Her grace smiled in response. “And you have. Completing arrangements for a house party should be my responsibility.”
“Yes, but this is a wedding. You’ve not been well, and I thought—”
“I am better now, and it’s time I started doing my duty.”
“You know I don’t care—”
The duchess placed a finger over the duke’s lips. “I will do this.”
“Well, all right. If you’re sure you don’t need me.”
“Not for this,” she murmured, brandishing the sheet. “We’ll organize the most beautiful wedding possible for Jessica. I promise. Off you go. I’m sure you have more pressing matters on the estate than fussing over me.”
“I married you so I could take care of you,” he promised before kissing her brow. The duke stood and drew in a breath. “I did promise to meet the stable master soon.”
“You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Father kissed his new wife goodbye and then strode off.
The duchess lowered her eyes to read the list again. “A driveway lined with lambs wearing cravats? Never would I allow that.”
“I had one as a pet,” Jessica confessed to the duchess. “I used to dress it up and take it for walks.”
“Like a dog,” Rebecca muttered softly.
“Crystal jugglers, gypsies to bless the marriage?” The duchess covered her lips, but it didn’t diminish the sound of her laugh. “Oh my. Well, there’s no way we can allow those, either.”
“But—”
“No, Jessica,” her grace said, tone slightly harder than she usually used. “If you want pet lambs at your wedding, you will have to appeal to your betrothed to fetch and clothe them. Gideon is tolerant, but I highly doubt he will indulge you in that, either.”
“It was funny,” Jessica protested.
“When you were a child perhaps, but not now.” The duchess smiled at Rebecca and handed the list to her. “Some of my husband’s ideas are possible, but let us not turn a wedding into a country fair. Remove the most costly and bizarre of his suggestions but ensure the wedding date is set for the sixth.”
Rebecca moved to a writing table and transferred Father’s most sedate requests to her own list. “Manageable. But only barely. There would never have been enough room at the manor for all the guests father had initially wanted to invite, either.”
“He’s not always as practical as we might hope,” the duchess lamented.
Rebecca agreed. The wedding would keep her completely occupied for over a week. Still, she rubbed her brow in anticipation of a headache to come from all this.
“I’m so sorry but I really do need your help with this,” the duchess murmured at her side.
“I would be happy to take it on for you.” She looked up at the duchess. “We’re going to need a private space to organize this wedding from. Might I move everything to the parlor I use for the next week or so? We can meet there each day to discuss progress and make decisions.”
“Anything you need is yours.” Her grace grimaced. “I’m also sure we don’t need to invite your father along at first if you’d prefer he not be included in our discussions. Nicolas can be a little excessive.”
“I have a lifetime of familiarity with my father’s excesses,” she advised.
“Good,” the duchess returned to her chair and then suddenly moaned. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Warner, Jessica, I need to be alone for a little while.”
“Are you unwell again?” Jessica asked.
Rebecca jumped to her feet and hurried her sister out the door. “Talking about being unwell inevitably brings that very result to pass,” she reminded her sister. “Could you find the address for your seamstress and bring it to me? We’ll need to write to her about your trousseau.”
Rebecca shut the door just as the duchess suddenly acquired a basin that had been secreted beneath the settee and cast up her accounts into it. Rebecca rang the bell for a servant and then moved to open a window for fresher air. When she turned back, the duchess had sprawled back into a chair, panting. Rebecca fetched a glass of water and set it down beside her.
“Don’t tell him,” the duchess begged as she mopped her own brow. “He’ll only make a bigger fuss and try to talk me back into bed.”