Replenish the Earth (21 page)

‘Thank you, Mr Jamieson,’ she said gratefully. ‘And now, here’s Hannah with the wine. Will, you’ll take a glass with us, won’t you?’

‘Er - no. You know I’m not one for drinking wine, especially in the middle of the day, with half my work yet to be done. If you’re all right now, Sarah, I’ll go and show the men where to water their animals. There is no stable-boy here, you see, Mr Jamieson.’

‘Bless me, I’d quite forgotten the post-boys! Well, if I’m to stay, I must pay them off and send them back to Bath. They shall return for me next week.’ Mr Jamieson bustled out, but Will lingered for a moment before following him.

‘You’re sure you’ll be all right now?’ he asked. ‘He won’t try to bully you, will he?’

‘No, no. He has my welfare at heart. And he has been more kind to me than could be expected of a family lawyer. We dined together a few times before I left London. I’ve grown to regard him almost as an uncle.’ 

‘He mislikes the match.’

‘He will grow used to it, and anyway it’s me you’re marrying, not him.’

He nodded, but his expression didn’t lighten. 

‘What is it?’ she coaxed.

‘I mislike the way people take me for a - a fortune hunter! ‘Tis not like that between us!’

‘As long as
we
know where we stand, Will, I think we need not fear malicious tongues. And Mr Jamieson’s presence will lend the marriage even more respectability.’ But she could see that he was still disturbed. Nothing in life was easy and straightforward, she thought wistfully, even marriage to the man you loved.

When Mr Jamieson returned a few moments later, Sarah had a smile lingering on her face and he couldn’t help but realise once again how happy she was now.

As if reading his mind, Sarah turned back to him. ‘It
was
a miracle, that day in London, wasn’t it? I never thought to have so much - Will, the house, children perhaps, if we’re really lucky. Now, pray let me give you that glass of wine and one of Hannah’s little honey cakes.’

* * * *

During the next few days, Sarah and Will were both made aware of the sharp brain behind Mr Jamieson’s kindly exterior. He wanted to know all their plans and their smallest concerns, and asked shrewd questions, even about matters he knew little of, like the cattle and Will’s plans for breeding better beasts. On the Saturday, he even inspected the ram and half dozen ewe-lambs Will had bought at Sawbury market.

‘Why these sheep?’ asked Mr Jamieson, walking round them. ‘Sheep all look much alike to me, I must confess.’

Will answered confidently, sure of his ground. ‘They’ve more meat on them, see, and shorter legs, which is a good thing. Not so scrawny as the others, and the fleece is good, too. Give me a few years and I’ll have a flock worth something. Times are changing, sir. Some men are beginning to breed their farm beasts more carefully, as they do their horses - and they keep more of them alive through the winter, too, so there can be fresh meat whenever it’s wanted. I mean to be one of those new men! I mean to breed sheep and cattle that other men will pay good gold for to breed with their own flocks.’

‘Hmm!’

That evening, Sarah went out, as she often did now, to watch Will drive in the cows for milking. They stood together as the placid beasts made their way into the yard and Mary, who seemed to prefer outdoor jobs, walked past them with her milking stool and pail.

‘Sarah!’ Will turned and gripped her arms abruptly. ‘Sarah, if you should wish to change your mind - well, I wouldn’t hold you to it! I know how far below you I am. Your lawyer - you can see that he’s worried, and . . . ’

To his surprise, she flung her arms round his neck. ‘Don’t talk like that, Will! Don’t ever talk like that! I need you in so many ways! I shall always worry that I’ve forced
you
into a marriage that is distasteful. What have I to offer a man? I’m not even pretty!’ And she burst into tears.

‘Sarah! Sarah!’ He lifted her face from his shoulder and kissed her on the mouth for the first time, kissed her good and long. ‘How you do go on about not being pretty!’ he said when he drew away, smiling down at her. He shook her slightly to emphasise his words. ‘I like your face well enough, I promise you. And I like your company, too. I believe we shall do very well together.’ Then he patted her on the shoulder and walked back to his cows.

She watched him go, not trying to guard her expression for once. If he turned, she was sure he would see clearly written on her face all the love she felt for him. Raising one finger to her lips she touched them gently. He had kissed her, lingered on the kiss, too. She hoped he would do that often. He made her feel - happy inside when he touched her.

