Epilogue
April 1812
Diana, Duchess of Grenwood, stood with her sisters and husband on Grenwood House’s terrace at the very edge of the garden as the vows were spoken. Lady Rosabel Brookhouse, now Lady Winston Chalmers, turned to her brand-new husband for the kiss.
“Now that’s a kiss,” Eliza murmured. “There’s a man who knows what he’s about.”
Geoffrey snorted. “He ought to. He’s done enough of it through the years.”
“Do I detect a note of envy?” Verity asked.
“You do not,” Geoffrey said, sounding offended.
“Well, I can’t judge your kissing,” Eliza said. “Diana won’t let me.”
“Trust me,” Diana said. “He’s beyond compare.” She added in a stage whisper, “He makes me say that. He’s really dreadful.”
“Hey!” Geoffrey said, drawing the attention of everyone seated. Not that it mattered, because Rosy and Winston were already down the aisle and headed inside to enjoy the wedding breakfast.
Diana laughed. “Surely you know I’m teasing you.”
“All the same, just see if I give you any more kisses,” he said, tipping up his chin in an exaggerated show of snobbishness.
Placing her hand on her rounded belly, she said, “Perhaps that’s for the best, considering.”
Her sisters laughed. The rest of the guests—a fairly small gathering, in keeping with the wishes of both Rosy and Winston—headed indoors to find their seats at the breakfast.
But the three sisters lingered. “That was the perfect wedding!” Verity said. “You outdid yourself with the design for that gorgeous gown, Diana.”
“Honestly, I barely had a hand in it.”
“The piping along the sleeves makes it perfect,” Eliza said.
“That was Rosy’s idea,” Diana said. “That and the ruffles on her hem.”
“I’ve never seen a woman with such a love of ruffles,” Verity said. “She would put ruffles on her shoes if she had room for them.”
Diana shook her head. “I only wish I had her tiny feet. Right now, I feel both bloated and fat-footed.”
“You look radiant,” Geoffrey said. “But then, you always do.”
Verity rolled her eyes. “Perhaps we should move inside for the next stage of judging.”
“What are you judging?” Geoffrey asked.
“The wedding, of course,” Eliza said. “My part will have to wait for later, when there’s dancing.”
“But why are you judging a wedding that you all had a hand in planning?” Geoffrey persisted as they entered the dining room.
Verity whirled on Diana. “You haven’t asked him yet?”
“I’ve been trying to find the right moment.”
“Asked me what?” Geoffrey said.
“To judge Rosy’s handling of the wedding,” Diana said. “Or rather, each part of the wedding. It was her idea. She has learned a great deal in the past eleven months, but she wanted a test to be sure she could do everything to a certain level of competency. So we agreed to teach her each area, and then we’re each judging her handling of the various parts. But we wanted a layman’s judge for each of the parts as well. We asked your mother, but she pointed out that she was too biased to judge.”
“And I’m not too biased?” Geoffrey asked.