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Audrey rose before dawn to inspect her bedchamber, wary of any servants appearing too early. She moved quietly about the room, tidying away the evidence of Julius. The linens were smoothed, pillows plumped, and her slippers retrieved from beneath the edge of the bed. Still fatigued from the interruptions of the night before, she smoothed her crumpled night rail and climbed beneath the covers, the faint scent of his masculine presence lingering in the air.
When next she woke, sunlight streamed through the windows in golden shafts, and a glance at the timepiece on her bedside table revealed the hour—nearly noon. Not the habit of the country girl she remained at heart, yet she would gladly sacrifice every early rising for the chance to relive such a night. A thousand times over, she would not tire of hearing Julius murmur his admiration.
She stretched languidly and turned her head to inhale the pillow where he had lain. It smelled of spice, leather, and something ineffably masculine. A smile curved her lips.
Rolling from the bed, she made her way to the washstand, where a basin of cool water awaited. She had only begun her ablutions when a soft knock rapped at the chamber door. Drawing her robe about her and padding barefoot across the floor, she opened it with mild curiosity.
Julius leaned lazily against the opposite wall, his expression far too pleased with himself. He lifted a folded document in one hand and waggled it at her in triumph.
“Would you care to say your vows?”
Her mouth parted in delighted surprise. “The license?”
“It is. Are you ready?”
She glanced down at her nightwear and robe with a wry look. “I think not.”
His gaze swept over her, bold and unmistakably appreciative. “I do not see the issue. But if you must change, have you something charming tucked away in that wardrobe?”
Audrey turned to eye the mahogany piece and wrinkled her nose. “Only mourning garments lie within.”
Julius grinned. “Then my mother shall be summoned. Between her and Penelope, I have no doubt a suitable French gown can be produced.”
She nodded, heart fluttering at the swiftness of it all. “And what of a vicar?”
“The Reverend E. Stone is enjoying a hearty repast in the breakfast room while we dawdle upstairs.”
Audrey blinked. “Reverend Stone! You confirmed his alibi, then?”
“We did. Quite firmly. He was most flattered to be asked to officiate for such an illustrious family. He was the first to come to mind when the special license arrived this morning.”
Her smile widened. She had liked the cheerful clergyman and was pleased he would play a part. “Then send your mother!”
She closed the door with a flourish and returned to her toilette, washing swiftly before stepping into her stockings and shift. Seating herself at the dressing table, she began brushing her hair when Lady Stirling entered with her lady’s maid in tow, arms filled with fine gowns. Cheerful chatter filled the room as they dressed her, the countess fussing with maternal warmth.
They selected a soft azure gown trimmed with indigo braid at the waist and neckline, its flowing skirts falling gracefully to the floor. A cascade of ivory lace adorned the bodice, its relaxed shaping flattering her figure. At the mirror, Audrey was astonished at her reflection. The maid had twisted her hair into a delicate coif, her golden locks arranged to frame her cheeks with becoming softness. The blue of the gown deepened the hue of her eyes.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” Lady Stirling murmured behind her, tears glistening as she dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief.
Audrey was unused to such maternal attentions, but she found she liked the warmth of it. Sharing this moment, dressing for her wedding day, with the countess stirred something gentle and unfamiliar in her.
She grinned. It would do.
Shortly afterward, they departed Audrey’s chamber, Lady Stirling accompanying her to the formal drawing room. Within, the atmosphere was cheerful and expectant. Lord Stirling, immaculately turned out in a coat of deep blue, conversed amiably with his daughter, Penelope, whose mood had markedly improved since the previous evening.
Julius stood nearby in animated conversation with Reverend Stone. Also present was Lord Filminster, accompanied by a diminutive young lady with chocolate brown hair, the Baroness Filminster, Audrey surmised. The resemblance to her much taller brother, Lord Abbott, was unmistakable. The viscount stood beside his bride, the statuesque redhead, Lady Abbott, who towered over the other ladies present with enviable grace.
Julius approached, offering his arm. “Shall I walk you around for introductions?”
She nodded, and he led her forward with an easy smile. As Audrey conversed with Reverend Stone about the ceremony to come, another pair entered the drawing room, and Julius turned to greet them with warmth.
“Miss Gideon, allow me to present my sometime chum, Lord Saunton, though it is his brother with whom I share closer acquaintance.”
Lord Saunton, a well-favored gentleman with an air of mischief, shook his head in mock reproof and bowed over her hand. “Pay Trafford no mind, Miss Gideon. We are never friends. I merely endure him for my brother’s sake.”
Audrey laughed and dipped a graceful curtsy. “The honor is mine, my lord.”
Julius turned next to the earl’s wife. “Lady Saunton, may I present my bride, Miss Audrey Gideon?”
