Jane Feather - Valentine

"It will be," Sylvester said. "Tell Dora to bring a cold compress and arnica up to Lady Theo's bedroom."

Foster's air of concern deepened. "Yes, right away, my lord. Lady Emily, Lady Clarissa and Lady Rosie are awaiting your return in the library."

"Oh, well, bring it to the library in that case." Sylvester turned aside with his burden.

"Whatever's happened?" Emily jumped up as they came in. "Theo, you're as white as a ghost"

"Oh, it's nothing," Theo said hastily. "I… I… uh… I tripped on the pavement and fell in front of an oncoming carriage, but Sylvester managed to pull me back in time."

Her husband made no comment, and only Rosie noticed the raised eyebrow and the slight twitch of his lips as he settled Theo on a sofa.

A footman came in with the required items and set them on a low table beside the sofa. They all waited in silence until he'd bowed himself out. Sylvester was aware of an air of suppressed excitement in the room as he moved behind Theo and delicately parted her hair at the base of her skull, feeling for the lump.

Theo was aware of it too. "What is it?" she demanded of her sisters. Clarissa in particular was bubbling with exuberance.

"Oh, Theo, Jonathan has a splendid commission to paint Lord Decatur's daughter, so he's asked Mama for my hand and she said yes," Clarissa declared, her voice a passionate throb, her hands clasped tightly to her bosom.

Theo smiled warmly, trying not to wince at Sylvester's probing fingers. "That's wonderful, love."

"Yes, but it's not exactly a surprise," Rosie put in, peering myopically at a plate of shortbread on the table in front of her. "Clarry's behaving as if there was ever any doubt." She selected a piece and bit into it

"Well, we came to tell you that," Emily said swiftly before her sister could respond to this dampener. "But also we wished to ask Stoneridge something." She gave him a shy smile as he looked up intently from his first aid. "We're going to have a double wedding -"

"What a lovely idea," Theo interrupted. "You'll be married from Stoneridge, of course."

"But of course," Sylvester agreed.

Emily flushed slightly. "That would be wonderful, but it wasn't what we wanted to ask exactly. We wondered if you would be willing to give us both away, Stoneridge?"

"No one else feels right," Clarissa said. "Uncle Horace… or Cousin Cecil… they're not family in the same way."

A slow smile spread over Sylvester's face as he wrung out a cloth in cold water and gently applied it to Theo's bump. "I should be deeply honored."

"Will you give me away too?" Rosie piped up, brushing sugar dust off her lips. "When the time comes."

"No, I think I'll hang on to you," Sylvester responded dryly, gently smoothing arnica over the bruising. "Save some poor soul from a ghastly fate."

Emily and Clarissa chuckled, and Rosie, unbothered by the teasing, responded matter-of-factly, "Well, I don't particularly expect to marry anyway. I'd have to find someone who's particularly interested in snails and beetles and things. I don't think many men like that kind of thing."

"Oh, the right kind of men turn up in the most unexpected places," Theo said carelessly, reaching up to grasp Sylvester's wrist. "And from the most unexpected families."

"Even Gilbraiths," he said with a smile.

"You're no Gilbraith," Theo stated. "You must have been a changeling."

"Theo, my dear, whatever's happened to you? Foster said you're hurt." Elinor entered the room with a most unusual haste, her customary composure vanished.

"She fell in front of a passing carriage," Rosie informed her mother. "At least that's what Theo said. Stoneridge didn't say anything."

Elinor glanced sharply at her son-in-law as she bent to examine Theo's injury. His expression was wry, but he offered no further explanation.

"I don't believe it's serious, ma'am. The skin isn't broken."

"No," she said, scrutinizing the bruising. "But you must have a headache, dear."

"Like the pounding of Thor's hammer, I should imagine," Sylvester said. "She should be in bed. You'll excuse us, I'm sure, if I see to it."

"Yes, of course. I'll suggest to Lady Gilbraith that she and Mary might join us for nuncheon in Brook Street. They've just gone upstairs to take off their hats." Elinor was unable to help herself from sounding a little weary. She'd already spent an interminable morning with them.

Sylvester shook his head as he scooped Theo off the sofa. "There's no need to put yourself out further, ma'am. If my mother is unable to amuse herself for the afternoon, then I'm afraid she must go to the devil."

Elinor struggled with herself for a second, then laughed. "An unfilial sentiment, Sylvester, but I can't help but agree with it. Come, girls. Theo needs to rest."

"I'm sure I don't really," Theo protested from her husband's arms as they went into the hall.

"There's resting and resting," Sylvester said blandly, mounting the stairs.

"But what about my sore head?"

"I wasn't intending to focus my attentions on your head."

"Ah," Theo said, shifting in his hold so she could put her arms around his neck. "That's all right, then."