“Fair enough.” Reaching down, he took Gillian’s hand in his. “And the first step I need to take is to introduce my bride to my mother, father, and brothers and sisters, so they can welcome you into the family. Ready, Lady Grantham?”
Gillian took a deep breath, followed the Duchess of Avon’s advice, and smiled.
Chapter Seventeen
“And then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
King Henry VIII
Gillian smiled as Colin introduced her to his mother and father. “Maman, Father, may I present my bride, Gillian?”
Gillian curtsied to the earl and countess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
“The pleasure is ours, my dear.” The earl lifted Gillian’s hand and brought it to his lips.
Her father-in-law had once been as handsome as his eldest son, but years of hard living had left their marks. The earl’s skin was pasty white, his face and jaw bore signs of acute dissipation, and his eyes were bloodshot and drooping. He had dressed for the wedding in a well-tailored tailcoat and striped trousers, but the careful tailoring couldn’t hide the paunch that too many late nights, too much rich food, and too little physical exercise had caused. Now, the Earl of McElreath stank of brandy and tobacco and bore only a passing resemblance to his handsome son. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gillian answered, smiling at Lady McElreath. “I’m honored to be a part of the McElreath family.”
“We are honored to have you,” Lady McElreath added. “May I present my daughters, Liana and Caroline?”
The girls curtsied. “Lady Grantham.”
“Please, call me Gillian.”
“Gillian,” they replied in unison.
“Oh, Maman, look at her betrothal ring!” Liana, the oldest daughter, nudged her younger sister in the arm and pointed to Gillian’s left hand. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Gillian held out her hand, offering Liana, Caroline, and Lady McElreath a better look at the pink sapphire surrounded by the perfectly matched diamonds.
Lord McElreath leaned forward and studied the ring. “That beauty must have cost a pretty penny.” He threw his son an accusing glance.
“The price is of no concern,” Colin replied coolly. “It was a wedding gift for my bride.” He glanced at Gillian. “A token of my affection and esteem.”
“The price is of great concern,” Lord McElreath contradicted, “when you spend a fortune on your bride’s ring but refuse to help your father with his debts.”
“She was well worth the cost,” Colin reminded his father. “Especially when I’ve so little else to offer.”
“You just gave her an old and honorable title as the Viscountess Grantham,” Lord McElreath pointed out.
“The title is an honorable one,” Colin agreed, looking his father in the eye. “Unfortunately, it’s attached to a mountain of family debts I didn’t incur.”
“There’s no call to be rude to your father,” Lord McElreath admonished.
“And there was no call for you to be rude to my bride on her wedding day.” Colin dismissed his father and leaned forward to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Thank you for coming, Maman.” He nodded toward his sisters. “And for bringing the family.”
Lady McElreath turned to Gillian. “Please excuse Lord McElreath. He’s not at his best. He had a very late night last night and was not prepared to attend a wedding this early in the morning—else he wouldn’t have acquired an aching head.”
“I’m sorry about Father’s aching head,” Colin said, “but an aching head doesn’t give him the right to behave like a cad in the presence of his new daughter-in-law.”
“Your father is no cad,” Lady McElreath said softly. “He’s a gentleman.”
“Then he should remember to behave like one.” Colin glared at his father before turning his attention back to his mother. “If you will excuse us, Gillian and I have other duties to attend to.”