Madeline checked. “No, not just yet, but if we head that way, by the time we reach the steps it should be time to go in.”
The girls happily ranged around her, Belinda on one side, Jane on the other, with Annabel beyond.
Belinda drew breath, rather portentously. As Madeline glanced her way, she said, “About our come-outs…”
When she went no further, Madeline prompted, “What about them?”
“Well, you see”—Belinda frowned, twisting her fingers—“given what happened to Melissa and Katherine, we wondered…
well”—she glanced at Madeline—“is it usual for a just-married lady to send her husband’s sisters off that way? Just not want to have them around?” Belinda’s hazel eyes searched Madeline’s face. “We thought you might know.”
Madeline studied those hazel eyes, very like Gervase’s, then glanced at Annabel, met her blue eyes, then dropped her gaze to Jane’s eyes, recalling what Gervase had earlier told her. In that instant, she more fully appreciated what had been behind the girls’ disruptive actions.
Looking up, she drew in a slow breath, then glanced at Belinda. “I honestly don’t think you have anything to worry about. Your brother would never send you away—and if you imagine any lady he married might see you as rivals for his affection…quite aside from that being unlikely in any lady he would choose to wed, any lady who attempted to get between him and you three would quickly find she’d misjudged.”
They continued to tack slowly through the crowd. When Belinda frowned, clearly unconvinced, Madeline smiled wryly and added, “Your brother is a very strong man, not just in a physical sense but in all ways. No lady I’ve ever met would be strong enough to bend him to her purpose if that purpose was one he was set against.”
“No lady?” Jane queried. When Madeline looked down at her, she opened her eyes wide. “Not even you?”
Madeline laughed and laid a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Not even me.” Looking across the heads to the steps, she added absentmindedly, “Not that I’d wish to do anything so silly as send you three away.”
Glancing back at Belinda, she saw a small swift smile cross her face.
“No.” Belinda looked down as they neared the steps. “But that’s you—we were worried about someone else. You know us, so you’re different. Other ladies might not react to us in the same way.”
Smiling fondly, Madeline lifted her other hand to Belinda’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, reassuringly. “Any lady your brother chooses will think the same. Now hush, for there he is.”
Gervase was standing at the top of the steps. He’d seen them approaching. He scanned his sisters’ features, then his eyes narrowed and fixed on Belinda’s face.
He looked rather grim as they reached him, but to Madeline’s surprise all three girls beamed delightedly at him as they went past, lured by the promise of sandwiches.
Narrow-eyed, he turned to watch them go; slipping her arm through his, she urged him in their wake. “The spinners and weavers look to have settled without drama, thank Heaven.” As they passed into the cool of the hall, she glanced back at the mass outside. “Have my brothers come in, do you know?”
“They’re already inside.”
Castle staff balancing platters of sandwiches passed them, ferrying the fare to the trestles set up to one side of the steps, sustenance for all those who had come to help and set up for tomorrow’s big day.
Turning back, Madeline found Gervase’s grim expression had eased. He laid his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Come—the committee are lunching in the dining room.”
She let him lead her in and seat her beside him. A cold collation was laid out on the sideboard; she consented to allow him to fill her plate while she listened to the latest words from each of the committee, and added her own observations.
Despite various hiccups, everything was going well. Everything looked set for a wonderful festival.
While they ate swiftly, knowing they had to return to the chaos outside soon, she thought of his sisters and their underlying fear. She was usually so consumed keeping abreast of her brothers’ lives, she rarely had emotional attention to spare for others in the district, even Gervase’s family, her closest neighbors and nearest in station.
The three girls were seated at the end of the table in earnest conversation with her brothers. Surreptitiously she glanced at Gervase. He was helping her with her brothers; he’d certainly made her more aware of Harry’s impending maturity. Perhaps, in this, given their new closeness—their liaison—she might return the favor and make sure he properly understood the basis for his sisters’ fears.
Yet once they returned to the forecourt they were surrounded by the crowd, then separated by the demands of various helpers for direction or clarification. More peddlers and merchants were arriving with their booths and tents; the afternoon winged by in organized and happily good-natured chaos.
The sun was in the west, slowly sinking behind the wall, before the cacophany started to abate. The locals who’d helped with the stalls and trestles called good-bye and drifted home; satisfied with their arrangements, the peddlers retreated to their camp outside the castle walls, while the traveling merchants ambled off to their temporary lodgings in nearby barns and stables. One by one the committee members found Gervase and took their leave. Madeline, however, stayed to the end.
He found her with Sybil on the ramparts; as he neared, he heard Sybil say, “They were convinced they risked being bundled off to live with their Great-Aunt Agatha in Yorkshire—one can understand their horror, of course.”
Coming up with both ladies, Gervase pretended he hadn’t heard, that the whipping wind had blown the words away before he’d caught them. He smiled as they swung to face him. “All, I’m surprised to be able to report, has sorted itself out.” He met Madeline’s eyes. “You were right about the peddlers and merchants and their booths, but actual fisticuffs were avoided.”
She returned his smile, holding back her whipping hair.
The wind gusted, plastering Sybil’s light gown to her frame. She shivered. “If I’m not needed any longer, I’m going inside.” She patted Madeline’s arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear.”