A pretty pink blush spread across Mariana’s porcelain skin—one Callie would have envied for its demureness and evenness if she hadn’t lived with such perfect flushes for her entire life. “Callie! I can’t believe it! I’ve been pinching myself all day!” Mariana flew across the room and threw herself into the leather chair opposite her sister. In a dreamy, dazed voice, she continued, “He proposed! Can you believe it? Isn’t it wonderful?”
“He” in this case was James Talbott, the sixth Duke of Rivington and the single most coveted catch in all of Britain. Young, handsome, wealthy, and titled, the duke had taken one look at Mariana at a preseason ball and become quite thoroughly infatuated. A whirlwind courtship had followed, and the duke had arrived at Allendale House that morning to ask for her hand in marriage. Callie had been barely able to contain her amusement at Rivington’s nervousness; for all his title and wealth, he had been obviously eager for Mariana’s answer—a fact that had only served to endear him further to Callie.
“I can, indeed, believe it, sweet.” She laughed. “He arrived with stars in his eyes…very similar to the ones in your own right now!” Mariana dipped her head shyly as Callie continued, “But you must tell me! How does it feel to have caught a man who loves you so very much? And a duke no less!”
“Oh, Callie,” Mariana gushed, “I don’t give a farthing about James’s title! I care only for James! Is he not the most wonderful, pillar of a man?”
“And a duke no less!” Both women turned in surprise at the statement, spoken in a shrill pitch of barely contained excitement from the doorway of the room. Callie sighed as she recalled what had sent her into hiding earlier in the day.
Her mother.
“Callie! Is it not the most wonderful news?” Wryly wondering just how many times she would have to answer that particular question that day, Callie opened her mouth to reply. Not quickly enough, however. “Why, Rivington is deeply in love with Mariana! Can you imagine? A duke! In love with our Mariana!” Again, Callie began to answer, only to be cut off. “There is so very much to do! A wedding to plan! A betrothal ball to host! Menus to design! Invitations to send! Not to mention Mariana’s gown! And trousseau! Oh! Mariana!”
The utter bliss on the dowager countess’s face was rivaled only by the utter terror on Mariana’s. Callie bit back a smile and entered the fray to rescue her sister. “Mother, Rivington only proposed this morning. Don’t you think we should allow Mariana some time to enjoy this momentous occasion?” Laughter entered her tone as she continued, offering a knowing look to her sister, “Perhaps, a day or two?”
It was as though she had not spoken. The dowager countess pressed on, her volume becoming more and more earsplitting. “And you, Callie! We shall have to think carefully about what kind of gown you shall wear!”
Oh, no. The Dowager Countess of Allendale was many things, but a reliable modiste for her elder daughter was not one of them. If Callie did not provide a distraction for her mother soon, she would be destined to attend her sister’s wedding in a feathered monstrosity complete with matching turban.
“I think we should tackle first things first, don’t you, Mother? Why not hold a small celebratory dinner party this evening?” She paused, waiting to see if her mother would take the bait.
“A wonderful idea!” Callie let her breath out slowly, pleased with her quick thinking. “We should! It will be family only, of course—because we must hold the official announcement for the betrothal ball—but I think a dinner tonight is just the thing! Oh! So much more to do! I must send invitations out and speak with Cook!” The dowager countess swiveled around and rushed to leave, propelled by her excitement. At the entrance to the room, she turned back abruptly. Unable to contain her exuberance, her face red and her breathing heavy, she exclaimed, “Oh! Mariana!” And, with that, she left.
In the silence that followed their mother’s departure, Mariana sat stunned by the scene that had just taken place. Callie couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t think it would be easy, did you, Mari? After all, our mother has been waiting thirty-two years for a wedding, since Benedick was born. And now, thanks to you, she’s got one.”
“I don’t think I can survive this,” Mariana said, shaking her head in bemusement. “Who was that woman?”
“A mother with a wedding in her future.”
“My God,” Mariana spoke, dazed. “How long do you think she’s going to be like that?”
“I can’t be certain, but I’d guess at least the season.”
“A whole season! Is there a way out of it?”
“There is one,” Callie paused for dramatic effect, thoroughly enjoying herself.
Mariana pounced. “What is it?!”
“Do you think Rivington would consider Gretna Green?”
Mariana groaned in anguish as Callie dissolved into laughter.
This was going to be an extraordinarily entertaining season.
This was going to be the most painful season of her life.
Callie stood at the corner of the sitting room, where, after dinner and postmeal rituals of cigars for men and gossip for women, the entire family had resumed showering Mariana and her duke with well-wishes. Dozens of candles cast a lovely soft glow over the room’s inhabitants, transforming the space into an intimate scene. Ordinarily, Callie adored events that could fit into the sitting room, for they were typically cozy, happy occasions that made for warm memories.