To have had two funerals one day and a celebration the next did seem a little peculiar, but Dougald said, “I think the funerals were extraordinary circumstances, and the Queen’s visit is a special moment. Her Majesty would not wish to think she was intruding on our mourning, and we would not wish to make her uncomfortable by unnecessary lamentation.”
“So I told Spring, my lord,” Miss Minnie said.
“You are very wise,” Dougald answered. “And may I say, you look lovely in that gray silk.”
Miss Minnie smoothed the skirt. “I haven’t worn it in years. It lacks élan.”
“But with your dignity, you carry off the older styles.” Dougald watched as the aunts got into a little group where they tittered and talked, then he walked to the archway where Hannah stood with her fists on her hips.
“How did you do that?” she demanded.
“What?” He smiled at her.
“Make them relax. I’ve been telling them to, but they don’t listen to me.”
“I don’t understand it.” He stroked a strand of golden hair. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?”
Her fists unclenched.
“Your gown is perfect for an afternoon visit from Her Majesty. I would never have thought that color of gold would so perfectly match your hair.”
A faint smiled touched her lips, and she glanced down. “I do like it.”
“The shimmer of the silk gives just the right touch of elegance to the severe fashion.”
“I’m tall. Furbelows look ridiculous on me.”
“You have a wonderful sense of style.” Taking her hand, he led her to the outside door, a new double wooden affair with a window above and on either side. After a clap on the shoulder of the footmen who watched the road, Dougald told Hannah, “Pretend you are Her Majesty and you have just stepped into Raeburn Castle. What do you think?”
She looked around, and he looked with her. The meticulous work by the carpenters, plasterers and stonemasons exhibited no signs of haste. The rose-marble floor stretched smoothly through the foyer to the hardwood in the main corridor. The carved wood casements shone with polish, and the cream paint was smooth on the walls.
“It’s lovely,” she said.
“I think we should have some gold leaf done on the soffit—when we have time, of course.”
She looked up. “Yes.”
“I’m especially pleased with marble detail on the new outside stairs. Too bad Her Majesty won’t get to see much in the rain.”
Hannah drew her fringed shawl a little closer around her shoulders. “Dougald, are you deliberately soothing me?”
He’d always known she was too clever by half. “Is it working?”
For a moment, she seemed torn between laughter and ire, but her sense of humor won the hard-fought battle. She chuckled reluctantly. “You’re a scoundrel.”
“An adoring scoundrel.”
“You have to stop smiling.” She glanced around.
“Everyone’s going to know what we were doing last night.”
“Let them.”
“They don’t know we’re married yet.”
“I rather like that. I haven’t done anything illicit for…well, since the last time we were illicit.”
“Last week.” She thought the man deserved to languish for manipulating her, even for a good cause, so as she left him she cast a flirtatious glance over her shoulder.
She hadn’t had occasion to practice flirtatious glances, but this one seemed effective for he straightened, lost his smile, and stalked after her.
Joining the aunts, she said with considerably less formality, “I’m so excited.”
“Are you sure Her Majesty will like the tapestry?” Aunt Ethel asked for at least the fifth time.
“It is the most magnificent tapestry I have ever seen,” Hannah said. “Only a fool would fail to like the tapestry, and Queen Victoria is no fool.”
The aunts exchanged glances, and chorused, “We’re excited, too!”
Seaton skidded around the corner at a run. “Am I late?”
“Not at all.” Hannah stood in amazement of Seaton’s garb. Where other men wore proper, somber colors to greet their sovereign, Seaton strutted like a peacock in a combination of emerald, yellow and dark blue.
Making Hannah his best bow, he begged, “Dear Miss Setterington, would you introduce me to Her Majesty?”
“When protocol allows it, certainly.” Protocol being the moment when Queen Victoria needed some amusement. “But possibly you should wait in the great hall.”
Eyes shining, he straightened his plaid, satin waistcoat. “As you wish, Miss Setterington!”
Hannah smiled after him. “He’s a dear,” she said.
“He’s a cretin,” Dougald replied.
