Chapter Twenty.

It was the most perfect of perfect days.

Bells were ringing, and the sun shone brightly through the ma.s.sive windows of Bath Abbey, warming Jenny's cheeks as Mr. Edgar escorted her up the long aisle to stand before the altar with her beloved Callum.

Jenny sighed with happiness.

It was actually happening.

She and Callum Campbell, the Sixth Viscount Argyll, were to be married on none other than Saint Valentine's Day.

Everyone said that a wedding held on such an auspicious date was a good omen. For Saint Valentine's Day, according to the all-knowing Lady Let.i.tia, was the singular day of the year that birds of like feather chose their lifetime mate.

As Jenny approached Callum at the altar, she was quite overwhelmed by the sight of silk festoons in muted Featherton purple and hundreds of ribbon-bound lavender stalks that seemed to fill the abbey.

It was a lavender-hued dream, not quite the color Jenny would have chosen, of course-a fashionable blush would have been more the thing-but nevertheless, it was a dream come true.

Standing nearest the altar was her mother, her face aglow with happiness; Miss Meredith, who seemed still to be taking copious notes, and the Featherton ladies, who stood waiting with wide expectant grins.

The church also held a dozen of Jenny's friends, service staff all, who'd somehow been clever enough to beg the day off. But most surprising to Jenny was the attendance of Bath's elevated society, highborn ladies and gentlemen, who, Jenny reckoned, had accepted the Featherton sisters' invitations merely to see if the viscount was truly marrying the scandalous Miss Jenny Penny, Lady Eros.

Jenny only smiled at this thought. Because, indeed, he was marrying her.

Still it hardly seemed real. Hardly seemed possible. Yet, here she stood, her hair simply arranged yet wreathed in brilliants, artfully shaped into sparkling rosebuds.

Jenny concentrated hard to focus only on Callum, even as her wedding gown all but called for her attention. Its design was by her own hand, and even if she did say so herself, it was certainly the most beautiful creation ever conceived.

Her gown was an overdress of silver lama on net, worn atop a silver tissue slip drenched with embroidered sh.e.l.ls and flowers. The bodice and sleeves echoed the embroidery at the hem, but was set apart with a breath of elegant Brussels lace.

The manteau was of silver tissue lined with shimmering white satin. It was trimmed with a border of embroidery to answer the handiwork on the dress, and was perfectly fastened in front with the opal brooch her father had given her so many years ago.

She felt every bit the princess-the lady, and for certain she would be by hour's end, as unbelievable as it all seemed. For as she clasped Callum's strong hands-those of the man she truly loved-he swore before G.o.d and England to love and cherish her all the days of his life.

She peered down at her hand as Callum pushed a band of gold onto her third finger, until it ab.u.t.ted the ruby and diamond betrothal ring.

A tear trickled down her cheek. But Jenny didn't care. This was the happiest moment of her entire life.

Her most precious dream had just come true.

She and Callum, the man she loved with all her heart, were married.

Late that afternoon, after the Saint Valentine's Day wedding breakfast and festivities at the Upper a.s.sembly Rooms had concluded, Jenny returned to Royal Crescent to pack the rest of her clothing and her abundance of accessories for transport to Laura Place.

"Oh, do not cry, Mama. It is not as though I am leaving Bath to move to Scotland."

"Not yet, anyway." Her mother made no attempt to silence her tearful sniffs as she slipped three pairs of gloves inside Jenny's bear m.u.f.f and placed it in the open portmanteau. "Argyll will not wish to stay in dreary Bath forever."

"Well, we shan't be going anywhere until after the baby is born." Jenny gave her head a confident nod.

Her mother's eyes brightened at the mention. "So you've told him? What did he say?"

Jenny bit her bottom lip and diverted her eyes from her mother. "Well, I haven't exactly told him... but I will. Tonight in fact."

"Oh, Jenny! How could you have waited so long?"

Jenny exhaled as she pinned her opal brooch between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s for safekeeping, then closed her new leather traveling jewel case and placed it inside the portmanteau beside the bear m.u.f.f. "What with all the excitement of the wedding, I completely forgot." She glanced sidelong at her mother to see her reaction.

"You... forgot? Jenny, do not mistake with whom you're speaking. I know you." Her mother took Jenny's hands and led her to the bed, where they sat down together. "Darling, he loves you. He will not be cross with you. But you must tell him."

"I shall." Jenny quieted until her mother's forceful glare set her tongue in motion again. "I shall tell him this eve."

