Page 126 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
They circled the room, then Gray observed, “James is nearing a critical age.” He met Izzy’s eyes. “Why not arrange for your mother not to be available to host him in town and, instead, have him divide his time between Lyndon Hall and the Grange? Between us and Julius and Dorothy, I doubt James will have time to develop a taste for that particular sport, and if you wish it, when the time is right, I’m willing to speak with him about my experiences.” He met Izzy’s eyes. “I’m certain the picture I paint will make James think three times before engaging in any serious game of chance.”
Relieved, she smiled. “Thank you.” When he urged her closer, she obliged and laid her head on his shoulder. She studied his profile from close quarters, then breathed, “I’m very glad you came home.”
He cast her a sidelong glance. “So am I.”
Earlier, Donaldson had taken several photographs of the wedding high table and of Gray and Izzy ceremonially cutting the tiered wedding cake. Now, set up in one corner by the windows, Donaldson and Digby were taking photographs of those of the guests who wished to pose.
Seeing some of those participating, Izzy grinned. “I had no idea the older generation would be so taken with being photographed.”
Gray was smiling at the sight of Lady Matcham settling herself on the posing chair as if it were a throne. “They want to leave something for their descendants to remember them by.” He tipped his head. “It’s not a bad idea.”
Inevitably, Gray and Izzy found themselves with their peers—Devlin, Therese, Martin, Louisa, and Drake—discussing Gray’s plan to stand for the local seat.
“I’m fairly certain we’ll see a declaration within the next few weeks,” Devlin said. “Lansdowne is making concerned noises, and he’s one you can be sure will read the wind correctly.”
Drake nodded. “Russell’s ministry is on its last legs—he’ll be gone inside of a month—and that means we’ll be heading to the polls sometime in the middle of the year.” He nodded at Gray. “You’d best get ready.”
Gray had made the decision to stand as an independent, and with everyone there, including his parents and brother and sister-in-law, ready to support him, along with the additional backing Izzy could bring to bear, while he felt sensibly nervous, he was also reasonably confident he would win through. He inclined his head to Drake and Devlin, then shared a smile with Izzy. “We’ll be ready. I’m looking forward to the challenge.”
Standing on the edge of the group, Martin surreptitiously tugged his sister’s sleeve. When Therese glanced questioningly at him, he lowered his head and his voice to ask, “Do you have any idea where Gregory is? I tried calling at his lodgings twice, but no one seemed to be there, and none of the others in town have seen him recently.”
“Ah.” Therese turned to face him. “I heard from Mama that Timms—” She broke off and looked inquiringly at Martin. “Do you remember Timms?”
“Of course. She always fed me ginger biscuits. She’s Minnie’s companion.”
“Was.” Therese squeezed Martin’s arm. “Minnie passed on years ago, just after you went off. In her will, she left Bellamy Hall and much of her wealth to Timms, more or less in a caretaker capacity, on the understanding that when Timms passed, she would leave the hall and the funds to keep it up to whichever of Mama’s or Uncle Gerrard’s children Timms judged was most in need of the legacy. Timms died just before Christmas, and she willed Bellamy Hall and the funds to Gregory.”
Martin blinked. “Well, that makes sense. Of the four of us, he’s the one with the least other responsibilities, and Frederick and William are far too young.”
“Indeed. So I suspect that Gregory has gone off to Bellamy Hall to see what he has to deal with.” Therese’s lips curved. “And no, he really has no idea.”
Reading her tone and the tenor of her smile, Martin asked, “What doesn’t Gregory know?”
Therese’s smile bloomed into one of delighted anticipation. “From all I’ve learned, I rather think our dear brother is going to find laying his hands on the reins of Bellamy Hall to be the biggest challenge of his life.”
The wedding breakfast rolled on in joyous vein, with not a wrinkle or hiccup to mar the day.
Eventually, however, all the guests left, driving to their houses in the surrounding countryside or heading back to London via the Great North Road, or alternatively, crowding into the charabancs Gray had hired to ferry guests back and forth from Stamford Station.
The last to leave were Sybil, Marietta, James, and Silas, who departed in Sybil’s carriage for Lyndon Hall, following Julius, Dorothy, and their three children in Julius’s coach.
At the top of the porch steps from where they’d waved everyone off, Izzy leant against Gray and sighed with unalloyed happiness. She glanced up and met his amber eyes. “Everything went off perfectly.”
Smiling, he raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “A wedding day to remember.”
“And thanks to Donaldson and Digby, we’ll have indisputable proof of that.”
“Indeed.” Gray grinned, and together, they walked inside.
Corby, transplanted from London to fill the post of butler of Tickencote Grange, was waiting to shut the door and report, “Everything is in hand, my lady, my lord. The staff are clearing the ballroom, and we’ll have it and the rest of the reception rooms in good order within the hour.”
Gray had ended his lease on his lodgings and dispatched his small household staff to the Grange, and Izzy had added several locals eager to join the servants’ hall at the “big house.”
“Thank you, Corby.” Izzy directed a teasingly speculative look Gray’s way. “If you don’t need his lordship or myself, then I believe we’ll…”
It was far too early to retire.
Catching her gaze, Gray smoothly supplied, “Retreat to our apartments so we won’t be in your way.”
