“You’ve convinced me.” Giles frowned. “How do we keep him out of our way?”
Berwick leaned back in his chair and drank his wine. “Is he an early riser?” They all looked at each other with puzzled expressions. “Let us assume that he is. When he arrives, all of you will quickly retire. It’s best if he doesn’t see Kendal or question any of you. I’ll post two footmen at his door to escort him to my parlor for breakfast, or he can break his fast in his room. I’ll tell him the wedding is at eleven. I should be able to keep him occupied until shortly before then.” He glanced at Thalia. “I assume he plans to give you away?”
“He gave Laia away. I imagine he will expect to do the same for me.” Thalia did not care if her father was at the wedding, but she did want her mother. “Is there any way Mama can be there?”
“Yes,” Berwick said. “She will need to stay out of sight during the ceremony, but she will have enough time to return to her chamber before Somerset is abroad. I’ll put him in my wing.”
Tears pricked Thalia’s eyes. “I might never see her again after this.”
Giles took her in his arms. “My love, you will. I’ll make it happen.”
“I will as well,” Berwick said. “It’s no secret that I was Kendal’s guardian and think of him as a son. I’ll make clear to Somerset that I fooled all of you into thinking he’d given his consent but could not arrive for the wedding.”
“Maybe we should wait until I find a piece of land bordering his.” Giles kissed her temple. “Then he’d give permission.”
“It’s not possible,” Markville said. “I tried. He has encroached so much that most of his neighbors refuse to sell if he will own the land. I would have beggared the marquisate for her. Others know there is an opportunity to marry one of their children to one of his.”
Euphrosyne sat on Thalia’s other side, taking her hand. “Mama will find a way. Never doubt it. She was at my son’s christening, and she is here now.”
Giles held Thalia as if he’d never let go.
“I think there is something Meg should tell you.” Hawksworth said.
She folded her lips and glared at her husband. “It was not my grandmother and me who decided Somerset would offer Thalia to Berwick. It was your mother. She wrote to me and gave me the information.”
“Sweetheart.” Raising her chin, Giles kissed Thalia gently on her lips. “She wants you to be happy.”
Then to her great disgust, she broke into tears. This time they were happy ones. Something that all her female relatives understood but none of her male ones did. Finally, they stopped, and the love of her life called for champagne.
“First a toast to Thalia and Kendal!” Berwick lifted his glass. “May all your days be happy ones! Great health and every good blessing to you.”
“Hear, hear!”
She was looking forward to the rest of her life, and thrilled that her family was helping her find happiness.
“Thalia wants to know the story of the chapel,” Giles said.
Berwick cleared his throat. “As you might imagine, living where I do, there have been many times over the years when a Duke of Berwick-upon-Tweed married a Scottish lady.” He raised his brows. “Sometimes, the lady was not too happy about it. The tale of the chapel begins at the time when the Marquis of Huntly owned the land adjoining on the Scottish side and wanted to marry his eldest daughter to my ancestor. She declared she would be wed only in Scotland, and the duke declared that she would be wed on his estate, as every other Berwick-upon-Tweed bride had been. She managed to hold up the wedding with her demands, and her father got sick and tired of her delaying the wedding, and said he’d give up a strip of his land that marched along the dukedom’s land so that she could be married in Scotland. Upon the marriage, the land would be part of the dukedom, but that would be her only dowry. Gone were the riches she would have brought to the marriage. As the story goes, it was meant to humble her. The duke was impressed that she kept to her principles, even in the face of her father’s decision, and bought land from her father, but just enough to build the chapel. As the lady and he planned and built the chapel, they fell in love. Later it was rebuilt as it is now. Ever since then, it’s been considered good luck to marry in that chapel.” He took a long drink of wine. “I married my wife there, and I can tell you I loved her until her death, and I still love her.”
Kendal kept his arms around Thalia as they listened to the story, one he knew and loved. “God willing, we will have a long, loving, and happy marriage.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “Yes, God willing. I am glad we will be married there.”
Her sisters and aunt decided to retire and took Thalia with them. Only one more day, and no one would take her away from him again.
Brandy had replaced the champagne—Kendal wasn’t certain how wise that was, but a glass or two shouldn’t hurt—and he stared into the amber color as he swirled it around in the glass. The stories about Somerset concerned Kendal greatly. The old duke must be mad, but unless he was exhibiting physical signs of it, no one would be able to obtain a guardianship order. As far as the world was concerned, he might be single-minded, but he was perfectly sane.
“You must be prepared.” Hawksworth’s voice intruded into Kendal’s musings.
Sitting up straighter, he put his glass on a table. “Prepared for what?”
“Somerset. He’s not to be trusted. At all. He could arrive tonight or tomorrow morning instead of the evening.”
Damnation! Kendal clinched his jaw. “We cannot marry until the banns have been read. This marriage must be completely legal so that he cannot attempt an annulment.” The other men were in various stages of thought, but he focused on Quartus, who looked as if he had something to say. Before his marriage, he’d been a vicar. “Quartus, what is it?”
“There is no law against marrying on Sunday.” He lowered his brows. “What I do not know is if there is a waiting time required between calling the banns and the wedding ceremony. In England, one could conceivably wed immediately after the last banns had been called.”
Melbrough took a languid drink of his brandy. “It would certainly make it less interesting for you if you could be married without Somerset breathing down your neck.”
Hawksworth shook his head. “He has to sign the settlement agreements.”
Rage filled Kendal, and he reached for his glass to throw it. “I don’t care about the damn settlement agreements. I want her.”
“But she cares,” Markville said in a surprisingly soft tone. “I know Euphrosyne felt it when she thought she would come to me with nothing.”
Kendal set his goblet down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If he arrives early, what do we do?”
Berwick rose. “I shall inform my vicar to be prepared to perform the ceremony on an instant.”
“Thank you.” Kendal looked at the brandy and left it. He was going to find Thalia. He was going to do—what, he wasn’t sure. He’d never been so afraid of losing anyone in his life. He needed her like he needed air to breathe and water to drink. If it came to it, he’d throw her on a horse and ride across the border until he found someone to marry them. What he would not do was let her father take her away from him. “I shall see you in the morning.”
Footmen were stationed throughout the large, confusing house. He knew his way, but he didn’t know where Thalia was. Fortunately, he came across one of the maids he knew carrying a bucket. “Do you happen to know which room Lady Thalia has been given? I wish to leave something for her.”
The servant bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, Your Grace, she’s in the blue room fast asleep.”
“Very well. I shall wait until tomorrow. Thank you.”
“A good night, Your Grace.”