“I thought we agreed to not get each other gifts. The reestablishment of the garden would be our present to each other.”

“We did.”

He stared at her as if expecting her to say more. She cautioned herself to proceed with care. James could be a bit touchy where money matters were concerned. His pride. Not that he was poor by any means. He had a wonderful job at Oxford that he loved, his doctoral thesis had been published to critical acclaim, and he had even turned his research into three successful historical novels. It was just that he had been shocked and amazed, as had she, at the fortune brought in by the Austen papers and first editions.

“Then why did you leave this on my desk?” James had taken one of the rooms in the north wing near their bedroom suite to use as an office.

“Me? I’ve never seen that before.”

“The other wedding gifts are downstairs in the parlor. Why would this one—”

“Did you read the card?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Perhaps it’s inside.”

He gave the present to her.

“It’s heavy.” She set it down on the table and unwrapped it. Inside was a silver box. The cloisonne design on top depicted a man and woman in Regency dress in a garden. When she opened it, the tinkle of music filled the air. “How lovely.”

He looked over her shoulder. “Is there a card?”

“No. Just an old key.”

He reached around her and slowly picked it up. “This … is the key to the safe that I gave Huxley after I put the jewelry back … I … I remember. I remember everything. It wasn’t a dream. I remember the ghosts, time travel, getting beat up, Lord Shermont, Digby, and …”

She spun around and hugged him.

He pulled back to look her in the eye. “And I remember you, Eleanor. You were there. You weren’t dreaming either.”

She nodded and shook her head in turn.

“You might have told me.”

“Would you have believed me?”

“With my head? Probably not. With my heart … always. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Both times.” He kissed her gently and thoroughly.

“I wonder how the key got here,” she said.

“You don’t suppose the jewels are still hidden in the wall after all these years.”

“Let’s find out,” she said with a grin.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, you two. We have a wedding to go to,” Kristen called through the door.

“I guess it will have to wait until after the reception,” Eleanor said.

He smacked his head. “I forgot to tell you. Carol’s flight finally made it, and she arrived about an hour ago. I asked Helga to put her in the blue room.”

Eleanor nodded. One wing of the house was still as it was when it was an inn, which had come in handy with all the wedding guests. Their small staff had been stretched to the limit, even with the addition of a veritable army of temporary workers. “You aren’t going to spend the evening talking to your editor about your next book, are you?”

“No. In fact, she wants to talk to you about Deirdre and Mina’s journals that you mentioned last time we were in New York. She’s thinking book and docudrama. Simultaneous release. Could be big.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the matter? That’s good news.”

“I only mentioned them in relation to the Jane Austen memorabilia. Their story isn’t mine to tell. I really doubt they would want their journals made public.”

“Time’s up,” Kristen called. “On the count of ten, I’m coming in.”

“It’s not something you have to decide right now. The only thing you have to decide is whether you still want to marry me.”

She smiled. “Absolutely. In about fifteen minutes, if I can get dressed that fast.” She turned her face toward him for another kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“If you keep that up,” he said, “you’ll have to get married in your bathrobe.”

“Ready or not,” Kristen called, “here I—”

James stepped back and swung the door open. Kristen, hand firmly on the knob, stumbled headlong into the room.

“You ladies should really think about hurrying. The ceremony starts in twelve minutes,” he added over his shoulder as he left.

Kristen let out a huff of exasperation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eleanor said. “I’ve always been a fast dresser.”

“Take your time,” Kristen said. She, of course, had been dressed in her light turquoise maid of honor outfit for at least an hour. “It’s not every day you get married, and it’s not like they can start without you.”

Exactly nine minutes later, Eleanor started down the main stairway. Her cream silk dress was made in the empire style, cut full in the back, even though there wasn’t a train. Thin blue satin ribbons were interwoven through the lace edging on her small puffed sleeves. The long veil that she had draped over her arm was designed to pool behind her, thus allowing the butterfly pattern of the lace to be visible against the sunny yellow runner she’d chosen. The only jewelry she wore was her engagement ring, the tiny diamond stud earrings James had given her on the anniversary of their first date, and, of course, her amber cross necklace.

Her father waited below to escort her to the garden and walk her down the aisle. He looked quite handsome and slightly uncomfortable in his Regency attire.

“You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen,” he said. “Your mother would have been so proud of you.”

She gave him a hug while she blinked away a tear.

At the arbor that marked the beginning of the garden path, they paused for Kristen to arrange the long veil behind her. The wedding planner handed them their bouquets and started Kristen down the aisle.

While they waited for the bridal march to start, Dad said, “This is the moment every father fears from the moment his daughter is born. I guess I’m supposed to say something wise, but …” He patted her hand and swallowed. “I’ll drive the getaway car if you want to ditch this shindig. It’s not too late.”

“Dad! I love James and want to marry him more than anything else in the world.”

“Good. I just wanted you to know you had an option. I support whatever decision you make.”

“That’s the sweetest, most loving thing you could have said.” She kissed his cheek. “You are a wise man.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” As she said it she suddenly felt nervous, not for what she was doing, but the how. Would she get down the aisle without tripping and falling? Would she get the words out without stuttering or mixing them up?

Then she looked up and saw James. The love that shone from his eyes made her feel as though she could do anything, even fly, if he were by her side.

The chairs had been set up facing a flower-covered arbor on the western boundary, and as they said I do, the sunset painted the sky glorious colors. The guests had been instructed to open their small white boxes as the new Mr. and Mrs. James B. Wright walked up the aisle. A cloud of yellow butterflies, their transformation from caterpillars scientifically timed to the day and hour, took flight and swirled around them.

The reception seemed a bit surreal to Eleanor. The disparate pieces of her life came together. Family, school friends, coworkers from various jobs, and new neighbors mixed with people from James’s life, some of whom she’d met and others who were complete strangers.

A great number of the guests had gotten into the spirit of the theme and availed themselves of her veritable warehouse of Regency costumes, many from movie productions. At times it felt as if she’d traveled back in time again. Several times she even thought that she caught a glimpse of Deirdre and Mina out of the corner of her eye.

She endured comments that ranged from her great aunt saying, “We’d just about given up on you ever getting married,” to her newest employee’s gushing appreciation for the invitation, the paid time off, the trip, and the job. If Kristen hadn’t rescued her, the new seamstress would have gone on to name who knew what, the air they breathed? The whole experience of so many people at once was a bit nerve-racking and a little exhausting.

Dinner, served in two tents on the south lawn, was a blur. She just pushed her food around on the plate. She’d opted not to have a huge wedding cake in keeping with her theme. The dessert function was fulfilled by an assortment of sweets and fruits served buffet-style in the dining room. Finally it came time for her first dance with her husband.

He escorted her to the center of the ballroom and bowed formally. She curtsied and stepped into his arms.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered as he led her in wide sweeping turns.

“When I wanted everyone to share my happiness, I didn’t realize how overwhelming three hundred and fifty guests can be. How do you remain so cool and calm?”

“I’ve been to balls Prinny gave at the palace with two thousand five hundred guests.”

The remark was so Lord Shermont, she had to smile.

“That’s better. The sun is shining again.”

“It’s night. The moon is already out.”

“Is it? I can’t tell. You are the sun and the moon to me.”

“I wonder how the new flowers look in the moonlight?” The garden had been her idea, something she had supervised while he was busy with the architect and contractor.

He raised an eyebrow. “Quite suddenly I find the subject of gardens fascinating. Shall we continue this conversation outside?” He looked over her head at the other couples who had joined them on the dance floor. With deft moves, he swept her across the room and out the door to the terrace. Hand in hand they ran down the steps and up the white shell path to the moonlight garden.