Dear Diary,
I wish I knew what to expect on
the wedding night. I'm not sure if
I'm more nervous about the wedding
or the night to come.
Angel nervously twirled the ring on her finger as she looked out the window of the carriage nearly two weeks later. A tight knot in her stomach reminded her of the impending wedding. Tomorrow. She could scarcely believe it. In only a day, she would be Nathaniel's wife.
The ceremony would take place at a church in the small village of Bridlewood to which parish Davenhall belonged. Both Nathaniel's estate and that of Wortham's family bordered the village on opposite sides. The decision had been made for most of them to stay at Wortham's the night before the wedding while Mrs Grey had travelled to Davenhall a few days earlier to prepare for the wedding breakfast. It was a kind gesture from Wortham's father, the Duke of Ashbrook, to allow them to stay. And necessary, as James had blankly refused to let her sleep in Nathaniel's house before they were married. Which was unreasonable, but that was James right now. Unreasonable.
They had set off from London the previous morning in two carriages. She with her brother, Jessica, and Wortham while Nathaniel rode with his other two sisters. He would bring them to Davenhall and their aunt before coming to Holcombe Hall for the night, while Jessica had opted to remain by Angel's side for the entire trip.
The Duke of Ashbrook was fond of Nathaniel and had offered his estate for any guests coming from London and needing a place to stay for the night. There shouldn't be too many, as it would be a small wedding. Angel didn't know anyone other than the Howertys, and Nathaniel had only invited his closest friends. If she was honest, she was quite relieved about the smaller size. She didn't think she would have been comfortable with a grand London wedding.
Bridlewood and the two estates surrounding it were two days' ride from London, and they had spent last night at an inn along the way. It hadn't been bad, but she looked forward to sleeping in a proper bed without having to hear people walking through the hallway at all hours of the night. And the following night, she would sleep in a new bed. Her marriage bed. The thought made her shiver. The idea of sharing a bed with Nathaniel was both terrifying and enticing, partly because she didn't know what to expect. But if it was anything like what she had experienced so far, she was rather certain she would enjoy it.
Jessica put down the book she was reading and looked outside. They'd been in the carriage for several hours already, and Angel hoped they would reach the Holcombe estate soon because her bottom was sore from a long time sitting.
"I think we're at the edges of the estate now, aren't we?" Jessica asked.
Wortham, who sat on the opposite seat next to James, leaned forward to have a look. "Yes," he agreed. "We should come up around the lake soon."
"There is a lake?"
"A lovely lake," Jessica said with a smile. "When there's a warm summer, the water is warm enough to swim in."
"It's not a big one," Wortham said before giving Jessica a teasing glance. "That it's placed on the Holcombe estate and not Davenhall stopped none of the Howertys from making use of it."
"The duke said he didn't mind," Jessica defended herself.
"Did he?" Wortham raised a dark eyebrow.
"Well. He never said he did mind."
Angel frowned, confused. "I thought you all knew each other as children? Surely the duke didn't mind his son's friends making use of the lake?"
Wortham chuckled. "I doubt he knew they used it. But I'm certain he wouldn't have minded seeing as they're of noble blood and not miserly children from the village. His words, not mine."
"Pensington and Wortham didn't meet until they were at Eton together," James said. "They never knew of each other's existence before then. It's where we all met and became friends."
"My father wasn't one to take part in the social swirl." Wortham shrugged. "The first decade of my life I spent together with nursery maids and tutors."
"Poor little Wortham," Jessica teased. "All alone with no one's braids to pull."
"I never pulled your braids."
"No, you set them on fire."
Wortham shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That was an accident."
Angel couldn't help staring. "He set your braids on fire?"
"I did not," Wortham said, crossing his arms over his chest while glaring at Jessica. At that moment, he reminded Angel very much of a petulant four-year-old.
"I'm sure he didn't mean to." Jessica chuckled. "We were all playing with candles and he got too close to me."
"Not as smooth with the ladies back then as you are now, eh?" James grinned.
Wortham let out a dramatic sigh and held up his hands. "I concede. I did set your braids on fire, but it certainly wasn't intentional."
"I forgive you," Jessica said with a little laugh. "Just don't do it again."
"It's what, almost ten years ago?" Wortham said with a dark look at her. "I assure you that my finesse has quite improved."
The comment made Jessica blush, and she quickly turned her head towards the window. Nudging Angel with her elbow, she pointed outside. "Look, there's the lake."
Leaning across her friend to look outside, there was indeed a small lake with its blue water sparkling in the summer sun. She could easily imagine the Howertys as children running into it, splashing each other and having swimming contests.
"The weather has been good so far this summer," Jessica said. "I bet the water is warm enough for us to swim."
"I'll warn my father so he can post guards," Wortham muttered.
"Do you swim, Angel?" Jessica asked, ignoring the earl.
"No, I never learnt how."
"You didn't?" James stared at her.
She shrugged. "No one was there to teach me."
"Don't worry. We'll teach you," Jessica promised.
"Pensington can provide private tutoring," Wortham said, making both Angel and Jessica blush and James glare. "What?" he said innocently. "I'm sure he could."
"I think Pensington and I should reconsider allowing our sisters to be in your presence," James muttered.
Wortham laughed. "I'm not that bad."
"No comment."
Turning to Jessica, Wortham gave her one of his most charming smiles. It rather amazed Angel that her friend didn't faint. The man really had a compelling smile. If she'd not been in love with Nathaniel, she wasn't certain that she wouldn't have ended up with a crush on the roguish earl.
"You don't mind my company, do you, sweetheart?" he asked Jessica while still smiling at her.
