“It does not matter if it is the size of a pin, you fatheads,” Hugo said, holding out one huge hand and giving Ben’s a hearty shake. “Good for you, lad. My Gwendoline dances too, and you have all seen how she limps when she walks.”
Imogen bent to kiss Ben’s cheek. “It was your dream to dance one day,” she said. “Everyone ought to have a dearest dream come true.”
Ben caught her hand in his. “And what is yours, Imogen?” he asked her.
He immediately regretted the question, for everyone fell silent to listen to her reply, and she gazed back at him, her eyes large and luminous. Something flickered in them and then died.
“Oh,” she said in her soft, cool voice, “to meet someone tall, dark, and handsome and be swept off my feet, of course.”
He squeezed her hand and held it to his lips for a moment. He wanted to apologize, but that would be to admit that he knew she had not answered his question.
“I am sorry, Imogen,” Hugo said, “but I am already taken.”
“She said handsome, Hugo,” Ralph said.
They all laughed and the moment passed.
“There must have been something in the air in Cornwall last spring,” George said as the landlord came into the room with a loaded tray. “Three of our number married within the year. And my nephew too.”
“The heir?” Ben asked.
“Julian, yes,” George said. “And all love matches, it seems to me. One has only to look at you and Mrs. McKay, Ben, to smell May blossoms. You have done well. You will have a wife for whom you obviously care deeply and a way of life that seems to have been custom made for you, all in one neat package.”
“And all in the d-darkest bowels of the wild country,” Flavian said. “I expected savages to j-jump out at me from behind every r-rock as I traveled here, Ben, intent upon slitting my throat.”
“It is more likely,” Ben said, “that they would want to kidnap you so that they could sing to you, Flave. You should hear the miners’ choir where I work. It would be enough to make you weep sentimental tears.”
“S-spare me,” Flavian said faintly.
Hugo had a tankard of ale in his hand. “We must not keep Ben from his beauty sleep tonight of all nights,” he said, “and we will not try to get him foxed. But we will drink a toast to you, Benedict. That all your life your heart will dance as your person did in that alcove before Christmas.”
“Oh, the devil!” Flavian said, getting to his feet and holding aloft his glass of port. “Marriage is t-turning Hugo embarrassingly poetic. But he has the r-rights of it, Benedict, my boy. M-may you be happy. It is all we have ever w-wanted for one another.”
“To you, Benedict,” Imogen said, lifting her glass of wine. “And to Samantha.”
“To your happiness, Ben,” Ralph said, “and Mrs. McKay’s.”
“To you, brother,” Calvin said. “I always admired you greatly. You knew what you wanted and you went after it and did superbly well. It almost killed me when you were so badly hurt so soon after Wallace was killed. But then I learned to admire you more than I ever had. And I still do even if you do cause me worry when you won’t come home and let me look after you and when you insist upon walking and even dancing, for the love of God. To you, brother—all the happiness in the world and to Samantha too.”
Ben, smiling at him, felt rather as if he were seeing his brother for the first time.
“And may you always ride your wheels as fast as we can run, Benedict,” the duke said.
They all drank, and Ben laughed.
“If you do not want to see me turn into a watering pot,” he said, “and if you do not want to find the doors of Cartref locked against you, you had better leave. I will see you all in the morning.”
“One word of advice, Ben,” Hugo said as they were taking their leave. “Get your valet to tie your neckcloth looser than usual tomorrow. There is something about being at the front of the church when you are a bridegroom waiting for your bride to arrive that makes the neck expand.”
“And he is not lying, Ben,” Calvin told him.
Samantha’s half brother arrived the day before her wedding. She had already moved into the big house and greeted him there on his arrival. They shook hands and conversed politely. She asked about her sister-in-law and nephews and nieces. He asked her about her home and her connections in the village. He shook hands with Ben and conversed politely with him.
But it was all done in company with others. Samantha was touched that he had come so far and at the worst time of the year for her sake. But he seemed more like a stranger she had once known than someone who was close to her. She hoped he would not regret coming. But she supposed he would not. He had come out of a sense of duty to their father, not out of any fondness for her.
Ah, life was difficult sometimes.
It was not until the following morning that she finally saw him alone.
She was dressed for her wedding. She had chosen a simply styled dress of warm white velvet with a gold chain and locket about her neck and gold earrings. A small gold-colored bonnet hugged her head. Her heavy cloak, which was flung over the back of a chair in her dressing room, was also of white velvet with gold frogged fasteners at the front and fur lining.
She had considered various bright colors but had rejected them all in favor of white. She wanted simplicity. She wanted just herself on display to her bridegroom, not the brightness of her clothes.