Page 83 of The Untamed Heart

They had been married just an hour earlier, by Reverend Honeywell, of course. Now they stood arguing in the ‘small’ dining room at Hatherley Hall, which was about the size of most people’s entire ground floor, where the duke had insisted they have the wedding breakfast. As making a dozen or more carriages face the climb up the hill, turn around, then come down again, seemed quite daunting—and the duke had been rather stubborn about it—they had accepted.

Mrs Wainwright’s nose had initially been quite out of joint at the prospect of having to relinquish control of the menu with the change of location. But they had found a happy compromise which allowed her to not only make the bridecake but all the pastries and tarts for the occasion. This left the dowager duchess’s temperamental French chef to supply everything else. The result was spectacular and far more food than the guests could have eaten at three wedding breakfasts, as both creative souls vied to outdo one another.

“Marcus, Eustacia, listen to me, you adorable idiots. Stacy, I love you to bits, and Marcus, I could not have found a worthier husband for my sister, but if you think I want to remain under the same roof as you two, billing and cooing and making sheep’s eyes at each other… well, think again. You said yourself how very snug the cottage was, did you not?”

Marcus could do nothing but agree. “I did, and I cannot force you to stay, but I hope you will not be a stranger to your sister. She would be most upset.”

“Upset? I’ll give you a bruise to match that one,” she said hotly, which made the poor fellow wince.

“I won’t, I swear it!” he said, grinning. “But don’t fret. I’m happy for you, and besides, I’m a young bachelor with a place of his own and no sister looking over his shoulder. What could be better?”

His eyes danced with mischief, and Eustacia experienced a sudden dart of misgiving. Seb could be reckless, heedless of the dangers he ran. In researching one of his books, which centred around a smuggling gang, he had spent a good deal of time with some very dangerous characters. It had worried her to death, though he seemed to have survived without a scratch. Still, what trouble might he get into without her keeping an eye on him?

“My God, Stacy, don’t look so terrified. I’ll survive, I promise you,” Seb said, shaking his head.

“You’d better,” she grumbled.

Seb made no answer but kissed her cheek and wandered off to mingle with the other guests.

Eustacia turned and looked up at her husband. Her husband. She still could not believe it.

How handsome he looked in his regimental uniform, and what a delight it was to her to see the pride he took in wearing it again. Major Keller had taken that from him for a time, but he would pay dearly for the part he’d played on that terrible day.

Marcus had overcome everything, and he’d done it with his honour intact. She was so proud of him that she did not know how her heart could contain it.

“Ah, the happy couple, and what a marvellous sight you make. I believe you must paint another portrait, my dear, but this time of both of you together.”

Eustacia beamed at Reverend Honeywell with delight. The man’s warmth and the obvious pleasure he had taken in marrying them had made the day perfect as far as she was concerned.

“Perhaps I should, though I cannot help but think it is about time the town commissioned one of its most esteemed residents, Reverend. We should all be quite lost without you, you know.”

To her surprise and delight, the man coloured slightly. “Good heavens, what an idea! Who on earth would want a portrait on the wall of an old fellow like me? Dear me, no,” he protested, though she could tell the idea pleased him.

She must speak to the dowager duchess about it; perhaps she would commission the work?

“I understand you are to take up residence at Seagull Heights, Colonel Hamilton, and that you have already wrought miracles upon the garden there? I wonder if you might advise me upon my roses when you have the time to spare. This dreadful summer has been rather hard on them, I fear, and I have yet to secure a fulltime gardener who has the depth of knowledge required. Since our old gardener, George, and my daughters all left home, the place is running wild, I fear.”

Marcus looked surprised and rather touched by the suggestion. “I should be delighted to do so, Reverend, and yes, we are to live at Seagull Heights. Mr Foxworthy has been so generous as to give it to Eustacia as a wedding present.”

“To us,” Eustacia corrected.

Marcus smiled at her. “To us,” he agreed.

The rest of the morning proceeded in a blur of lively chatter, excellent food and champagne, until it was finally time to go. It was just as well, as Marcus was looking just a touch impatient.

“Congratulations to you, Marcus,” Lord Sheringham said, as they moved around the guests to say their goodbyes. “You’re a lucky fellow,” he added, taking the liberty of kissing Eustacia’s hand, his dark eyes twinkling wickedly. She really must get him together with Seb, he’d make the most marvellously charming villain in one of her brother’s books.

Marcus returned a long-suffering look but did not rebuke the fellow for his temerity. She was the bride, after all, and such things were acceptable.

“Thank you,” he said dryly.

“Lucius.” Sheringham said, elbowing the Earl of Darenth, who was gazing abstractedly into the distance. “Lucius!”

The man jumped, blinking as if he’d been somewhere else entirely.

“What?” he demanded, his expression indignant.

“For heaven’s sake, say goodbye to the bride and groom.”