Bedworth took a breath, as though to announce her. She grabbed his arm, saying, ‘Oh, please don’t!’ Everyone would turn and stare at her again, and she would have to walk in alone, when she knew she ought to have been there, at her husband’s side, to receive them correctly when they had first arrived.
Her uncle was pacing up and down the end of the room where the tables were laid out, his expression thunderous as he glanced down at the pocket watch he held in his hand.
Frantically, she searched the room for a friendly face.
She saw Nick by the fireplace, talking to Lord Keddinton. As she had been leaving the church earlier, Lord Keddinton had managed to express, with one supercilious lift of an eyebrow, that he had expected nothing else from such a hoyden. It was just as well she had never got round to asking him to help her find employment. She would always have reflected badly upon his judgement of character.
Though she could not blame Nick for making the most of the opportunity to approach the great man. Everyone knew the vast extent of Lord Keddinton’s influence. And Nick had no chance of ever securing a more powerful patron.
No, she would keep well away from them both for now.
The Veryan girls were standing in a corner, heads together, looking very pleased with themselves. They were probably discussing the way she had managed to make even her triumph in snaring the most eligible bachelor in town into a spectacle that would be gossiped and sniggered about for days.
There was no sign of Viscount Stanegate or his wife, she noted with disappointment. She had particularly wanted to speak to William Wardale’s daughter. She had meant to make a point of smiling at her during the ceremony, but of course she had been in no fit state to smile about anything by the time Monty dragged her down the aisle.
At last, her eyes came to rest on Rick, who was standing talking to Lady Verity’s other brother, Hal Carlow, and her heart gave a little lurch. The one person, above all others, she had wished to attend her wedding ceremony had not been there!
‘Rick,’ she said, the other occupants of the room fading into insignificance.
He had been deep in conversation with Major Carlow, but at the sound of his name on her lips he raised his head and came striding towards her, his face creased with concern.
‘I am sorry, Midge,’ he said, taking both her hands in his. ‘The fellow disappeared completely. Crawled back under whatever stone he had been hiding under, I expect.’
‘Rick! How can you be so unkind? If that man is Stephen…’
‘Ah, yes, if,’ he said sharply. ‘Look, Midge, don’t you think it more likely that somebody just wanted to spoil your wedding day? And paid some passing stranger to pose as…well…Stephen Hebden? You snatching Monty out from under them all will have put quite a few noses out of joint, I daresay…’
Midge’s mind flew back to the malicious smiles upon the faces of the Veryan girls. And the way they had always managed to make her look ridiculous. And she wondered if Rick could be right.
‘I thought…’ She shook her head. ‘He knew so many things…I couldn’t see how he could have known them if he wasn’t…’
But Major Carlow, who had sauntered over, was looking at her with an expression it was hard to fathom.
‘Did I hear a’right? It was Stephen Hebden trying to gain entry to the church just now?’
‘Yes,’ said Midge, at exactly the same moment Rick said, ‘No! Fellow claiming to be Stephen Hebden. But Stephen died years ago—’
‘Only wish to God he had!’ rapped Major Carlow. Then, pulling himself up short, ‘Beg pardon, my lady, but I have had some experience of his tactics, and I think it only fair to warn you…’ He petered out, just a second before she became aware Monty had joined them in the doorway.
‘Having to beg my lady’s pardon already, Hal? And you not five minutes in the house, you unmitigated scoundrel!’
Major Carlow smiled, but not with the same insouciance she had seen in him earlier.
The three men then indulged in a few moments of jovially insulting one another, the way her three stepbrothers had used to do. As she listened, she felt Monty’s arm slide round her waist. She knew she ought to have made some protest, but she couldn’t summon the will power to pretend she was not downright glad of his physical support. She had never felt so plain and gauche as she did standing there in the first gown to come out of her trunk, in the shadow of two officers in dress uniform and the most handsome man in the world.
She wondered, with a little pang of hurt, if this was why Viscount Mildenhall had dressed so plainly today. Because he did not want to outshine his fubsy little bride.
It was kind of him, if so. For she was sure he would much rather be wearing something that showed off his physique, like the major’s snugly fitting uniform.
As though Monty had sensed she was feeling left out, he squeezed her waist a little more firmly, before saying, ‘Come, then. Let us put on our Society faces, and go and greet our other guests properly.’
‘Before we do,’ she said, ‘may I ask, that is,’ she could feel her cheeks going red as she looked up into Major Carlow’s face. ‘I notice that Viscount Stanegate and his wife have not arrived. I do hope…’
‘Nell’s not feeling quite the thing, so Marcus took her home, thank God,’ he said. ‘Hate to think how upset she would have been had she heard that Gypsy troublemaker was hanging about the church.’
Midge blinked up at him in surprise, but before she could ask exactly what he had meant by that cryptic statement, Monty was dragging her away.
‘No more of that now, please,’ he murmured into her ear as he steered her towards the first knot of wedding guests. ‘I will find out what he meant, discreetly, and we can discuss it later. For now, we have a job to do.’
He startled her by dropping a swift kiss on her cheek. ‘Pretending to be respectable pillars of Society.’
She felt both the words and the deed like a blow, an unnecessary reminder that he thought her very far from respectable!
Later, she vowed, when he discussed all the items on his agenda, she was going to bring up the matter of his erroneous opinion of her!
He seemed unaware of her simmering resentment as he guided her through the room, charming one group of guests after another. He kept his arm round her waist, holding her close to his side as though he could not bear to be parted from her by so much as an inch!
But by the time they sat down to dine, the whole atmosphere had lightened considerably. The banquet her aunt had arranged was truly magnificent, the waiting staff smoothly efficient, and conversation around the table was soon flowing as freely as the copious quantities of champagne her uncle had supplied.
It could not have gone off better.
Even Midge managed not to knock anything over or spill anything down her gown.
When it was time to leave, her aunt, who was looking much less fraught after the amount of champagne she had imbibed, came to bid her farewell.
‘Well, I must say, you have married a man with great presence of mind. The way he handled our guests, as though he saw nothing untoward in that Disgraceful Scene outside the church…’
She reached out and patted Midge on the cheek. ‘And, after all, you will be a countess one day. Then—’ she drew herself up to her full height ‘—they will all have to keep their tongues between their teeth!’
Midge gathered that her aunt must have spent a great portion of the afternoon fielding spiteful comments about her conduct, but rather than looking harassed, Lady Callandar was positively vibrating with triumph.
‘Next time you make an exhibition