Chapter 17
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Elizabeth woke late the next morning, to find Mark seated fully clothed on the bed beside her, reading through correspondence and making notes with a pencil on another sheet of paper laid over a book. She sat up and he set the papers aside and opened his arms up to her. She shyly cuddled up to him, and observed, "It seems like you'd be more comfortable at your desk?"
"I wanted to be with you when you woke up," he murmured into her hair. "You looked so tired when I got in last night that it occurred to me, belatedly, I will admit, that I haven't been treating you very gently. Nor did I allow you to rest up from your first journey before inflicting another upon you."
"I was very tired yesterday," Elizabeth admitted. "Why were you called away?"
Mark hesitated, "The simple answer, that I can give you, is that my friend wanted my advice on something."
"Devons said you are acquainted with the Prince," Elizabeth stated.
"This is true," Mark said.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Many things are not alright, much of the continent is still at war, the regency continues and is expected to end only when the King dies, and other such dire problems hang over all our heads," he replied a little grimly. Then he added, "But things are well enough for you and I. I've arranged the marriage license at the Parish I've attended here in London, and for the ceremony in the church, both to be provided at 9:30 on the morning of your birthday." He kissed her cheek.
She relaxed a little, though she had tensed at his initial answer. "I'm glad for that much," she said quietly.
"Is there anyone you'd like to have stand with you?" asked Mark. "A bridemaid as the second witness is traditional."
"My friend Amaline, is the only one I might have asked," Elizabeth told him uncertainly, "but she is married two years already and her husband's estate is halfway to Scotland." She added reluctantly, "It's not that I don't know anyone, but I haven't got many close friends."
Mark hugged her, and confessed, "I have only a handful of close friends and more than an extra decade of making them. We are much alike, Elizabeth love."
"Right down to our boot size," Elizabeth chuckled.
Mark grinned at her.
"I'm reluctant to ask a family member either," Elizabeth said. "If one got to come to my wedding, the rest would be offended that they hadn't."
"I will arrange for our witnesses then," Mark said reassuringly.
Then she told him about the gowns that had been ordered and the additional items that had been suggested. He cuddled her and offered the opinion that even if it were more expensive, that if she didn't mind letting Jeanette choose the items, it would be both less tiring and offer less opportunity to run into someone they knew, to let the seamstress provide them.
Elizabeth agreed with his logic, and informed him of her first fitting that afternoon. While Mark helped her dress, she suggested that perhaps they ought to get her a ladies maid. "Not that I don't like to have your attention," she said, blushing.
He agreed, and when they went down to the dining room, he mentioned the idea to Devons.
"Your pardon, my Lord, my Lady," replied Devons, "I've already taken the liberty of seeking a suitable maid. Through certain channels, I've been put in contact with a promising person, who should arrive day after tomorrow. If she doesn't suit you, of course, another may be selected."
The pair regarded him with surprise.
"Thank you Devons," Elizabeth said after a moment. Mark nodded.
"My pleasure," Devons responded.
At their late breakfast, juice was indeed offered. Elizabeth tasted it curiously, and then exclaimed in pleasure. "What is it?" she asked curiously.
Devons went into the kitchen to inquire, when he returned he told her, "Chef LaFolnse says it's a mix of strawberry, lemon and orange juice. And he added that if you wish to have it often, more of the greenhouse should be given over to strawberries," he reported.
"Greenhouse?" asked Elizabeth.
Mark nodded, "I ought to show you around the house and grounds," he said, "but would you mind very much if we put off the full tour for today? Andrew tells me that if I wish to visit the countryside within two weeks, I have a great deal of paperwork to get through as quickly as possible."
"I don't mind," replied Elizabeth. And when they had finished she followed him to his study. He regarded her with amusement. She blushed. "Do you mind if I stay with you here?"
"I don't mind your company at all, if you won't mind not having much of my attention," he replied.
She nodded, and curled up in the chair she'd rested in the previous evening. The book on glass works still lay beside it. She picked it up and considered it for a moment. Mark glanced at her and asked, "Did that book interest you at all, or was it a random choice?"
"It was a random choice, but it was interesting, I didn't know anything about how glass is made before," she replied.
He turned to the shelf behind him, and selected a thin volume, which he presented to her before seating himself at his desk.
She examined it curiously, 'A Treatise on Gas Lighting: Theory and Practice' proclaimed the title. She wondered how it related to glass manufacturing, but deduced as she read, that glass was extremely important in most of the proposed lamp designs. There was also a great deal about metal tubing, and other things of a mechanical nature. It was slow going for her, for not only was the subject outside her usual reading material, but the author had a habit of wandering off on a corner of a topic, and then suddenly jumping to another part entirely.