The watching footman almost tripped over his feet as he arrived to announce, “My lord, they’re here. A dozen carriages, all full.”
A flurry of activity broke out among the serving folk; they each had been assigned a station and they guarded their duty fiercely, anxious to see their Queen. The butler opened the door. The footmen with their umbrellas rushed outside and down the stairs, each dressed in his finest livery and knowing he would be soaked for the glory of escorting any one of the Royal Party. One very lucky young man had been chosen to lift the largest umbrella over Her Majesty, and he trembled with the honor done him.
Hannah reflected that the excitement could only be a release for the family and the staff. The Queen’s visit had inadvertently distracted attention from the death of Mrs. Trenchard and the discovery of Aunt Spring’s child. For the next fortnight, the gossip would be about Her Majesty, the Royal Family, and the reception.
The aunts hurried to get in line once more, and Hannah took her place at the front of that line. Dougald had never met Her Majesty, so Hannah would greet the Queen first and introduce them.
Dougald stood alone by the open door, a tall, spare, handsome man of unusual dignity and an impressive physique.
Hannah knew. The night before she had explored every muscle, every sinew, every inch of skin. She really should have gotten more sleep, but of what value was sleep when she was in love?
“Your Majesty.” Dougald’s words, his low bow brought Hannah’s mind back to the foyer, from whence it should never have strayed.
The Queen discarded her coat into the butler’s hands. A petite young woman with dark hair and pale skin, she had been queen only six years, yet already she had made her mark on the nation. She adored her husband, who adored his two children, and they lived an exemplary family life. Indeed, Hannah realized with a shock Her Majesty was increasing again.
Hannah looked hungrily at the Queen’s swollen belly. For some reason, pregnancy seemed a condition to be highly desired.
Stepping forward, she curtsied. “Your Majesty.”
“Miss Setterington.” With a warm smile, Queen Victoria extended her hand. “How good to see you again.”
Prince Albert stood behind her, and beyond him extended a line of the royal children held by their nursemaids, ladies-in-waiting, and gentlemen of the royal chamber all wrapped in coats, trudging up the stairs, crowding into the foyer, and dripping on the floor.
“Your Majesty, it is good to see you again.” Conscious of the need to hurry, to get all these people inside, Hannah turned to Dougald. “Your Majesty, may I introduce Dougald Pippard, earl of Raeburn?”
“Lord Raeburn, how good to meet you.” Queen Victoria walked toward the aunts.
He accompanied her. “A pleasure to meet you, also, and may I introduce the ladies whose work brought you here.”
Hannah stepped out of the way, but watched with pride as the aunts charmed the Queen and Prince Albert. The guests continued to stream in, the aunts led Queen Victoria toward the great hall where the finished tapestry hung behind its curtain, and Hannah directed the guests and the servants as unobtrusively as possible.
At last, she noticed that four of the guests stood still beside her. She turned to
them, prepared to show them the way to the great hall when she saw—
“Charlotte!”
The former Lady Charlotte Dalrumple, cofounder of the Distinguished Academy of Governesses, smiled with brilliant delight. And—
“Pamela!”
The former Miss Pamela Lockhart, another cofounder of the Distinguished Academy of Governesses, threw her arms around Hannah. “Her Majesty asked us to come along to surprise you! Are you surprised?”
“I’m…stunned.” Hannah could scarcely speak for excitement. These women were her friends, the two out of all the world with whom she had shared trials and tribulations, joys and triumphs. As Hannah went into Charlotte’s more restrained embrace, her heart overflowed with pleasure.
Over Charlotte’s shoulder she saw Viscount Ruskin looking delighted and smug as only Charlotte’s husband could look.
Pamela’s husband, Lord Kerrich, chuckled as the three women stared at each other, embraced again, and drew back.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Hannah tried to curtsy to both gentlemen while keeping her arms around her friends. “I’m so excited. So pleased. Everything has come out so well. Oh, Charlotte! Pamela!”
Ruskin folded his arms over his massive chest. “It is good to view women’s excitement.”
“Indeed.” Kerrich lifted his monocle and surveyed the little group. “Such dear friends are seldom seen.”
