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murmured Lord Bliss.
    Ignoring him, Lady de Marisco continued, “Willow and James rode in the first coach. There was a coach for their four daughters, another for their four sons, a coach for the baggage, and another for all of their servants. I will say for Willow that she is a thoughtful guest and does not burden my servants with her family.
    “Of course, James and the two oldest boys brought their own horses. Henry and Francis consider themselves quite above the two younger boys and are apt to lose patience with them on a long journey. With the horses, they have the option of riding when the confines of the coach become too close.”
    From Devon came Lady de Marisco’s third son, the Earl of Lynmouth, his countess, and their family. Robert Southwood, called Robin by his intimates, would shortly be celebrating his thirty-seventh birthday. He was the handsome image of his late father, but lacked Geoffrey Southwood’s slightly sardonic look, for Robin was a happy man who had led a singularly fortunate life, never knowing serious sorrow until he was left a widower with three tiny daughters, all still in infancy. He had found undreamed-of happiness with his second wife, the beautiful, golden-haired Angel Christman, whose three stepdaughters, Elsbeth, Catherine, and Anne, could remember no mother but their gentle and aptly named stepmother.
    Her marriage to their father had given them not only a loving mother but eventually a houseful of siblings as well. Nine months after their father’s marriage to Angel, she had borne her husband his first son, named Geoffrey after his grandfather. Young Geoff was followed in 1591, 1594, and 1596 by three brothers; and a year ago, to Angel and Robin’s delight, baby Laura arrived.
    Robin and his wife were to stay with his half sister, Deirdre, Lady Blackthorn, and her husband whose home was nearby. Deirdre and her husband were the parents of seven children, three sons and four daughters. Lord and Lady Blackthorn would also host Deirdre’s brother, Padraic, Lord Burke. At thirty-one, Padraic was yet a bachelor. Gentle Deirdre despaired of her brother ever finding a wife, for not only had he turned aside all of her, her sisters’ and their mother’s attempts at matchmaking, he did not even seem interested in finding a wife.
    Arriving first, already comfortably settled at Queen’s Malvern by the time her elder sister’s entourage thundered importantly up the driveway, were Velvet de Marisco Gordon, the Countess of BrocCairn, and her husband, Alex. Each summer they traveled from their home, Dun Broc, in the Scottish Highlands where the earls of BrocCairn had been settled for several hundred years. Their four sons ranged in age from seven to a set of three-year-old twins. Alex also had a ten-year-old daughter by a long-forgotten mistress. He had seen fit to make the baby legitimate, and although the child, Sybilla, had been in her natural mother’s care for the early months of her life, she did not remember her. The only mother she cared to remember was the stepmother who had raised her. She and Velvet were particularly close, for Sibby had winning ways. Skye, however, thought her too pert.
    The bride’s family was to host the groom’s family at Pearroc Royal. Robert Grayson was the only surviving son of Arthur and Margaret Grayson, Baron and Baroness Renton, of Holly Hill. Apart from Robert, his parents had been singularly unfortunate with their offspring, losing the two sons born in the five years following Robert’s birth. After that, poor Lady Margaret had suffered a period of infertility until Robert was nine, when his mother birthed his now fourteen-year-old sister, Saxona. Two more miscarriages followed. At last Pamela, now eight, was born. The Graysons, whose small estate bordered on Pearroc Royal to the northeast, had known Anne St. Michael all her life. They were delighted to have such a charming and wealthy young lady for a daughter-in-law, especially in these hard