The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,112
Godfrey noted Kemp and the staff, all beaming as they ferried around trays of tea and cakes. At the last, he found Maggie chatting with a group of local young ladies while sliding surreptitious glances at Carter Cynster.
Godfrey hid a faintly cynical smile; Maggie might be dreaming, but at least she had good taste.
She was also thoroughly happy, almost as radiant as Ellie. Being Ellie’s principal bridesmaid and shouldering the duties Mary, Stacie, Felicia, and Sylvia had coached Maggie in had transformed Maggie, too. She was no longer so wildly coltish—or at least that side of her had been tempered by a newfound appreciation of the world beyond the Hall. Maggie was now looking forward to spending the upcoming Season with her aunt, Lady Camberford; with Mary and Stacie insisting on acting as pseudo-aunts as well, Godfrey felt certain Maggie would have an amazing Season.
“What are you thinking?”
Godfrey glanced at Ellie and found himself the focus of a faintly intrigued gaze. He glanced once more around the room. “I was just thinking that your family—your father, Harry, and Maggie—and the staff here as well, seem to have…” Not quite sure of what he wished to say, he gestured.
“Turned some sort of corner?”
He nodded. “Yes—as if our wedding has signaled a new dawn, somewhat like spring after winter.” He met her eyes. “Is it fanciful or vain to think that our marriage has, at least in part, been a catalyst for that?”
She studied his eyes, then gently smiling, shook her head. “I would say that our marriage is the much-desired culmination stemming from the critical incident that enabled everyone here to change—to embrace a fresh outlook on life.” Her smile deepened, and on his arm, she leaned closer. “In case you’re wondering, that critical incident was you arriving at the Hall.”
When he opened his mouth to gainsay that, she pressed her fingers to his lips. “When I was waiting for you to arrive, I had a vision of you as a knight on a white charger, and so you proved to be. You swept in and protected us and steered us through a difficult time to this”—she glanced fleetingly around—“this happiness, this splendor. And I’m not the only one to think so. I heard Papa say that he owed the National Gallery and your Mr. Eastlake his heartfelt thanks for sending you to us.”
A warm glow swelled in Godfrey’s chest. His eyes on hers, he mouthed against her fingers, “Thank you. There is nothing so wonderful as feeling needed and appreciated as well.”
When she smiled and lowered her hand, he went on, “But as to thanks, perhaps we all owe our ultimate thanks to your old Uncle Henry. Without his farsightedness, none of this would have occurred.”
Ellie laughed and raised her glass, and Godfrey raised his, and they clinked the rims. “To old Uncle Henry,” they chorused and drank.
Surveying the joyful crowd gathered to celebrate their nuptials, Ellie was struck—again—by the sense of inclusion, of being embraced into a large, noisy, rambunctious, supportive, and protective family. She hadn’t spoken lightly when she’d named Mary, Felicia, Sylvia, and Stacie—her new sisters-in-law—as the sisters she’d never had. There’d been an instant bonding, an immediate recognition of having the same values, the same fundamental aspirations and aims. And out of that, faster than she would have imagined possible, had grown trust of the sort she’d previously thought took years of shared experience to forge.
She had that now, a strong and stalwart group of ladies at her back. With their support, she felt she could face the world—even the haut ton—and weather any and all challenges the future might hold.
She looked across the room—at the painting that Mary and the others had insisted be given pride of place above the mantel of the large fireplace halfway down the long room. Carter Cynster was presently standing before it; judging by his gestures, he was lecturing a trio of older ladies on the painting’s finer points.
“I still find it difficult to take in that Ryder and Mary managed to persuade Count Wurtzberg to return the Albertinelli.”
Godfrey chuckled. “While I’m sure Ryder was appropriately intimidating, it was undoubtedly Mary who carried the day. Once she learned that the count doted on his daughter and was exercised about her chances of making a good match, she knew exactly on what front to mount her campaign.”
Mary had induced the count to do the right thing and return the Albertinelli to the Hinckleys in return for seeing his daughter make her