She laughed softly at herself and went back to her work, feeling much happier.

* * * *

On the Sunday, Mr Jamieson escorted Sarah to church, and if his dignity suffered from riding there in Will’s farm cart, he didn’t let his feelings about that show.

‘Have you no carriage?’ he asked Sarah when they returned.

‘Oh, yes, two of them - but no horses, apart from dear Lally, whom Will found for me.’

He could only shake his head in disapproval.

That evening, he produced a property settlement, carefully drawn up to ensure that Broadhurst Manor and the other bits of land or cottages were held in trust for Sarah, giving her absolute freedom to choose her inheritor. She protested that there was no need to protect her from Will, but her betrothed also read the document through carefully, asking for explanations of the words he didn’t understand and pronounced it a good idea.

This pleased Mr Jamieson greatly. The marriage might turn out quite well after all. Pursley was certainly not stupid, and could read and write better than some lords that Mr Jamieson had dealt with.

At Sarah’s urging, however, another clause was added, bequeathing the land to Will if she should die without heirs of her body. She would never allow anyone to take his land from him again.

That generosity brought Will near to tears when he found out, so that he couldn’t speak for a moment, only clasp her hand tightly and swallow hard.

* * * *

The wedding took place on the first Wednesday in June. The morning dawned fine and sunny, with the promise of a hot day to follow. Only occasional clouds drifted across the sky and trailed their shadows over the fields. The birds and insects came out to enjoy the sunshine, and chirped or hummed a distant chorus that followed Sarah throughout the day, forming a counterpoint to the joy which was singing through her veins and overflowing into everything she said and did.

Always after that, throughout her whole life, she would be reminded by a particularly fine summer’s day of her wedding and of the happiness she had felt as she was driven to the church, with the future stretching before her, all rosy with promise.

Mary came up to the bedroom to fill the wooden tub with warm water as soon as she heard Sarah stirring. ‘It be a fine day, mistress,’ she announced unnecessarily, beaming all over her round face, ‘An’ we all d’wish you joy in your marriage.’

‘Thank you, Mary.’

Sarah washed herself, dressed as far as her stays, chemise and petticoats, and pulled a house gown over them till it should be time to finish dressing and leave for the church. The wedding was set for ten in the morning and it was only seven o’clock by the time she had finished. How would she manage to fill the hours till it was time to leave?

There being no sound from Mr Jamieson’s bedroom, she wandered down to the kitchen. Mary squeaked and rushed to close the back door. ‘’Tis bad luck to sight your man afore the weddin’!’ she warned. ‘And Will Pursley is still around.’

‘Bad luck!’ scoffed Hannah. ‘That’s a pagan idea, Mary, and you should beg the Lord’s forgiveness for ever uttering it!’

‘‘Tis, too, bad luck!’ muttered Mary under her breath, but she didn’t pursue the matter, for Hannah had a very sharp way with her at times. Furtively, Mary made a sign to ward away evil and went back to her work.

‘I don’t feel very hungry,’ Sarah protested, as a platter of food was placed in front of her.

Hannah spoke firmly. ‘You need to break your fast, mistress, or you’ll be feeling faint before the morning’s over. Come now, try a bit of this nice crusty bread with some honey on it. You can’t beat honey for settling the nerves,’ she threw challengingly at Mary, in case the other woman got the idea that she, Hannah, subscribed to the silly customs that folk with no more sense followed on their wedding day, such as eating honey for fertility.

Sarah dutifully nibbled at the bread, but it might have been baked from sawdust for all she could taste. Several chunks of it were gobbled down by Bella and Betty under the table when Hannah’s back was turned, and Mary so far forgot her place as to wink at her mistress to show that she could keep that little secret.

Politely, but just as firmly, Hannah refused her mistress’s offer of help in the kitchen, and suggested that Mistress Sarah go and sit in the little parlour to rest until it should be time to get ready. With dragging feet, Sarah went to fidget over a piece of sewing, setting in stitches so crooked that she had to pull them out again when next she took up her work.

At half past eight, Mr Jamieson joined her in the parlour and consumed a hearty breakfast of roast beef, bread and hard-boiled eggs on the little table by the window. The sight of the food made Sarah shudder, but she managed to make tolerably sensible replies to his attempts at conversation - at least, she thought she had done, though he looked at her strangely once or twice. 

