all arrangements for the wedding without the slightest need to consult me, and communicated only through your father.
"He seemed to want the business over and done with and as rapidly as possible—"
"I wanted it that way too, Mama," Belinda interrupted. "I'm glad he was able to get a special license. All London was gossiping about us. I'm also glad we are leaving the city, for I don't think I can bear one more loud whisper as I go by or any more angry glares from all those people."
"Umm, well, I suppose that may be his reason," answered Mrs. Presleigh. "But how can you excuse the fact that I was not consulted about anything? Why, that woman didn't even feel a need to discuss your wedding gown, of all things. I would have thought that at least in that …everything done at the speed of lightning and without even as much as a by-your-leave."
"I didn't care what gown I wore, Mama," said Belinda, remembering the dreadful gown Flora had chosen for her. It had hung loose on her body and was of so heavy a material and so lavishly embroidered with pearls and appliqués that it had tired her the few hours she had worn it.
She intended never to set eyes on that gown again, and shuddered as she recalled the awful wedding breakfast.
Thankfully, Berrington had whisked her out of the place after one excruciatingly embarrassing hour.
"But he allowed that woman Flora to oversee everything, and made certain I was excluded," her mother still protested.
Flora Liston was already on her way back to Winterhill. Belinda and Lord Berrington, however, were to spend another day in London while Berrington took care of some unfinished business.
And rather than take her to his large townhouse, he had arranged for her to spend their first wedding day and night in the company of her parents. He would collect her the following day, he had told her in the few words he had addressed to her during the wedding breakfast.
Most of his time there had been spent speaking to the wedding guests, many of whom had come up to wish him well. Dozens more guests had been able to attend the breakfast than had the ceremony and Belinda had felt her face flushed as she had been ushered into the salon amid a sea of probing faces that stared at her as though with their eyes they would tear her apart.
"In time Lord Berrington will thaw in his feelings toward you, Mama, I am hopeful of that," she said sadly, although she hardly believed it herself.
"Ah…well, I am his mother-in-law, my dear; he will eventually realize he cannot escape that fact," said Mrs. Presleigh contentedly, and her mind darting to something else, she added,
"You must call your husband either Richard or Berrington, Belinda." She now began to check Belinda's portmanteau. "It is your privilege, for you are now his countess."
Belinda winced at these words. She was quite certain she would never be able to call him that. However, she merely nodded, while Mrs. Presleigh had then embarked on a subject that made Belinda blush to her ears.
"Minnie," she had said to her abigail, "I need to talk to Belinda alone. Go check to see if the laundress has her handkerchiefs ready."
"Yes, ma'am," said the amiable Minnie.
"Now, Belinda, I must speak to you about your first wedding night with Lord Berrington…" she began when they were alone.
"Mama, I would rather not…" said Belinda, a tremor in her voice.
"Now, there is no need to panic," Mrs. Presleigh assured her daughter. "It will be an ordeal of only a few minutes and then it will be over. When Lord Berrington approaches you in the bed, close your eyes tight and think of a place other than where you are—think of that place you like to go wandering off by yourself back home. Pretend you are there , rather than on the bed."
"Why?"
"Because that way it won't hurt as much…"
"Mama," said Belinda with wide eyes, for she was still a complete innocent, " what will hurt?"
"What he is going to do to you, my dear," said her mother. "Never mind,
"He seemed to want the business over and done with and as rapidly as possible—"
"I wanted it that way too, Mama," Belinda interrupted. "I'm glad he was able to get a special license. All London was gossiping about us. I'm also glad we are leaving the city, for I don't think I can bear one more loud whisper as I go by or any more angry glares from all those people."
"Umm, well, I suppose that may be his reason," answered Mrs. Presleigh. "But how can you excuse the fact that I was not consulted about anything? Why, that woman didn't even feel a need to discuss your wedding gown, of all things. I would have thought that at least in that …everything done at the speed of lightning and without even as much as a by-your-leave."
"I didn't care what gown I wore, Mama," said Belinda, remembering the dreadful gown Flora had chosen for her. It had hung loose on her body and was of so heavy a material and so lavishly embroidered with pearls and appliqués that it had tired her the few hours she had worn it.
She intended never to set eyes on that gown again, and shuddered as she recalled the awful wedding breakfast.
Thankfully, Berrington had whisked her out of the place after one excruciatingly embarrassing hour.
"But he allowed that woman Flora to oversee everything, and made certain I was excluded," her mother still protested.
Flora Liston was already on her way back to Winterhill. Belinda and Lord Berrington, however, were to spend another day in London while Berrington took care of some unfinished business.
And rather than take her to his large townhouse, he had arranged for her to spend their first wedding day and night in the company of her parents. He would collect her the following day, he had told her in the few words he had addressed to her during the wedding breakfast.
Most of his time there had been spent speaking to the wedding guests, many of whom had come up to wish him well. Dozens more guests had been able to attend the breakfast than had the ceremony and Belinda had felt her face flushed as she had been ushered into the salon amid a sea of probing faces that stared at her as though with their eyes they would tear her apart.
"In time Lord Berrington will thaw in his feelings toward you, Mama, I am hopeful of that," she said sadly, although she hardly believed it herself.
"Ah…well, I am his mother-in-law, my dear; he will eventually realize he cannot escape that fact," said Mrs. Presleigh contentedly, and her mind darting to something else, she added,
"You must call your husband either Richard or Berrington, Belinda." She now began to check Belinda's portmanteau. "It is your privilege, for you are now his countess."
Belinda winced at these words. She was quite certain she would never be able to call him that. However, she merely nodded, while Mrs. Presleigh had then embarked on a subject that made Belinda blush to her ears.
"Minnie," she had said to her abigail, "I need to talk to Belinda alone. Go check to see if the laundress has her handkerchiefs ready."
"Yes, ma'am," said the amiable Minnie.
"Now, Belinda, I must speak to you about your first wedding night with Lord Berrington…" she began when they were alone.
"Mama, I would rather not…" said Belinda, a tremor in her voice.
"Now, there is no need to panic," Mrs. Presleigh assured her daughter. "It will be an ordeal of only a few minutes and then it will be over. When Lord Berrington approaches you in the bed, close your eyes tight and think of a place other than where you are—think of that place you like to go wandering off by yourself back home. Pretend you are there , rather than on the bed."
"Why?"
"Because that way it won't hurt as much…"
"Mama," said Belinda with wide eyes, for she was still a complete innocent, " what will hurt?"
"What he is going to do to you, my dear," said her mother. "Never mind,
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