Late for the Wedding by Amanda Quick

about Beaumont Castle.”
    They both returned to gazing fixedly at Tobias.
    “Indeed,” Lavinia said. “There is no great cause for concern. I’m sure you will all be quite safe in your beds tonight. Don’t you agree, Tobias?”
    “Yes.” He took her arm. “Allow me to see you to your door. The hour grows late, and we must leave early in the morning.”
    “You are going back to London tomorrow?” Miss Gilway asked quickly. “Why so soon?”
    “Personal business,” Lavinia said coolly. She smiled at the three. “I will say my farewells now, as you will all no doubt be asleep when I depart.”
    “I wish you a very pleasant journey, madam.” Pierce made another graceful little bow. “And remember what I said earlier this evening when you went downstairs to the ball. I would be delighted to take you on as a client. I feel I could do wonders with your hair.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Pierce, I will bear that in mind.” She hooked her hand under Tobias’s arm and then hesitated. “By the by, speaking of the business of hairdressing, I have a question for you, sir.”
    “I am at your service, madam,” Pierce said gallantly. “Would this question by any chance be in regard to the events of this evening?”
    “Just a minor point,” she assured him. “In your career you are required to have a great expertise with wigs and false hair and the like, are you not?”
    “Every fashionable young lady simply must possess a false chignon or two at the very least,” he said in a voice that rang with absolute conviction. “After a certain age it is imperative that a woman invest in a variety of full wigs. There is simply no alternative available if she wishes to remain in style.”
    “You watched the guests go downstairs to the costume ball tonight. Did you by any chance spot any ladies wearing blond wigs?”
    “Blond?” Pierce gave a shudder. “Good God, no, madam, I did not. Indeed, I should have been positively horrified if I had seen such a sight.”
    Tobias scowled. “Why the devil would you have been shocked? You just said no fashionable woman should be without a couple of wigs.”
    “Yes, but not
blond
ones.” Pierce raised his eyes to the heavens, evidently seeking to be delivered from such stupid inquiries. “Really, sir, it is obvious that you know nothing of style. Allow me to inform you that when it comes to wigs, switches, puffs, and the like, blond hair is very nearly as unfashionable as red.”
    There was a short, heavy silence. Everyone looked at Lavinia. Her very red hair gleamed in the light of the wall sconce.
    It occurred to Tobias that the hairdresser had just insulted her. He fixed Pierce with a hard look.
    “I happen to think that Mrs. Lake’s hair suits her perfectly,” he said quietly.
    Although he had not raised his voice, Miss Richards and Miss Gilway both flinched. Each took a step back. They were still staring at him, but not with the same peculiar interest they had been displaying. Now they looked as though he had turned into a ravening beast before their eyes.
    “Tobias,” Lavinia hissed in a low voice, “stop this at once.”
    He was in no mood to stop. He was annoyed. It had been a long, extremely difficult evening.
    Pierce seemed oblivious to the fact that he was in some danger. His attention was concentrated on Lavinia.
    “Madam, you really must allow me to pay you a visit after we all return to London,” he urged with what appeared to be genuine concern. “There is so much I could do with you. I vow, you would look splendid in a dark brown wig. Such a dramatic contrast with your green eyes.”
    Lavinia frowned and raised a hand to touch her hair. “Do you really think so?”
    “There is no doubt about it.” Pierce folded one arm across his chest, propped his elbow on it, and stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner. He contemplated Lavinia in the manner of a sculptor studying a half-completed statue. “I can envision the results, and they would be astounding, I assure