At nine o’clock, she thankfully escaped up to her bedroom to finish making her toilette. Hannah came up soon afterwards to bring her a posy of choice blooms that Daniel had picked for her from his garden, and to see if she needed any help. She didn’t, but was glad of Hannah’s company, because foolish fantasies, like Will changing his mind at the last minute, seemed to fly away in the face of her maid’s sturdy common sense.

The lilac silk dress looked quite elegant, Sarah thought, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. How lucky she’d been to find ribbons in one of her grandmother’s trunks, so that she could make herself a neck band. Round the edges of her bodice was heavy lace, also her grandmother’s, brought up carefully and lovingly by Mary, who was good at laundry work. It edged her sleeves, too, and she shook one arm to watch if fall delicately around into place. Her full skirts were spread wide over well-starched petticoats, for lack of a hoop.

But oh, her hair was as fine and flyaway as ever, and wisps of it would drift down from under the fine lawn of the small new headdress she’d made for herself, fashioned rather like Lady Tarnly’s, using more of the lilac ribbon to trim it.

Soon after that, the boy’s halloo as he drove up to the house in the freshly washed and polished trap from The Golden Fleece brought Sarah away from the mirror and made her hurry down the stairs, panicking now lest they be late at the church and keep everyone waiting.

The sun was hot on her face. The sides of the lane were a-flutter with flowers and even the corn in the great village field seemed to be bowing her along her way. In the back of the trap, Mary’s broad face beamed at the world around her, its shiny pink colour a testimonial to the thorough scrubbing she had felt the occasion to warrant. She was wearing a new dress cut down for her by Sarah from things found in the cupboard and she smoothed its brown linen folds over her knees once or twice with rough red fingers, proud to look so fine. She wished Petey could have come too, but going into the village would have upset him and he would be better off with Daniel.

Beside her Hetty jigged up and down with excitement and even Hannah wore a pleased expression on her gaunt face, for she felt that the Lord’s will was being done and that His plan showed a tender, fatherly care for His daughter, Sarah, who, in Hannah’s stern estimation, fully deserved this chance of happiness. For once, Hannah was happy to visit the Established Church. 

Everything was peaceful on the village green, though more people than usual had found business there in order to catch a glimpse of the bridal party. Hugh and Izzy had been observed earlier lingering in the vicinity of the church, preventing anyone from going inside. They had been cracking coarse jokes and looking as if they intended to create a disturbance.

When Will arrived, they slipped behind some gravestones, but when Lord Tarnly’s carriage drew up, they left, knowing their master would not wish to offend his lordship, much as Mr Sewell had wanted the wedding disrupted.

After they had gone, a few of the village women crept into the back of the church to watch the ceremony.

As Sarah limped down the aisle, one or two of them turned to smile and nod at her, which heartened her greatly. Part way down the church sat the Parson’s housekeeper, Mistress Jenks, rigidly upright, and Prue Poulter beside her, smiling fondly. At the front, in the Bedham pew, sat Lord and Lady Tarnly and a very nervous Jessie Pursley, who had begged in vain not to be forced to hob-nob with these august personages.

In front of the altar stood Will, and as soon as he saw her, his stern expression lightened. He was dressed in his dark Sunday best, for lack of any more festive garments, but wore the new shirt of fine linen which she had sewn for him. Beside him stood Mr Rogers, who smiled encouragingly down the aisle at her.

What was she hesitating for? This was what she wanted more than anything. Taking a deep breath, she began to move slowly forward on the lawyer’s arm, walking with as even a gait as she could manage.

‘You’re sure of this?’ Mr Jamieson whispered to her as they started to move, for he could feel her fingers trembling.

‘Oh, yes, I’m very sure! I’m just a little nervous. I don’t like to be the centre of attention.’

‘You look very fine today, my dear.’ She had surprised him, for her hair was gleaming like best honey in the sunlight, and her skin flushed slightly, in a way that made her look younger, somehow. And that lace framed her neck and face very prettily. He had always liked lace against a woman’s soft skin.

As they reached the front of the church, Will turned to stand facing Sarah and they gave each other shy half-smiles.