Margaret shook her head. “We’ve never had the opportunity. I’m never alone with him.” She hesitated, nibbling her lower lip before she asked boldly, “Are you excited for the wedding night?”
Beatrice’s insides fluttered. “Of course I am. Luckily I have read enough books to prepare, because I don’t think Uncle’s going to be giving me a lecture before my wedding to tell me what will happen.”
Margaret let out a peal of laughter, which was a relief after her most serious expression but a few moments ago. She raised a hand to her cheek, mortified. “I cannot imagine it. Can you? Father coming in, sitting on your bed, patting it, and asking you to sit beside him so that he might initiate you into the mysteries of married life?”
“Oh God,” groaned Beatrice. “The horror.” She played her hand over her coiled hair, completely at ease with the subject. “I have read of animal husbandry, and I think that I shall do well tonight. After all, I understand the anatomy of it, and from books and plays, I believe it can be rather pleasurable.”
Margaret’s eyes widened with fascination. “Do you think he’ll be a ravening beast? Many plays and books do suggest that men just turn into absolute wild animals at the event.”
Beatrice laughed. It sounded a touch too loud to her own ears, but she smiled anyway. “He seems far too reasonable for that, but men are strange creatures, are they not?”
“They are,” Margaret agreed. “But if anyone can tame a beast, it’s you.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence.”
Beatrice picked up her bouquet, for the hour was fast approaching.
She never thought she’d be a part of sexual passion, but here she was about to embark on that new adventure. She only hoped that it was as gratifying as some accounts suggested. That one kiss had been so wonderful, it would be quite disappointing if lovemaking would prove a letdown. She did understand that many ladies found it something to bear.
But many accounts from women suggested it would be a duty like cleaning the house, arranging for the sheets to be washed, or the curtains to be drawn. She prayed not.
“Come,” Margaret said, picking up her gloves from the bed. “We cannot wait any longer. We must be off to the church.” Beatrice nodded and scooped up her bonnet. She contemplated the bouquet of white roses and pink camellias. “Thank you, Margaret, for making this for me. I must admit—today, especially, I miss my mother.”
“Of course you do,” Margaret replied gently.
“I’m glad I have you,” Beatrice said honestly, embracing her cousin.
She did not think of her mother as often as she used to, but on a day like this, she felt her loss. And though she was joyful and excited to unite with William and be able to do so many things, she felt a moment of melancholy.
She turned to the small portraits of her mother and father again on her dressing table.
Again, she picked it up, but this time, she pressed a light kiss to the glass. “I love you, Mama,” she said. “And you too, Papa. I know you are with me today, even if it is only in spirit.”
And with that, she turned to Margaret, drew herself up, and marched toward whatever future was to come.
Chapter Seventeen
“Stop fidgeting, man.”
Will tugged on his perfectly tailored black cuff again, then pulled at the linen shirt beneath, though it was already exquisitely arranged.
He could not stop himself.
Damnation, he could barely stand still.
“She’s not going to come,” he announced firmly, swinging his gaze up to the ornate ceiling.
“Why in God’s name would she not come?” Ben demanded, leaning irreverently against a marble column. “You agreed to marry. You have a contract. You’re essentially married already. Do you not wish her to appear? Is that it?”
Will swung his gaze to his devil-may-care youngest brother.
Bloody hell, Ben could be so aware it was sometimes harrowing.
Of course he wished her to appear, but a part of him was still deeply unsettled by the whole turn of events. He had not planned to marry so soon. So impulsively.
And that’s what this was. An impulse.
He closed his hand into a fist, willing himself to calm. To reason. It had been the right thing to do. He needed to believe that.