Hannah ignored them. Both were handsome men, but arrogant and given to bombastic self-assurance and incredible impertinence. The only trait that saved them, in her opinion, was their unceasing devotion to their wives. That, and the fact that Charlotte, with her quiet assurance, and Pamela, with her blunt outspokenness, directed their husbands when the men got too obnoxious.
From down the corridor, Hannah heard Dougald’s warm tones speaking, delivering his speech of welcome.
In fact, if one were inclined, one might say both Charlotte’s and Pamela’s husbands were cut from the same cloth as Dougald.
Hannah examined her friends more closely. “Charlotte, Pamela…pardon my curiosity, but are you two also increasing?”
Her friends exchanged glances.
“We are,” Pamela said.
“We think our babies will come at the same time.” Charlotte patted her slightly expanded abdomen.
Increasing…for just one moment, Hannah wondered if she should confess her own suspicion.
She discarded the idea. To try and explain here in the foyer…and after all, Dougald should hear the news first. Instead she said, “This is prime news, indeed. Many, many congratulations.”
“When Her Majesty received your invitation, she invited us to accompany her at once,” Charlotte said.
Pamela leaned close to Hannah and whispered, “We accepted, of course, but not just for the pleasure of your company. I confess, we were curious about your fate after discovering that you had been married for so many years.”
Hannah opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. She and Dougald hadn’t discussed when or where they would announce their marriage. Indeed, last night they hadn’t discussed anything at all. The whole night had been one long, tender consummation not of their passion, but of their love.
Although it hadn’t escaped Hannah’s notice that Dougald had never quite said the words. He had said everything else, and she was an ungrateful wretch to expect more, but a bit of uncertainty lingered.
She began to try to clarify a situation which she could not easily explain, when Aunt Isabel stuck her head around the corner from the great hall, and cried, “Miss Setterington, we are all waiting for you.”
“We have to go in.” Hannah ducked away.
“Saved,” she heard Pamela mutter.
Inside the great hall, a new, magnificent purple-velvet drapery covered the wall. Dougald stood before it with the Queen and Prince Albert. The aunts were lined up, hands folded at their waists, eyes sparkling.
Miss Minnie gestured for Hannah to come to them. “We must have Miss Setterington with us. She is our dearest girl.”
Hannah hadn’t thought the aunts could make her blush anymore, but Miss Minnie’s praise and the others’ fond smiles brought color to her cheeks. She made her way through the impatient crowd to stand with the aunts.
As they had arranged, Aunt Spring stepped forth and curtsied to Queen Victoria. In her happiest voice, she said, “Dear Majesty—”
Hannah sliced a glance at Dougald, who managed to look serious. Neither one of them had thought to tell Aunt Spring one didn’t call one’s Queen, “dear.”
“—When you were born, my companions and I were so excited by the appearance of our own Princess Royal that we determined to do something to honor you. As the years have passed, we have followed your life with delight and interest. You were crowned, you married, you had the dear little princess and prince, and through all that time we have worked on a gift for you. We, all of us, would like to present that gift to you now.”
“I would be honored,” Queen Victoria said.
Dougald nodded to the two footmen, who drew back the drapes to reveal the tapestry.
The lords and ladies gasped, then the great hall fell absolutely silent.
The great work stretched across the wall, a dazzling display of artistry in a chamber large enough and steeped with enough history to do it justice. The royal blue was sprinkled with yellow stars, a silver moon and a golden sun. The jewels spilled forth from the chest in radiant emerald, sapphire and ruby. Roses of red and white and pink intertwined with the border, and at the very center was Queen Victoria herself, resplendent in her coronation robes, with Albert and his newly woven and even features at her side.
Even Hannah, who had seen the tapestry, worked on the tapestry, worried about the tapestry, could not help but be impressed.
The aunts stood staring at the Queen.
The Queen stood staring at the tapestry
And Her Majesty was silent for so long, Hannah began to worry.
At last she stirred and turned to the aunts. In a voice that trembled, she said, “You ladies have worked on this for twenty-four years?”
