would accompany Jane and Pelham. He had rather hoped the four younger folks could go together, but it was no matter. Pel could not be making up to Jane with the other ladies in the carriage. He, on the other hand, had Aurelia to himself.
There was no lovemaking during the trip, however. Aurelia was concerned lest she not make a grand enough impression on the parish.
“My bonnet is from Madame Lanctot’s,” she said. “Do you think it pretty?” It looked like a giant steeple covered in blue feathers and did not suit her in the least, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“It is lovely, my dear,” he said.
“I want to be the best-dressed lady in church, Nick, so you will be proud of me.”
“My pride in you doesn’t rest on bonnets,” he said, smiling at her anxiety. “No one will outdo you, never fear. You will quite take the shine out of me in my uniform.”
“Oh no! The red will stand out a mile. You look so handsome, Nick.”
“I feel like a demmed fool, but you are right. The parish will expect one look at the outfit.”
The old Norman church stood like a bastion on a hilltop, surveying the carriages and pedestrians who answered the summons of its pealing bells. The ladies of the parish had plundered their conservatories and the countryside to provide the altar with flowers and holly. For this special festival, large red velvet bows graced the ends of the pews.
Miss Aurelia caused a great sensation in the highest poke bonnet ever seen in the parish when she was led up the aisle to Goderich’s box, but she took second place to Colonel Morgan. He wore not only the uniform, but the aura of a returned hero, and the next lord of Clareview. The Reverend Saintbury welcomed Colonel Morgan home, and performed the service satisfactorily. He delivered the sort of sermon expected of him on this occasion: short, with more of rejoicing at the holy season than harping on duty and sin. That would be taken care of during Lent. Mrs. Lemmon’s piebald bonnet nodded in approval.
Nicholas felt uncomfortable with the parish making such a fuss over him after church. He was quick to divert attention from himself by presenting Miss Aurelia, who clung to his arm, blushing prettily.
“I felt just like a princess!” was her artless comment when they finally reached the seclusion of their carriage. She behaved like one, too, waving and smiling with great condescension from the window at the crowd who peered in, eager for one last look at Nick and his bride-to-be.
“Perhaps you are right about spending Christmas here, Nick. We would not have received so much attention in London,” she said.
“I wish we had not received so much here. I am not comfortable on a pedestal. I’m afraid of falling off.”
“I like it. It makes me feel special,” she said.
The minute he was home, Nick changed into his blue jacket and buckskins. Lunch was a hasty meal, to leave the servants free to prepare the grander feast to come that night. He tried to get up a skating party for the afternoon, but had scant success. Pelham could not be pried from the grate, and Jane stayed with him. She actually wanted to go, but could not like to tag along like a third wheel with the betrothed couple.
Aurelia seemed keen for the outing. This time she did not hesitate to set aside her bonnet and bundle up warmly in shawls and mittens. She was learning to adapt to country life, and even taking some pleasure in it. Once they had left, Jane became restless. It was a beautiful day. The sun gleamed on white snow with a blinding light.
“Let us go for a short walk, Pelham,” she suggested. “You will want to work up an appetite for dinner.”
“I find sitting by a fire gives me a good appetite,” was his reply.
“It also gives you a few extra pounds.”
“Why don’t you go for a little stroll if you feel like it? I can watch you from the window.”
“Very well. You can practice the wedding ceremony while I am gone,” she said, and went to
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia