"That was- Oh, words fail me."
She laughed and kissed him. "Then let's see if I can find anything else to do to render you speechless."
Blake was silent for the rest of the night apart from groans of delight, thrilled that his future wife had such a vivid imagination.
Arabella was the one rendered speechless the next day, however, when she had an unexpected visitor in the form of Rosalie Stanton.
After their magical night together full of surprises and love, Blake and Arabella had dragged themselves from the bed to bathe and change for their ceremony.
He had been right, of course. Everything was perfect. The Jeromes had all seen to that, with some help from the Rakehells and their wives.
Thomas had agreed to be groomsman, and Ellen and Georgina were maids of honour, paired off with the two Neville cousins, who had taken her news much better than she had ever anticipated.
Mr. Jerome had given her away, and at the end of the service, performed by Jonathan in the ornate family chapel decorated in red velvet and gold, there almost wasn't a dry eye at the ceremony.
Blake had put the ring on her finger and kissed Arabella until they were both dizzy. She had known in an instant that this had been meant to be from the first.
They belonged together, loved each other heart and soul. Nothing would ever separate them again, she vowed.
The wedding breakfast and dance were set up in the ballroom. There were the usual speeches and toasts, which the newlyweds sat through impatiently, eager to be alone with each other once more.
Neither had seen the other looking so wonderful. The ensembles they wore were the same as they had been the evening they'd first declared their love for one another, but the nights they'd spent in each other's arms had made them absolutely radiant with joy.
Philip had been most enthusiastic in his congratulations, and said, "Do us a favour, will you? Just go now. Never mind the party. Start your wedding trip now."
"Philip, I never took you for such an old romantic," Blake laughed, all thoughts of their former rivalry evaporating in the face of his happiness.
"Not romantic. A fatalist. We're all running out of time."
Geoffrey Parks strolled up to offer his congratulations. "Sorry I can't stay longer, but I have my marching orders. Coming, Philip?"
Arabella raised her brows in surprise. "Leaving so soon?"
"Young Parks here is in need of a lift to Town, and I have some pressing business in Hertfordshire which can't wait."
"Hope she's worth it, whoever she is," Arabella said with a wink.
"Not this one, but soon…"
She stared after him. Rake? Madman more like. Nothing he said ever seemed to make any sense any more.
He took her hand and kissed it. "Look after yourself. And remember, appearance is not reality. Trust in Blake. He loves you. Goodbye, and good luck."
A strange uneasy feeling ran through her. "We will see each other again, won't we, Philip?"
He bowed. "That's up to you, and the gods."
She turned to speak to Blake, but he had gone to speak to one of the servants.
She saw Molly the little serving maid peep into the room and nod. To her? One of the Jeromes? She thought Molly was looking at her cousin Adam, but then she beckoned to her.
Arabella went over to the door of the ballroom. "If you please, Miss. There's someone here to see you."
"Who is it, Molly?"
"They didn't give a name. They're in the small parlor."
"Where is Dr. Sanderson?"
"He has a patient in the library."
She frowned. On his wedding day?
She sighed. She had no reason to be upset. It had to be an emergency. "Very good. Thank you."
She went to the small sitting room, and came face to face with Rosalie Stanton. She tried to leave the room, but the older woman grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her in, slamming the door shut behind her.
"So you've married him, you little fool. How long do you think you can keep him? A man like that, who can have his pick of any woman? Any of the experienced and skilled professional women he works with at the clinic, for example. You're outclassed, my dear. You couldn't hold a candle to me."
"I'm not listening to this. He's good and decent, and he's married me, not you."
"He's lied to you. Carried on with me right under yours and Leonore's nose. And you've met a few of his other conquests. Just a handful. I can hunt up the rest, if you like. We can fill the Upper and Lower Rooms at Bath," she said with a toss of her head.
Arabella's eyes flashed fire. "Did that include the charming Lady Cavendish?" she asked, thinking of the faded beauty who had to be at least sixty.