“Give or take a few months,” Aunt Spring said. “I must confess, we wouldn’t have been nearly as excited if you’d been a prince.”
Her pronouncement brought a few coughs from the onlookers, and Hannah had to smother a smile.
Queen Victoria extended her hands. “I’m touched by your kindness, your generosity. Your inventiveness, your skill has no compare. On behalf of myself and the generations of English who will treasure this tapestry, I am delighted to accept this gift.”
Prince Albert said, “The tapestry will have a place of honor in Buckingham Palace.”
At a nod from Hannah, the aunts gathered around the Queen to take her hands and, inevitably, all called her “dear.”
In her clearest voice, Aunt Isabel announced to Dougald, “Miss Setterington was right. Her Majesty is no fool.”
31
Aunt Isabel had been making stentorian pronouncements all day, and she didn’t fail Dougald now. “Dear, it would seem your neighbors aren’t that worried about your reputation as a murderer.” She gestured around at the crowd that spilled out of the great hall and into every chamber in Raeburn Castle. “They all came.”
Aware that a few of those neighbors, at least, were listening, Dougald said only, “I welcome them.”
“Yes, this is a triumph for all of us.” Aunt Isabel hadn’t stopped smiling all day. Leaning closer to Dougald, she actually lowered her voice to ask, “Do you think they’ve heard the rumors about Spring’s baby?”
“I’m sure they have.”
“But it doesn’t matter, does it? Look at the dear girl, chatting with our own monarch. Her Majesty loves Spring. The neighbors won’t ever dare snub her.” Aunt Isabel took a swig of her cup. “Shallow bastards.”
Aunt Isabel, Dougald realized, had had a bit too much of the mulled wine.
Aunt Ethel came to them and locked her arm through
Aunt Isabel’s. “Minnie sent me to get you. Her Majesty wants to speak to us again.”
Aunt Isabel flashed a grin at Dougald. “Her Majesty likes me, too.”
Dougald plucked the cup from her hand. “Yes, I’m sure she does.” He suspected Queen Victoria did enjoy being called “dear” and being treated to the innocently blunt comments from these meddling women he called his aunts.
“Dougald, dear,” Aunt Ethel said, “dear Hannah is standing alone. Perhaps she’s shy. Why don’t you go rescue her?”
Aunt Ethel didn’t think Hannah was shy, Dougald knew. She was matchmaking again—or still.
He also knew that Hannah wasn’t shy, she was worried. As the guests for the reception came streaming in, she stared into the face of each one, looking for her grandparents. So far they had not arrived, but it was early yet, and the rain made the roads difficult.
Yet he had welcomed a chance to be with Hannah, and so he replied, “I’ll do that, Aunt Ethel.” Taking a glass of champagne from a passing footman, he walked to Hannah’s side and offered it, a lowly gift for his goddess.
Hannah stood in the midst of the most successful reception ever seen in Lancashire and wrung her hands. “They’re late. Why are they late?”
“The roads are muddy and difficult.” Dougald pried Hannah’s fingers loose and placed the glass within.
She stared at it as if she’d never seen champagne before. “What if they don’t come?”
“They’ll come.” Dougald knew that without a doubt. They would walk if they had to. He had taken care of the matter. He glanced up and saw the butler signaling him, and said, “In fact, I believe they must be here.”
She stood petrified, staring at nothing.
“They’re going to love you.” He now pried the glass from her frozen grip and placed her hand on his arm. “As we all love you.”
Without moving her head, Hannah looked at him. “Do we love me?”
“Yes, we do.” He put his hand over hers. “All of us love you.”
Aunt Spring must have been watching for the Burroughses, for she excused herself from the Queen and hurried to Dougald and Hannah. “Come on, dears,” she instructed, and led them toward the older couple who stood poised in the doorway. “Alice, Harold, how nice to see you again.” She pressed her cheek to Mrs. Burroughs’s, and gave Mr. Burroughs a swift hug. “I have two very important people here I want you to meet. Dougald Pippard, our dear earl of Raeburn, and Miss Hannah Setterington, my dear companion.”