What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,87

her. “I’d go,” she admitted without shame. “I’d fly away wi’ ye, Graham, and ne’er look back.”

He groaned, his lips still at her ear, scorching the tender flesh. “Don’t tell me that. How can I be respectable now?”

Edith laughed breathlessly. “Dinna fash. I ken ye’ll think of something.” She cocked her head as she watched Andrews and Amelia whisper together, all eyes still on them. “Graham, surely there is somewhere they can be alone…”

“Unchaperoned?” he teased, nuzzling her a little. “Perhaps you are right. Pardon me, darling, while I tend to my hosting duties.” He kissed her again before clearing his throat and striding over to the still embracing couple.

He spoke to them softly, and then turned to the gathering with a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, our newest and most honored guest, Mr. Andrews, has something he would like to say.” He gestured for Andrews to do so.

Mr. Andrews turned to Amelia with a breathless, wild grin and said, for all to hear, “Amelia Perry, I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and only more ever since. I have waited too long to ask, but will you forgive me and be my wife?”

Tears still streaming down her cheeks, she took the hand she still held and kissed it fervently. “Yes, Edmund. Yes, yes, yes.”

Andrews swept her up again, kissing her soundly, and the ballroom as a whole cheered and applauded, several ladies wiping tears from their eyes.

Graham gave them a moment, then winked at Edith as he turned and escorted them from the room.

The music struck up again, and the dancing resumed. Edith, for one, thought her heart might burst from her chest, so filled to the brim was it.

A hand settled on her arm, and she turned to see Miranda smiling at her, eyes moist. “You’ll be next, my lamb. I feel sure of it.”

Edith exhaled a satisfied sigh. “Ye think so?”

Miranda nodded once. “And so do you, Edith. Mark my words, the next few days will be quite interesting.” She gave Edith a knowing look and moved to speak with Georgie and Izzy.

Edith looked at the door to the ballroom where Graham had disappeared, smiling in anticipation.

They had the rest of the evening together, and, if she got her wish, the rest of their lives, as well.

Chapter Nineteen

Alterations to any plans one has made can be a disruption that, in one stroke, may throw all into upheaval. It should be avoided at any cost, if possible. If not possible, one should attempt to make the best of it. Again, if at all possible. Which it may not be.

-The Spinster Chronicles, 4 January 1819

“Gray said the ball was really nice. He said you looked beautiful, and that you danced a lot, and that supper was the best one Cook has done yet.”

Edith smiled and watched the girl fiddle with wildflowers in front of her, sun in her hair. “It was lovely. I could barely dance at all after supper, the food was so delicious. I was fair to bursting, but I just couldna keep myself from completely stuffing my gob.”

Molly giggled and glanced up at her. “Scottish is funny, Edith.”

“Aye, a wee bit,” Edith admitted with a wink. “But it’s a bonny language, lass.”

“And you’re a bonny lady, mo charaid,” Molly told her, beaming proudly.

Edith ruffled the girl’s dark curls before kissing her head. “Tapadh leat, lass. It warms my heart to hear you call me friend in my own tongue.”

“Teach me more words!” Molly exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Laughing, Edith nodded. “Verra well. When you want to say ‘cheers’, you say, ‘slàinte’.”

Molly repeated the word firmly, then tipped back an imaginary glass of something or other.

“Slàinte,” Edith repeated, doing the same.

“What else?” Molly demanded as she turned towards Edith, flapping the skirts of her pale blue calico before settling her hands in her lap. “Tell me something I can tell Gray.”

Edith thought about it for a moment, then said, “Teaghlach. It means family.”

Molly tried the word, but fumbled around it, making herself giggle. “My family is strange,” the girl admitted. “Aunt Ellie is my great-aunt, but she’s not that old. Gray is not my papa, but he sometimes acts like he is. I don’t have my mama or papa anymore…” She looked down at her fingers, the short, uneven nails tinged green from her toying with flower stems. “I barely remember them now.”

“That canna be easy for ye,” Edith murmured softly. “I havnae seen my mother or father in years, and sometimes I miss them very much.