“And so, I am delighted to announce that Lady Susan Crompton and Lord Griffith Halliwell, Earl of Pendlebury, are to be married Wednesday next at St. John’s Parish church in Preston.”
Loud applause resounded as Griff assisted Susan to mount the dais. Gabriel shook Griff’s hand. Emma hugged Susan. Patsy jumped up and down with glee, to the detriment of the complicated hair-do.
The applause ebbed when Griff held up a hand. “I’m grateful to Lord and Lady Farnworth and to Patsy for welcoming me so warmly into their family.”
More applause.
“However, my greatest thanks goes to Lady Susan Crompton. Most of you probably already know of her heroic actions that saved my life a fortnight since.”
“Mine too,” Baron Whiteside shouted.
Louder applause.
“What you don’t know,” Griff continued, “is that Susan has saved my life in more ways than one. She has made me a better man, and I am honored she has agreed to be my wife.”
He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat for the surprise he had concealed there, took hold of Susan’s hand and slipped the ring on her finger. He hoped the simple circle of pearls with a diamond at their heart would please her. “This belonged to my mother, Susan. I ask you to accept it as a token of my love and esteem.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as she stared at the ring. “I love it,” she declared, standing on tiptoe to kiss his lips. He drew her into his embrace and deepened the kiss. It probably wasn’t appropriate behavior but the whistling and cheering seemed to indicate no one was offended. They were among down-to-earth northern folks, after all.
A Wedding
Aweek later,Griff stood before a stern-faced Canon Parr, awaiting his bride. He hadn’t set foot in the church since meeting the curate, and the parson chastised him for his absence as soon as they met for the first time fifteen minutes before.
Swallowing his annoyance, Griff apologized, mumbling an excuse about responsibilities at Clifton Heights.
Turning to scan the crowded pews, he easily picked out the old maids with the Book of Common Prayer clutched to their copious bosoms.
Elderly bachelors sat separately. He recognized the tailor and Gabe’s friend, the doctor who’d tended Bertrand and seen to Griff’s own rope burns and sprained shoulder muscles.
Many of Thicketford Manor’s servants were in attendance, including James Footman who’d willingly walked Orion home from the quarry.
He suspected the men with plump wives and rosy-cheeked daughters carried on trade of some sort. Lawyers and other professional men were easily identified by the manner in which they looked down their noses at the millworkers who completed the throng. Susan had explained the cotton workers attended church only on special occasions.
As Griff waited in the crowded church, he was chuffed—a delightful Lancashire word his father was fond of—that his marriage had clearly been deemed a special occasion.
Griff wondered what the attendees thought of his decision to ask a servant to be his best man. He couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have at his side on this momentous day than his faithful butler. He might have known Potts would consider his black frock coat with tails, black waistcoat, knife-edged black trousers and starched white shirtfront as the most appropriate garb for the day. The only concession to the joyful nature of the occasion was the white bowtie that had replaced the usual black. Griff stopped fretting when Mr. Carr nodded his approval upon their arrival at the church.
A murmur of excitement rippled through the congregation. The carriage bearing the bride had arrived. Griff straightened his shoulders, gasping when he beheld Susan standing beside the font, a shimmering beacon in the shadowed porch.
*
Susan appreciated thereassurance of Gabriel’s gloved hand on her arm as she prepared to walk down the aisle with him. “It doesn’t seem all that long ago since you and Emma were married in this same place,” she said.
“You’re right,” he replied. “We were fortunate to find each other. Sometimes, life has a way of bringing people together in unlikely circumstances. Just like you and Griffith.”
Susan recognized the truth of her good fortune. “Emma told me then that I would find the right man one day.”
Gabriel arched a brow. “She did?”
“I snarled at her,” Susan admitted.
“You look beautiful, Aunty Susan,” Patsy said.
“Thank you for being my bridesmaid, darling. One day, you’ll walk down the aisle to wed the man of your dreams.”
“Ugh,” Patsy replied, scrunching up her nose.
“Sorry. What did I miss?” Emma asked as she joined them, adjusting her gown after feeding Rafe in the vestry. “Sometimes babies choose the most inopportune times.”