Andrew came and went, bringing Mark stacks of papers and ledgers, and carrying them away again. Sometimes pausing to discuss this or that. After a few hours of this Elizabeth tired of trying to read, and was feeling hungry. She went and stood next to Mark's desk until he looked up inquisitively.
"Lunch?" she suggested.
"Sure," he replied, and turned and tugged one of the pulls that hung down the wall beside the bookshelf. A minute later a breathless page arrived. Susie, it transpired.
"We'd like lunch prepared, please notify Chef LaFolnse and Devons, and return to inform us when it's ready," he told the child.
When Susie pelted off to accomplish this, he said to Elizabeth's curious expression, "Blue pulls call a page to the room you're in, they have a little board of bells rigged up. One or the other is on watch to respond between 8 in the morning and 8 at night," he explained.
"What about other colors?" Elizabeth asked.
"It varies," he answered, while stretching. "The other two pulls in the bedroom ring in the valet's or maid's room upstairs. The green one is Harley's at the moment. The other two in this room ring in Andrew's office, and in the nook by the front door, to summon whoever is on duty, usually Devons or one of the footmen."
Mark held out his arms to her, and she approached him. He pulled her into his lap. "Aren't I too heavy?" she asked, leaning against him tentatively. Her chin was level with his ear in this position.
"Not too heavy for a little bit of cuddling," he replied, and turned his face up to hers. They kissed until the page returned to report that lunch was ready.
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Elizabeth woke late the next morning, to find Mark seated fully clothed on the bed beside her, reading through correspondence and making notes with a pencil on another sheet of paper laid over a book. She sat up and he set the papers aside and opened his arms up to her. She shyly cuddled up to him, and observed, "It seems like you'd be more comfortable at your desk?"
"I wanted to be with you when you woke up," he murmured into her hair. "You looked so tired when I got in last night that it occurred to me, belatedly, I will admit, that I haven't been treating you very gently. Nor did I allow you to rest up from your first journey before inflicting another upon you."
"I was very tired yesterday," Elizabeth admitted. "Why were you called away?"
Mark hesitated, "The simple answer, that I can give you, is that my friend wanted my advice on something."
"Devons said you are acquainted with the Prince," Elizabeth stated.
"This is true," Mark said.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Many things are not alright, much of the continent is still at war, the regency continues and is expected to end only when the King dies, and other such dire problems hang over all our heads," he replied a little grimly. Then he added, "But things are well enough for you and I. I've arranged the marriage license at the Parish I've attended here in London, and for the ceremony in the church, both to be provided at 9:30 on the morning of your birthday." He kissed her cheek.
She relaxed a little, though she had tensed at his initial answer. "I'm glad for that much," she said quietly.
"Is there anyone you'd like to have stand with you?" asked Mark. "A bridemaid as the second witness is traditional."
"My friend Amaline, is the only one I might have asked," Elizabeth told him uncertainly, "but she is married two years already and her husband's estate is halfway to Scotland." She added reluctantly, "It's not that I don't know anyone, but I haven't got many close friends."
Mark hugged her, and confessed, "I have only a handful of close friends and more than an extra decade of making them. We are much alike, Elizabeth love."
"Right down to our boot size," Elizabeth chuckled.
Mark grinned at her.
"I'm reluctant to ask a family member either," Elizabeth said. "If one got to come to my wedding, the rest would be offended that they hadn't."
"I will arrange for our witnesses then," Mark said reassuringly.
Then she told him about the gowns that had been ordered and the additional items that had been suggested. He cuddled her and offered the opinion that even if it were more expensive, that if she didn't mind letting Jeanette choose the items, it would be both less tiring and offer less opportunity to run into someone they knew, to let the seamstress provide them.
Elizabeth agreed with his logic, and informed him of her first fitting that afternoon. While Mark helped her dress, she suggested that perhaps they ought to get her a ladies maid. "Not that I don't like to have your attention," she said, blushing.
He agreed, and when they went down to the dining room, he mentioned the idea to Devons.
"Your pardon, my Lord, my Lady," replied Devons, "I've already taken the liberty of seeking a suitable maid. Through certain channels, I've been put in contact with a promising person, who should arrive day after tomorrow. If she doesn't suit you, of course, another may be selected."
The pair regarded him with surprise.
"Thank you Devons," Elizabeth said after a moment. Mark nodded.
"My pleasure," Devons responded.
