The bishop was still thinking. “And there may not be an appropriate brick onboard, Patrick. You’ll have to send someone out to get a brick tonight. Yes indeed. You’d better be on your way, since you need to make all these arrangements before daybreak tomorrow.”

Despite her nervousness, Sophie almost found herself smiling. Uncle Richard was as preoccupied as she was, simply with a different appetite.

“My mother!” She looked about a little wildly.

Patrick drew her arm into his. “She’s standing by the door, Sophie. Waiting to say good-bye.”

Sophie took a deep breath and met Charlotte’s merry eyes. Charlotte drew her into a warm hug, then whispered something in her ear.

Sophie pulled back. “I couldn’t hear what you said, Charlotte.”

Charlotte bent closer and whispered again. Sophie turned a fiery red but managed to nod.

“What on earth did you tell Sophie?” Alex asked Charlotte as they watched the newly wedded pair walk toward the door.

Charlotte turned and looked up at her husband, a flare of desire in her eyes.

“Oh,” Alex said, his voice deepening. “Perhaps you should whisper it in my ear as well?”

Charlotte nodded, her eyes dancing.

There was a minuet beginning, so Alex drew his wife to him and they melted into the slow, graceful swing of the dance. After a second Charlotte put her lips next to her husband’s ear and whispered.

“What!” His voice came out louder than he had intended.

“Do you think I was too indiscreet?”

Alex bit back a laugh. “Of course not, darling. I’m sure that’s advice that every new bride should receive.” Then he paused. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make a frenzy among the gossips by kissing my wife on the dance floor.” Charlotte said nothing; only the slight uptilt of her chin and her sparkling eyes answered him.

When Sophie and Patrick reached the ballroom door, her mother and father were waiting for them.

Sophie curtsied gravely before her parents. Eloise looked at the golden head bowed before her, and her eyes swam with tears.

“Ma fille,” she said, pulling Sophie into her arms and lapsing into French. “Sois heureuse, ma chère! Je te souhaite tout le mieux pour ta vie mariée….”

“I will be happy, Maman,” Sophie promised.

Her father gave her a warm hug and then shook hands briskly with Patrick. “Take care of our little Sophie,” he said. George looked a little strained about the eyes, but otherwise he was as jovial as if Sophie were setting off for a picnic in Hyde Park.

Sophie kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Papa. I will be fine.”

As she and Patrick walked out the door, Eloise caught her breath in a sob. Startled, George reflexively put an arm around his weeping wife.

“She’ll be just fine, Eloise,” he said uncomfortably. “No need to worry. Foakes is a solid man, a good man.”