And Then She Fell(59)
Beaming jovially, her father met her mother’s eyes, then focused on Henrietta.
She rose as he approached.
Her father took her hand and patted it. “Well, my girl, I understand celebrations are in order. Glossup here tells me you and he wish to tie the knot, heh?”
Henrietta’s smiling gaze shifted to James’s face; in her eyes, James saw nothing but unalloyed anticipation for, and confidence in, their joint future. In their shared life.
“Indeed, Papa, we do.” Closing her hand over Arthur’s, Henrietta smiled at her father. “I’m so glad you approve.”
“Approve? Of course! James here has told me everything I need to know.” Lord Arthur cast a paternally approving glance at James. “Very good job he did of it, too. No obfuscation and all aboveboard. I have no hesitation in bestowing your hand on him, my dear—none at all.” Lord Arthur tugged her closer. “Here—come and give your father a hug. This is a happy day for us all.”
Henrietta laughed and obliged.
“Indeed, this is a joyous event!” Louise pressed forward to hug James, then drew his head down to kiss his cheek before stepping back to meet his eyes. “Welcome to this family, James—and it’s simply a delight that we already know you so well. Simon will be thrilled.”
James smiled back, pleased everything had gone so smoothly, so relatively easily; Lord Arthur had been encouraging and understanding. Being a friend of Simon’s and long known to the family had significantly eased his path. “Thank you, ma’am.” Placing a hand over his heart, he bowed. “I will do everything in my power to live up to yours and Lord Arthur’s expectations.”
Louise beamed, patently pleased, and stepped back to allow Mary to hug him.
Henrietta’s sister was jigging up and down, it seemed with sheer exuberance. She planted a quick peck on his cheek—and insouciantly whispered, “Good job!”
The door opened and Hudson swept in with a bottle of champagne and glasses. In an expansive mood, Lord Arthur handed around the glasses, then offered a toast, “To James and Henrietta!”
They all duly sipped, then Lady Louise set down her glass and sank onto the window seat. She looked up at James and Henrietta, who had moved to stand beside him. “Henrietta has told me of your need to marry by the end of the month, which means your engagement will have to be announced and celebrated before that.”
Lord Arthur humphed. “The wedding will have to be by special license, but there’ll be no difficulty there.”
His wife quelled him with a look, one that, to James, suggested that the arranging of his and Henrietta’s betrothal and wedding was Lady Louise’s domain and she wasn’t about to brook any interference. “Naturally.” Her tone was faintly haughty. “However”—she looked back at James and Henrietta—“that means we have no time to waste in setting matters in train.” She focused on James. “I’m assuming you’ll be placing a notice in the Gazette forthwith?”
He nodded. “I’ll go to their office from here. The notice will appear tomorrow morning.”
Louise nodded. “Excellent. So”—she arched her brows—“when would you like your engagement ball to be held?”
Henrietta glanced at James, met his eyes, then turned back to Louise. “How soon can we host such an event?”
Without waiting to be asked, Mary rushed to the escritoire, retrieved an appointment book, and brought it to her mother.
Receiving the book, Louise opened it and flicked through the pages, eventually pausing on one, fingertip tapping, then she looked up. “A week. Seven days from today. We don’t want your ball to clash with too many of the major events, but that evening will do admirably.” She looked at Arthur. “You may start spreading the word to the male half of the family and your friends. Meanwhile”—Louise rose—“I’ll speak with Honoria immediately, and all the others, too.” She met Henrietta’s eyes and smiled with anticipatory relish. “It’ll be a rush, but we’ll manage it.”
Turning to James, Louise added, “As for deciding the wedding day, as I understand it, as long as your marriage occurs before the first day of June, all will be well—is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll have to consult more widely before we can decide on a date”—Louise caught his eye—“but the family will want to informally celebrate your betrothal, so we’ll see you for dinner tomorrow evening, my dear.”