At their late breakfast, juice was indeed offered. Elizabeth tasted it curiously, and then exclaimed in pleasure. "What is it?" she asked curiously.
Devons went into the kitchen to inquire, when he returned he told her, "Chef LaFolnse says it's a mix of strawberry, lemon and orange juice. And he added that if you wish to have it often, more of the greenhouse should be given over to strawberries," he reported.
"Greenhouse?" asked Elizabeth.
Mark nodded, "I ought to show you around the house and grounds," he said, "but would you mind very much if we put off the full tour for today? Andrew tells me that if I wish to visit the countryside within two weeks, I have a great deal of paperwork to get through as quickly as possible."
"I don't mind," replied Elizabeth. And when they had finished she followed him to his study. He regarded her with amusement. She blushed. "Do you mind if I stay with you here?"
"I don't mind your company at all, if you won't mind not having much of my attention," he replied.
She nodded, and curled up in the chair she'd rested in the previous evening. The book on glass works still lay beside it. She picked it up and considered it for a moment. Mark glanced at her and asked, "Did that book interest you at all, or was it a random choice?"
"It was a random choice, but it was interesting, I didn't know anything about how glass is made before," she replied.
He turned to the shelf behind him, and selected a thin volume, which he presented to her before seating himself at his desk.
She examined it curiously, 'A Treatise on Gas Lighting: Theory and Practice' proclaimed the title. She wondered how it related to glass manufacturing, but deduced as she read, that glass was extremely important in most of the proposed lamp designs. There was also a great deal about metal tubing, and other things of a mechanical nature. It was slow going for her, for not only was the subject outside her usual reading material, but the author had a habit of wandering off on a corner of a topic, and then suddenly jumping to another part entirely.
Andrew came and went, bringing Mark stacks of papers and ledgers, and carrying them away again. Sometimes pausing to discuss this or that. After a few hours of this Elizabeth tired of trying to read, and was feeling hungry. She went and stood next to Mark's desk until he looked up inquisitively.
"Lunch?" she suggested.
"Sure," he replied, and turned and tugged one of the pulls that hung down the wall beside the bookshelf. A minute later a breathless page arrived. Susie, it transpired.
"We'd like lunch prepared, please notify Chef LaFolnse and Devons, and return to inform us when it's ready," he told the child.
When Susie pelted off to accomplish this, he said to Elizabeth's curious expression, "Blue pulls call a page to the room you're in, they have a little board of bells rigged up. One or the other is on watch to respond between 8 in the morning and 8 at night," he explained.
"What about other colors?" Elizabeth asked.
"It varies," he answered, while stretching. "The other two pulls in the bedroom ring in the valet's or maid's room upstairs. The green one is Harley's at the moment. The other two in this room ring in Andrew's office, and in the nook by the front door, to summon whoever is on duty, usually Devons or one of the footmen."
Mark held out his arms to her, and she approached him. He pulled her into his lap. "Aren't I too heavy?" she asked, leaning against him tentatively. Her chin was level with his ear in this position.
"Not too heavy for a little bit of cuddling," he replied, and turned his face up to hers. They kissed until the page returned to report that lunch was ready.
Elizabeth woke late the next morning, to find Mark seated fully clothed on the bed beside her, reading through correspondence and making notes with a pencil on another sheet of paper laid over a book. She sat up and he set the papers aside and opened his arms up to her. She shyly cuddled up to him, and observed, "It seems like you'd be more comfortable at your desk?" "I wanted to be with you when you woke up," he murmured into her hair. "You looked so tired when I got in last night that it occurred to me, belatedly, I will admit, that I haven't been treating you very gently. Nor did I allow you to rest up from your first journey before inflicting another upon you." "I was very tired yesterday," Elizabeth admitted. "Why were you called away?" Mark hesitated, "The simple answer, that I can give you, is that my friend wanted my advice on something." "Devons said you are acquainted with the Prince," Elizabeth stated. "This is true," Mark said. