“You’ve been busy. And sneaky, I hear.”
“It’s not sneaky to be prepared,” she replied primly. “You both got on so well, I wasn’t going to waste such an opportunity, nor did I think you were a featherhead to waste it either. And so, good for you, my dear.”
“Thank you,” Meg replied drily. “I think.” Tamsin leaned too close to a flower arrangement and sneezed violently. Fair enough, there were perfume shops with less scented air. “It looks very nice in here,” Meg added. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m only sorry my Percy could not be here.”
“Me too.”
“Ah, well, never mind. She’ll be back from her travels soon enough.”
“In the meantime,” Priya announced. “We are stealing the bride.”
“Excellent notion,” Lady Blackwell approved.
The vicar looked at them pleadingly. Priya curtsied. “A good afternoon to you, Vicar,” she said ruthlessly.
“And good luck!” Tamsin tossed over her shoulder, laughing. “I think the altar will look very pretty with ribbons.”
His heartfelt groan woke Chartreuse, who replied with a scolding bark.
Priya led themto Meg’s usual guest chamber. Her trunks had been set in the corner and a tea tray was delivered shortly after. “The Duke of Thorncroft thought you might like something to eat,” the maid explained, wheeling in a full tea tray, the kind usually reserved for drawing rooms.
It must have taken several footmen to carry it up the stairs, even before it was packed with a silver tea pot, baskets of Jumbles, pears, blackberry tarts, strong cheese, salty biscuits. She was not unaware that he had been plying her with food since he met her uncle. Well, since before then even. She knew the smile on her face was silly, even before Tamsin grinned at her. “She’s besotted.”
Priya waited until the maid had left before pinning her with a searching glance. “We’re finally alone. You do want to marry him, don’t you, Meg? Because no one is forcing you.”
Meg hugged her concerned friend. “I do want to marry him,” she said softly. “He’s a good kind man.” With a wicked tongue, she nearly added. Her cheeks warmed.
Tamsin waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I like that blush, my friend. I like it very much. I want to hear every scandalous detail.”
“There’s nothing to hear.”
“You are such a liar.”
Meg laughed. “I thought people were supposed to be nice to a bride.”
“We’re very nice to brides who have no other options,” Tamsin said. “Since you look like the cat who got into the cream, you owe me details. Naughty one.” She tilted her head. “Is he a good kisser?”
“Yes.”
“See how fast she answered, Priya?” Tamsin chortled. There was no other word for it.
Priya’s stern expression finally relaxed into an answering smile. “I’m glad for you, Meg. You should have told us your uncle was such a blackguard.”
Meg shifted uncomfortably. “I thought I had it handled,” she said. “And I did for the most part. But he is getting worse, there’s no denying it.”
Tamsin frowned. “You could have come and lived with me.”
“I know,” Meg said, not wanting her friends to be offended. “I had responsibilities. And I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Well, that’s just stupid,” Tamsin declared. “That’s what friends are for. Cinderellas, especially.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She huffed, relenting. “But you are happy? Truly?”
Meg nodded. “Truly. We make each other laugh. And I like his family.”