Jessica didn't faint, but she seemed flustered. "I... Well..." She stopped herself short and scowled as Wortham winked at her. "You are a scoundrel, Jacob Hurst, and you know it."
"You wound me, my lady." He touched his chest above the heart. "I am merely misunderstood."
A very unladylike snort was the only response to that statement.
"Ah, we're finally getting close," James said, sounding relieved as the carriage turned around the lake.
Angel looked outside and was astonished by the beautiful mansion that came into view. It was huge. She'd known that Wortham's family was old and wealthy, but she hadn't realised he'd grown up in such a splendid place. As they came around the lake, the front of the manor came into view; a beautiful construction of red brick and limestone with curved Dutch gables and turrets, and two service wings, all framed by massive yew hedges.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Jessica said. "Holcombe Hall is one of the most breathtaking places I've seen."
"It's beautiful," she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the manor.
"Quite a large estate, if I remember," James said.
"Nearly three thousand acres," Wortham replied indifferently. "With twenty-odd farms supporting the great house."
"Davenhall is only a few hundred," Jessica said. "But I think that's more than enough."
"My family bought up or married into most of their surrounding land," Wortham said with a self-mocking tone. "We've sure done well for ourselves."
"When were you last home?" Jessica asked shrewdly.
He looked outside, his eyes on the house as they approached. "Five years ago."
The carriage brought them up to the entrance, where a footman came forward to open the door for them. Wortham looked as if he was about to face the executioner as he sighed and exited the carriage right after James. After helping the ladies down, they all walked towards the house.
Curious, Angel leaned a little closer to Jessica and quietly asked, "Why has Wortham not been home for so long?"
"I heard that he and his father had a falling out," her friend told her. "But I don't know the details."
They entered the manor into what Jessica said was The Great Hall, and the name certainly suited. It was a large hall spanning two floors, with a beautiful marble floor and a grand staircase at the far wall leading up and splitting in the two directions of the house. Above the staircase, a large window of stained glass demanded one's attention, allowing an abundance of afternoon light into the hall.
"What a spectacular house," Angel mumbled.
"It's a bloody mausoleum," Wortham muttered. "It's impersonal and made only to impress others. I always preferred Davenhall, it's much more personal."
"He's right," Jessica agreed. "This is a beautiful house, but Davenhall is a home."
"I can't wait to see it." She really looked forward to seeing the Howertys' home. Nervous jitters travelled over her skin at the realisation that it would be her home too after tomorrow. Like any young lady of her age and background, she had received schooling in how to run a household, but it wasn't the same as actually standing at the precipice of having to do it. Fortunately, she would not be alone, since Mrs Grey and all of Nathaniel's sisters would live with them. The thought made her slightly less nervous.
An older gentleman came walking down the stairs and it was easy to see that he was Wortham's father as they were quite similar both in build and looks. However, where Wortham's hair was still fully dark brown, his father's was sprinkled with salt, and his eyes seemed grey rather than blue.
"Welcome to Holcombe Hall," the duke said as he reached the floor of the entrance hall. Moving between them, he greeted his son with a certain stiffness, then moved to greet James and place a kiss on Jessica's cheek, to finally reach Angel.
"I don't believe we have been introduced," he said, prompting James to do so.
"Angel, please let me introduce the Duke of Ashbrook. Your Grace, this is my sister, Miss Angelique Grafton."
"Pleased to meet you, Your Grace," she said shyly and curtsied.
"The pleasure is all mine," the duke said, taking her hand and bowing slightly over it. "I'm glad to see that Pensington has found himself such a lovely young lady to take as his wife. I can only wish that Jacob will be so lucky."
A groan could be heard from a few feet away. "And it starts already."
The duke ignored his son and placed Angel's hand on his arm. "Please allow me to escort you to the guest rooms. I'm certain you're all tired and would like to rest before supper."
"You have a wonderful house, Your Grace," Angel timidly told him as they walked through the richly decorated hallways to get to the west wing where the guest rooms were located.
"Thank you, Miss Grafton." The duke bestowed her with one of his rare—if one was to listen to Wortham—smiles, which took ten years off his face. "Holcombe has been in the family for three hundred years and I hope it will remain so for many more to come."
"I'm sure you must be proud of it."
"I am indeed. Hopefully, I will eventually get a grandson who can continue the family line. Since I was only ever blessed with one son, Jacob needs to find a wife soon to make sure our line doesn't die out."
"And people wonder why I never visit," Wortham muttered behind them, again being ignored by his father.
As they reached a place where two hallways met, the duke turned to Wortham for a moment. "I believe you will go in that direction"—he nodded towards one hallway—"to find your room. I will bring the guests to theirs in the guest wing."
"Of course, Father." Wortham executed a mocking bow before walking away towards the private family quarters.
The manor house itself seemed built more or less like a square with the south front the tallest and the other sides a little lower, giving the slight impression of a castle. The two service wings, the duke told Angel, had been added at a later stage to house the kitchen and the servants' quarters. Every part of the house she saw was decorated with fine silk wallpapers and polished wood or marble floors. Anyone could see that the Duke of Ashbrook was a wealthy man.
Finally, having reached the guest bedrooms, the duke bid them a good afternoon and left them to freshen up or take a nap before supper. Effective footmen had already brought their luggage upstairs, and maids were already unpacking the bags. Angel waited for them to finish before lying down on the enormous bed to rest for a moment. Despite having been sitting all day, she was surprisingly tired. It was amazing how exhausting it could be to ride in a carriage. She doubted her ability to relax enough to doze off with her nerves frayed with anxiety.
She was wrong, and a few moments after closing her eyes she was fast asleep, wedding nerves or not.
~~~~~~