"Iris!" He stepped forward to kiss his dear dotty mama. Her cheeks were rosy with health and her eyes sparkled brightly. Lysander breathed a sigh of relief to see her thus. That bout of pneumonia had left her thin and limp with exhaustion the last time he'd seen her.

Gemma had wanted to put off their wedding until all the Worthingtons could make the journey, but Iris had sent her a short note that had immediately changed Gemma's mind.

Yet do thy worst, old Time! Despite thy wrong

My love shall in my verse ever live young.

Shakespeare's Sonnet 19

So Gemma and Lysander had wed in Yorkshire, with Attie and Daedalus as attendants, with the eldest Gosling girl and the youngest Gosling, sturdy little Jasper, with Jennie's eyes and rolls of plump on his little legs, leading the procession from the church, tossing summer petals before the feet of the newly married couple.

The bride wore Lementeur.

They had stepped into their flower-bedecked cart pulled by Bad Pony, who had eaten his rose wreath as casually as a goat. Even Topknot had sported a voluminous bow.

They had waved goodbye to their Yorkshire community and had driven less than a quarter of an hour to Yew Manor, where they had made love on the study carpet, consumed a luncheon of cold meat and cheese, and white-washed the kitchen. Lysander smiled at the memory. All fall and winter had been devoted to indoor repairs, while the spring had given them many days of fine weather to mend the roof.

Now the house could actually manage a few guests without anyone sleeping on the floor. And a good thing it was too. "I couldn't wait," Iris was telling him. "I left them all behind at the inn early this morning to ride on the mail coach. But I'm sure they'll catch up."

“Iris?" Lysander took his mother's hand in his. "Who will catch up?"

Iris gazed into his eyes and lifted a hand to stroke her fingers along his temple and cheek. "My beautiful boy. How lovely to see you again." The tears shimmering in her eyes told Lysander that she wasn't speaking simply of a few months separation. Then she smiled brightly. "Oh, everyone! They should be here quite soon!"

Oh hellfire.

In his distraction, Iris slipped past him and pulled Gemma into a prolonged maternal hug.

Everyone? Gemma mouthed at Lysander over Iris's shoulder, her gaze wide with panic. Lysander thought for a moment, that held up ten fingers. Gemma's eyes widened further. Then Lysander held up five more. After another thought, he added in the other thumb. Gemma paled and looked a bit faint, but Lysander wasn't worried. His Gemma had been to war and back. She could handle sixteen Worthingtons any day. Or was it seventeen now?