Mrs. Phillips pursed her lips as if she were concealing a great secret.
“Mrs. Phillips,” Leticia begged. “Where can I find my aunt?”
Before she could persuade or even demand her lady’s maid deal frankly with her, the door to the chamber swung open, and Aunt Amelia entered. She, like Leticia, was dressed in the plain white gown, but her hair was already done up neatly, and her cheeks were pink with excitement. “It’s been quite a morning,” she said, shutting the door firmly behind herself and crossing the chamber to stand next to Mrs. Phillips behind Leticia. “Did you sleep well, darling?” she asked, giving Leticia a slight smile in the mirror.
“No,” Leticia mumbled honestly. “I tossed about all night long.”
Aunt Amelia sighed. “It seems you were not the only one unable to sleep last night.”
“Richard?” Leticia inquired, sitting upright, now feeling fully alert.
“No,” Aunt Amelia replied slowly. For a long moment, the two ladies locked eyes in the mirror, and Leticia wondered if perhaps her aunt was the right person to confide in with all she’d overheard Miss Loery say. She’d always trusted her aunt with all her secrets before, and now…it felt natural to unfold the truth to her. Leticia opened her mouth to speak, but her aunt chose the same moment to continue her own thoughts. “Your Uncle Sebastian refused to come to bed last night. A few of the men gathered in the billiards room after all the ladies retired. They drank ‘til dawn, and when I laid eyes on your uncle just now, he was outside near the gardens, puffing away on a thick cigar. What am I to do with him?”
While Leticia knew her aunt loved her uncle with all her heart, their relationship had never been easy. Uncle Sebastian had too bombastic a personality to ever feel it necessary to restrain himself. He drank to excess regularly, and he smoked cigars whenever they were offered. And while his wife adored him still, it had always been clear to Leticia that his sometimes-overpowering attributes wore down Aunt Amelia. “Leave it to me,” Leticia said, giving her aunt a comforting smile in the looking glass. “As soon as Mrs. Phillips and I are finished here, I’ll go outside to fetch him.”
“Oh, that would be a tremendous help. Thank you,” Aunt Amelia sighed. Then, she inhaled deeply and brought herself up to her full height. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to the Dowager. She’s having quite the morning and—”
“Go on,” Leticia interrupted, waving her hand over her shoulder at her aunt. “Just promise to save me a seat at the ceremony.”
Aunt Amelia shot her a grateful look once more before exiting the room, and no sooner had she gone when Mrs. Phillips heaved her own sigh of relief. “I think I’ve done all I can for now,” she said, patting the hanging bluebells that formed a small crown around the top of Leticia’s head. “We were told not to create any hairstyles that were too intricate or alluring. Wouldn’t want to steal any attention away from the bride now, would we?”
Leticia forced a smile onto her face and rose. “Thank you, Mrs. Phillips. I’ll just go search out my uncle now.”
* * *
“It was at least thirty years ago when I led the British against the French fleet—” Admiral Shelling boasted loudly.
“Codswallop,” Uncle Sebastian grunted. “You never commanded a ship, let alone a whole fleet in your whole life.” He took a long pull from his glass. Leticia could not tell exactly what her uncle was drinking so thirstily at this hour of the morning, but based on the way he was bantering robustly with the Admiral, she was sure he had done as her aunt had said and continued consuming alcohol.
“Then how did I get the title of Admiral, I ask you?” Admiral Shelling questioned, his ruddy cheeks turning a vibrant red shade. His thin white mustache quivered with righteous indignation.
“I’m sure it was just an honor bestowed upon you after the fact,” Uncle Sebastian replied pompously. His free hand floated toward his own medals that were pinned on his chest. He patted them proudly. “Some of us had to earn our ranks.”
That made the admiral snort loudly. “And did you earn your title,LordPearl?”
At that, Leticia reached her breaking point. She’d found her uncle and his sometimes friend, sometimes rival, Admiral Shelling having this same argument twenty minutes ago. The two were known for always trying to one-up each other by sharing their own war stories. While Leticia generally tolerated their bragging quite well, she was so tortured by her own ponderings that she found their shouting to be more than she could bear.
“Enough,” she said through gritted teeth. She reached toward her uncle and began tugging on his waistcoat, trying to straighten it and make him look presentable. “The two of you may continue this discussion at a later time—”
“And we will,” her uncle interjected, leaning around her to widen his eyes meaningfully at the Admiral.
“I’m sure you will,” Leticia proceeded, giving the shoulders of his jacket a quick brushing with her gloved hand. He was not quite as shabby as others might have been if they’d stayed up all night carousing. Thin red lines in his eyes indicated that he was fatigued, and his jacket was a bit rumpled, as if he and the Admiral might have at some point been sparring with one another, but other than that, he looked much as he always did. She gave his lapel one more yank and then clapped her hands on his shoulders. “Now, stand up straight,” she commanded.
Then she spun on her heel and eyed Admiral Shelling. “You too, Admiral.” She walked toward him and gave him a once-over glance. He was wearing his officer’s uniform, and not a stitch was out of place. As his demeanor calmed considerably, she looked him over, evaluating whether he was presentable or not. She reached forward and plucked his goblet from his hand. Then, she grabbed her uncle’s glass as well. Unceremoniously, she dumped the meager contents of each onto the lawn and threw the cups to the ground. “Gentlemen,” she said stoutly, lifting her chin, “we have a wedding to attend.”
As if on cue, both men held out their arms, offering to escort her down the winding pathway. Leticia nodded her approval and wove both hands through their arms, clutching each man about the elbow. “Let’s play nice during the wedding ceremony, and once it is over, the two of you are free to resume your conversation. But, if we don’t move along now, we shall all be late.”
Admiral Shelling stepped forward then, and as they were all linked, Leticia and her uncle moved in synchronization with him. They made their way down the pathway to the carriages that awaited to take them to St. George’s, and as they stepped slowly in the correct direction, Uncle Sebastian said with a hint of irritation in his voice, “Why are there so many rose petals underfoot?” They kept striding forward, but his nose wrinkled as he kept talking. “The whole path is carpeted with them.”
“I don’t think there are that many rose petals,” Admiral Shelling said snidely, as though he were only adding this comment so that they might persist in their argument. “This seems like just the right amount to me.”
Oh no…I’ve missed the processional.
All of Leticia’s instincts screamed at her to leave the two bickering old gentlemen in her wake and plow ahead toward the church, so she could join the others, but she knew it was already too late. She prayed that no one had noticed her absence, and that they would make it inside the chapel before Miss Loery made her appearance.
“Step lively,” she said, darting forward and dragging the two men with her. They clambered into the first available carriage and headed to the chapel.
When they arrived just a few moments later, she was relieved to see that the doors to the church were still open, and that the guests were talking and whispering with one another. She surged forward down the aisle, leading the men toward the first pew where her aunt was already seated right next to the Dowager.