mama’ now, as Dennis’s wife does,” said his mother warmly. “And I’m sure every invitation will be accepted, only so people can get a look at the two of you after your world travels.”
“You mean our scandalous travels,” said Marlow. “You’re saying that everyone will come to gawk.”
“That’s what a ball is for,” said his father. “An ostentatious display where everyone gawks at one another. You won’t be the only show,” he added, winking at them. “There are still a few couples needing to be paired up before everyone heads to the countryside. It’ll be fun to watch the proceedings, with all the desperate mamas mucking about.”
“Warren,” his mother chided. “Don’t be scandalous.”
“Our family has never been afraid of scandal,” he retorted, laughing. “I remember both of us turning heads in our day.”
