A Wedding In Springtime(119)

“Yes, but there are more orphans in London. We could take care of them all!”

Grant’s eyes flew open, and he propped himself up on an elbow. “Wait, wait. All the orphans? We can’t take care of all of them!”

“How many can there be?”

“Lots! More than I have estates to fill. Now don’t even think it. Genie, aww don’t look that way, all right, all right fine. We’ll rescue as many as we can.”

“I’m glad you decided to put God in the center of our marriage, so we can be used to provide hope to others,” said Genie.

“Don’t remember saying that.”

Genie held up her hand showing her ring.

“Didn’t know God intended me to rescue urchins,” grumbled Grant.

“You didn’t know God intended me for you either.” Genie smiled again.

“Good point,” declared Grant. “Maybe God knows what he’s doing.”

“Good night, my dear husband.” Genie snuggled up to him again and closed her eyes.

“One thing!” This time it was Grant jarring her awake. “Important. I’ll beggar myself caring for urchins, but I will not do this.”

“What is it?” asked Genie.

“Mornings. Don’t do them. Tried it once, ended up locked in a cellar. Won’t go there again.”

“Then I shall be forced to accept your schedule and sleep until teatime.” Genie closed her eyes and did just as she promised.

***

Pen took a deep breath of the cool night air, the scent of violets filling her lungs. “You have done a beautiful job.”

“Thank you. I think it turned out well.” Marchford motioned for Penelope to sit on a stone bench in the garden and sat on another bench across the path from her.

“What a night,” sighed Penelope.

“Everything went according to plan,” declared the duke.

Penelope raised an eyebrow.

“The revised plan,” amended Marchford. “You did well, organizing things.”

“You did well as the master of ceremony,” praised Pen. “I am happy, and perhaps a little relieved, with how things transpired. The new Mr. and Mrs. Grant seem well pleased with each other.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Grant willingly got leg shackled.”

“Agreed! And Lady Louisa seems content with her choice of grooms.”

“I am abundantly pleased for her.”

“As well you should be, since now you do not have to be noble and marry her.”

Marchford stretched out on the stone bench, breathing in the cool fragrant air of the garden. “Yes, everything went according to my plan.”

“Except now you are unmarried, unattached, and in the middle of the London season,” reminded Penelope.

Marchford sat bolt upright. “Good heavens! What have I done?”

“Pleasant dreams, Your Grace.”