The servants' bell sounded and both women looked up.

"You're wanted above stairs," her mother said. "Argyll must be here with the town carriage."

Jenny rose and closed the portmanteau.

"Go to him now, dear. I'll send George with your belongings." Her mother pecked her cheeks and drew back with a smile. "There you go. Off with you now."

Jenny dashed up the stairs and into the pa.s.sage ready to greet her new husband. But instead, her eyes met with those of Hercule Lestrange.

She smiled broadly. "Hercule! There you are. How good of you to come. Though I had expected to see you at my wedding breakfast."

The little man removed his glossy beaver hat and settled it on the table in the pa.s.sageway. "I had an investigation to complete... Jenny," he said hesitantly. "I have someone with me who I would very much like for you to meet."

Jenny tilted her head, wondering what Mr. Lestrange was up to. "Very well... but I shall be leaving for Laura Place soon."

Hercule's brows lifted high over the bridge of his nose. "Ah, but this person is already waiting in the drawing room with the Featherton ladies." He offered up his arm to her. "Shall we?"

A dreadful blend of confusion and antic.i.p.ation built inside of Jenny, but still she placed her hand over Hercule's arm and walked with him into the drawing room.

As they entered, Jenny could see Meredith and her two aunts sitting on the settee all but staring at the gentleman who sat with his back to her. Upon hearing their arrival, the gentleman rose and turned to face her.

He was a handsome man, tall and dark-haired with slashes of gray at his temples. His nose turned up slightly at the tip, not unlike her own, and his green eyes seemed to dance as he smiled down at her.

But it was his clothes that caused Jenny to marvel. He was dressed impeccably in the height of Paris fashion. The lines were clean, and the fabric was nothing less than the finest quality.

His valet must truly be a wonder, for no man could dress so well without extensive study of current modish fashion.

The Featherton sisters rose as well, and as Lady Let.i.tia pulled Meredith to her feet, Lady Viola stepped forward.

"Lady Argyll," she began, gesturing to Jenny.

Golly. Lady Argyll. For some reason, hearing herself referred to as such sent a giggle into Jenny's middle and she had to fight to prevent it from leaping from her mouth into their guest's face.

"May I present Lord Trevor of Amhurst."

The gentleman smiled again, and honored her with a truly gallant bow.

Jenny stared at him. My word, he looked familiar somehow. Still, she couldn't quite place him.

Lady Viola, likely having spotted the puzzlement in Jenny's eyes, stepped beside her. "Dear, Lord Trevor is an old family friend. He was otherwise engaged, and therefore unable to attend your wedding festivities."

Lord Trevor spoke then, his voice as smooth and silken as his ivory waistcoat. "I do regret not bearing witness to the event, but 'tis my fondest wish to offer you a gift to celebrate your union with Lord Argyll."

Jenny watched with excitement as he withdrew a small leather box from his coat and held it out to her.

Her brows lifted as she looked at it. Everyone knew that the absolute best gifts came in tiny packages like the one in his hand. Her heart began to pound.

She glanced at Lady Viola, dutifully feigning a request for permission. Then when her employer gave a nod of a.s.sent, she took the box into her right palm and lifted the lid.

Two diamond-ringed fiery opal earbobs glistened inside. Jenny caught her breath.

Lord Trevor gave an appreciative sigh as well. "They were my mother's."

"Your mother's?" Jenny turned her eyes up to his. "Oh, my lord, I could not possibly accept such fine-"

Lord Trevor reached out and folded her fingers down atop of the earbobs. "But I insist. And besides, they complement your pin so well, my lady," he said, gesturing to her opal brooch.

My lady. My lady? There was something about the way he spoke those two words. Jenny pinned him with her gaze.

This seemed to unnerve the gentleman and he looked to Lady Let.i.tia and her sister. "Well, must be off." He started past Jenny for the door, then turned and kissed her cheek. "Be happy," he said softly, yet earnestly. "'Tis my greatest wish for you and your husband." With great haste, he stepped into the hallway.

Everyone rushed through the doorway and into the pa.s.sageway. They watched as he lifted his hat from the table, then gave himself a quick appreciative look in the mirror, before turning to face them all. "Good afternoon." Then with a click of his perfectly polished boot heel, he left the house.

Jenny was utterly stunned. She turned to Hercule, who leaned against the doorjamb grinning. "He... was my-"

"Oui. Your father."

Jenny's eyes flashed upon the Feathertons. They nodded back at her.

"But, Hercule," Jenny stammered. "How did you... I mean... I didn't even know his name."

