Fanny winced but then out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Gillian, Duchess of Stapleton, watching her and Letterford talking. Gillian beckoned Fanny to join her, and it appeared to Fanny imperative that she go. “Forgive me but it seems I am being summoned by the duchess. Would you excuse me?”
Lord Letterford’s shoulders sagged. “Of course, perhaps we might talk again later.”
Not if I can help it. Fanny smiled politely. “I look forward to it.”
But she fully intended to go out of her way to avoid the earl for the rest of the day so he could not finish asking a question that he’d only receive a negative answer to. She would not marry Letterford to cheer him up, restore his fortunes, or fund any improvements to his estate or back an unwise investment.
Fanny caught up her friend and new mama’s outstretched hands and held them. “What is wrong,” she murmured.
“The babe is kicking again, and I’m in danger of laughing
out loud.” Gillian squeezed her fingers. “Lord Thwaite’s eyes kept dipping to my stomach as the babe moved. He seemed horrified and kept asking if I needed a chair. Do children not know there’s a time and place for this sort of thing?”
“Apparently not.” Fanny looked down at Gillian’s stomach. “Quiet, infant. Your mother is supposed to be composed and regal today.”
Gillian sighed after a minute. “At last. Peace and stillness. You wield the voice of authority so well. Your father’s presence has the same affect.”
“I am the eldest.”
“When your brother Samuel arrived and spoke to me, I had to quickly seat myself. Obviously, the child is looking forward to meeting his stepbrother a little too much.”
Fanny laughed. “Poor darling. Not long now.”
“Oh, I do hope so.”
Jessica suddenly stopped in front of them. “You need to go to Rebecca, Fanny. She’s in the dining room on the verge of…well, you know how she can be.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Fanny promised.
She left Gillian and found Rebecca and a harassed-looking pair of maids stammering out repeated apologies. Fanny closed the doors behind her and raised her voice a little. “Mrs. Warner?”
Rebecca spun about, eyes wild. “Do you see this?”
“What has overset you?”
“The flowers. Can you not see? They just get taller and taller. It’s ruined the whole effect.”
Fanny glanced about the room. Rebecca was something of a perfectionist and obviously determined that the wedding be nothing short of spectacular. The flowers were cut much too tall for a seated dinner party. Not quite a disaster, but clearly Rebecca saw it that way.
Fanny sighed, took up her sister’s hands and held them tightly. “I’ll take care of it.”
Rebecca sagged. “Would you?”
“Happy to help. I can handle a pair of shears.” She steered her sister toward the door. “Now go back to the guests and that ridiculous man you love, and for heaven’s sake, stop worrying. Enjoy yourself.”
There’d be a pre-wedding dinner and a pre-wedding party as well, but each occasion would be unique. Today was merely a rehearsal for married life.
“What would I do without you.”
“Pray you never have to find out,” Fanny joked, pushing Rebecca out the door and closing it in her face.
Fanny turned to the maids and shrugged. “You’d never guess she’s been married before. Please forgive her. She wants so much to make everything perfect for Lord Rafferty.”
The pair nodded. “We understand, my lady. To be honest, we were afraid she’d burst into tears.”
“Well, let’s not have that. Now, we will each need a pair of shears. Quickly now.”
One raced off, and the other followed Fanny to a nearby vase as she studied the arrangements. “There really are just too many vases.”