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "Many things are not alright, much of the continent is still at war, the regency continues and is expected to end only when the King dies, and other such dire problems hang over all our heads," he replied a little grimly. Then he added, "But things are well enough for you and I. I've arranged the marriage license at the Parish I've attended here in London, and for the ceremony in the church, both to be provided at 9:30 on the morning of your birthday." He kissed her cheek. She relaxed a little, though she had tensed at his initial answer. "I'm glad for that much," she said quietly. "Is there anyone you'd like to have stand with you?" asked Mark. "A bridemaid as the second witness is traditional." "My friend Amaline, is the only one I might have asked," Elizabeth told him uncertainly, "but she is married two years already and her husband's estate is halfway to Scotland." She added reluctantly, "It's not that I don't know anyone, but I haven't got many close friends." Mark hugged her, and confessed, "I have only a handful of close friends and more than an extra decade of making them. We are much alike, Elizabeth love." "Right down to our boot size," Elizabeth chuckled. Mark grinned at her. "I'm reluctant to ask a family member either," Elizabeth said. "If one got to come to my wedding, the rest would be offended that they hadn't." "I will arrange for our witnesses then," Mark said reassuringly. Then she told him about the gowns that had been ordered and the additional items that had been suggested. He cuddled her and offered the opinion that even if it were more expensive, that if she didn't mind letting Jeanette choose the items, it would be both less tiring and offer less opportunity to run into someone they knew, to let the seamstress provide them. Elizabeth agreed with his logic, and informed him of her first fitting that afternoon. While Mark helped her dress, she suggested that perhaps they ought to get her a ladies maid. "Not that I don't like to have your attention," she said, blushing. He agreed, and when they went down to the dining room, he mentioned the idea to Devons. "Your pardon, my Lord, my Lady," replied Devons, "I've already taken the liberty of seeking a suitable maid. Through certain channels, I've been put in contact with a promising person, who should arrive day after tomorrow. If she doesn't suit you, of course, another may be selected." The pair regarded him with surprise. "Thank you Devons," Elizabeth said after a moment. Mark nodded. "My pleasure," Devons responded. At their late breakfast, juice was indeed offered. Elizabeth tasted it curiously, and then exclaimed in pleasure. "What is it?" she asked curiously. Devons went into the kitchen to inquire, when he returned he told her, "Chef LaFolnse says it's a mix of strawberry, lemon and orange juice. And he added that if you wish to have it often, more of the greenhouse should be given over to strawberries," he reported. "Greenhouse?" asked Elizabeth. Mark nodded, "I ought to show you around the house and grounds," he said, "but would you mind very much if we put off the full tour for today? Andrew tells me that if I wish to visit the countryside within two weeks, I have a great deal of paperwork to get through as quickly as possible." "I don't mind," replied Elizabeth. And when they had finished she followed him to his study. He regarded her with amusement. She blushed. "Do you mind if I stay with you here?" "I don't mind your company at all, if you won't mind not having much of my attention," he replied. She nodded, and curled up in the chair she'd rested in the previous evening. The book on glass works still lay beside it. She picked it up and considered it for a moment. Mark glanced at her and asked, "Did that book interest you at all, or was it a random choice?" "It was a random choice, but it was interesting, I didn't know anything about how glass is made before," she replied. He turned to the shelf behind him, and selected a thin volume, which he presented to her before seating himself at his desk. She examined it curiously, 'A Treatise on Gas Lighting: Theory and Practice' proclaimed the title. She wondered how it related to glass manufacturing, but deduced as she read, that glass was extremely important in most of the proposed lamp designs. There was also a great deal about metal tubing, and other things of a mechanical nature. It was slow going for her, for not only was the subject outside her usual reading material, but the author had a habit of wandering off on a corner of a topic, and then suddenly jumping to another part entirely. Andrew came and went, bringing Mark stacks of papers and ledgers, and carrying them away again. Sometimes pausing to discuss this or that. After a few hours of this Elizabeth tired of trying to read, and was feeling hungry. She went and stood next to Mark's desk until he looked up inquisitively. "Lunch?" she suggested. "Sure," he replied, and turned and tugged one of the pulls that hung down the wall beside the bookshelf. A minute later a breathless page arrived. Susie, it transpired. "We'd like lunch prepared, please notify Chef LaFolnse and Devons, and return to inform us when it's ready," he told the child. When Susie pelted off to accomplish this, he said to Elizabeth's curious expression, "Blue pulls call a page to the room you're in, they have a little board of bells rigged up. One or the other is on watch to respond between 8 in the morning and 8 at night," he explained. "What about other colors?" Elizabeth asked. "It varies," he answered, while stretching. "The other two pulls in the bedroom ring in the valet's or maid's room upstairs. The green one is Harley's at the moment. The other two in this room ring in Andrew's office, and in the nook by the front door, to summon whoever is on duty, usually Devons or one of the footmen." Mark held out his arms to her, and she approached him. He pulled her into his lap. "Aren't I too heavy?" she asked, leaning against him tentatively. Her chin was level with his ear in this position. "Not too heavy for a little bit of cuddling," he replied, and turned his face up to hers. They kissed until the page returned to report that lunch was ready.