Hercule straightened and moved before her. "'Twas the brooch. When I first saw it at Miss Meredith's birthday ball, I knew I'd seen it before. It only took some time for me to realize 'twas in a portrait of Lady Trevor at Amhurst Hall."

Jenny wrinkled her nose. "Lady Trevor?"

"Your grandmother, dear," Lady Viola explained. "Your mother was engaged as a parlor maid at Amhurst Hall before she came to us. 'Twas there that she met Lord Trevor."

"But why did she never tell me this?" Jenny turned around just as her mother emerged through the door to the servants' stairs.

"Because, my darling girl, I loved him. But he was not the man your Lord Argyll has proven himself to be. And so I left Amhurst Hall in the past, where I hoped the painful memories would remain, and took away the very best part of him-you."

Jenny rushed to her mother and embraced her. "Oh, Mama. I am so sorry."

"Bah, girl." Her mother took her by the shoulders and pushed back, smiling through her tears. "Today is a joyous day for me. For my daughter has married the man she loves, and is about to start her life anew." She looked up as something over Jenny's shoulder caught her notice.

Jenny turned to see Mr. Edgar open the door for Callum and usher him inside. The young lord was smiling from ear to ear.

"Are ye ready?" he asked Jenny, very nearly hopping from foot to foot in his excitement.

Jenny was still half mute from the shock of meeting Lord Trevor. "I-I believe so..."

"Shall we all head off to Laura Place then? My staff have prepared a feast we shallna ever see equaled in this lifetime." He looked from the ladies Let.i.tia and Viola, to Meredith, who all rushed Edgar for their wraps.

Jenny slowly approached her husband, then rose up on her toes and brushed her lips across his. "Whatever are you on about, my lord?" she asked suspiciously.

"Who me?" he asked, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her the skin-tingling way Jenny decided a husband ought always kiss his wife.

The caravan of two fine conveyances left Royal Crescent just before four. But rather than thrilling at the prospect of being alone with her handsome new husband, Jenny was distracted by thoughts of the news she swore she would share this eve.

And so, instead of recounting the clothing choices of the wedding breakfast guests, a topic she would otherwise delight in exploring, Jenny gazed pensively out the carriage window as they rounded the Circus and started down Gay Street. But then the carriage turned left on George Street, then abruptly onto Milsom.

Lud, not Milsom Street. Not when her wound was so fresh. In fact, for the first time since she'd arrived in Bath, Jenny hadn't set foot on Milsom Street for four whole days.

It was simply too painful to see the empty shop that was almost hers, knowing that someone else would soon open the doors... probably to sell tools or something else completely unnecessary.

The carriage wheeled ever closer until... there it was. Jenny closed her eyes, unable to even look upon it. But then to her immense consternation, she felt the carriage stop. She snapped her eyes open as the footman let down the stairs.

"Why are we stopping here? I thought we were going to Laura Place." She tried very hard to avoid sounding bitter, but it was too difficult. She heard the bile flavoring her every word.

"Just need to stop inside a shop for a moment." Callum playfully pulled her from the carriage. "Come with me, la.s.s. I know shopping is yer pa.s.sion."

"No, you are my pa.s.sion, Callum. Take me to Laura Place and I'll prove it to you." Jenny smiled wickedly at him, hoping he would take her bait and forget his blasted errand.

But by now, the Feathertons had already disembarked from their carriage and were headed toward them. Lady Let.i.tia looked up at the linen-draped shop sign above her shop's door, swaying lightly in the chill breeze. "Looks like a new shop is to open, eh?"

Meredith glanced up too. "I wonder what it will sell?" A broad smile appeared on her face. "Perhaps antiquities; mummies packed in sarcophaguses, and temple jars filled with metaphysical elixirs."

Jenny turned to Callum, to share a roll of eyes, but he had simply vanished.

Then there was a rattling of keys, and the sound of a door opening. She spun around. There stood Callum in the open doorway of the shop wearing the largest, most foolish grin she'd ever seen.

"Callum," she began, creeping forward. "What are you doing... in that empty shop? The new owner won't be amused."

"Ye're not amused? Hmm. Somehow I thought owning yer own shop would amuse ye."

A wild jolt raced through Jenny's limbs. "What did you say?"

Lady Let.i.tia laughed. "Oh, don't be such a goose. He bought the shop for you, Jenny."

Meredith grinned. "Well, as Lady Argyll, you can't very well go on selling your creams from the kitchen door."