It was two days before the wedding that Gilbert realized that, when writing to James, he’d forgotten to tell him the date of his marriage.
It’s too late now
, he thought in dismay.
What is Father going to say
?
His father was still confined to bed, and spent most of his time sleeping or dozing, comatose from the effects of opium. On occasions when he refused the medication and got out of bed to stagger to the window and stare dazedly out into the garden, he was seized by pains in his chest and very little breath to enable him to crawl back to bed again. And it was out of the question that he would be able to attend Gilbert’s wedding.
But there were times when he was rested, and when Gilbert came home, he would send for him to come upstairs and give him the news of the day; in particular, to tell of what was happening at the various shipping companies; to ask if there was any news of missing ships and what was happening generally in the shipping fraternity of which he had been a very active member.
‘
The Arctic Star
has sailed,’ Gilbert reported. ‘I saw her off. Oh, yes, and I saw Pearson the other day and he sent his very best wishes to you; he told me he’s going ahead with his plans for a public park. I’ll take you when it’s opened,’ he said heartily. ‘And,’ he added more soberly, ‘I also met Norwood. He’s very concerned about safety standards on board the ships, particularly the steam vessels. There have been so many losses that he says if the ship owners don’t devise better standards for themselves then the
government may step in. He, too, sends his regards to you for a full recovery.’
Isaac nodded. They both knew that the possibility was highly unlikely.
Gilbert reluctantly decided that he would have to confess to his father about the omission of the wedding details to James. He was also worried that James might write and thank his father for the fifty pounds sent to him, and Isaac might well remember that he had asked Gilbert to send a hundred.
I’m walking on eggs here
, he pondered.
But I’ll straighten everything out just as soon as the wedding is over. I’ll sort out the money problem. I’ll find a home for the child and relieve Sammi; but there’s the rub – if Aunt Ellen has told Uncle William what she suspects, he might mention it to Father, and then I shall be in a scrape!
He had been tempted many times to confess all to his father: that he was the father of the infant and not James, and that he had been in debt to Craddock. In fact, there were times when he wondered if his father was anticipating some admission or disclosure as he compassionately asked if there was anything worrying him.
‘You didn’t ask your brother to come?’ he now whispered incredulously. ‘And did you also forget to tell him about me? Did that slip your mind also?’
‘No, no, Father. That’s why I forgot to tell him the date of the wedding. I was so intent on telling about your illness that it quite slipped my mind.’
‘Don’t tell Harriet that you forgot to mention the marriage,’ his father said wearily. ‘She won’t be very impressed. I am very disappointed, Gilbert. Very disappointed indeed. I had hoped he would come. And did you remember to send him some money?’
‘Yes, Father.’ Gilbert grew hot with shame. ‘I didn’t forget that.’
‘Oh! Here she comes. Let me see, let me see.’ Betsy stood on tiptoe, steadying herself on Tom’s arm.
‘How lovely she is, Sammi – I had no idea – so beautiful!’
The crowd of guests awaiting the bride’s arrival twittered and jostled as the carriage, pulled by four greys, their manes adorned by blue ribbons, drew up outside the raised arches of St John’s Church.
‘She looks charming, doesn’t she! How proud Gilbert must be,’ Sammi agreed. She took hold of Tom’s other arm as she strove to peer over the heads of the other guests.
Harriet was wearing a gown of deep blue velvet with a crinoline so wide that she had difficulty getting out of the carriage door, and on her head she wore a flowered coronet. Her father, Austin Billington, not to be outdone by the occasion, wore a dark grey frock-coat and a silk embroidered waistcoat, light grey knee breeches of the old style, with white stockings and black buckled shoes.
Tom smiled at the enthusiasm of Betsy and Sammi, and offered his arms to them both. ‘Come, ladies. Give me the pleasure of escorting you to your pew.’
Betsy ignored him and went on watching as Harriet’s train was adjusted before she made her entrance into the church, but Sammi took Tom’s arm and looked up at him, bright-eyed in anticipation of the happy occasion, and then lowered her eyes and blushed as he impulsively bent towards her and whispered, ‘Forgive me, Sammi, if you think me impertinent, but you are lovelier than any other here.’
She gently squeezed his arm. ‘Thank you, Cousin Tom,’ she said softly, her head down. ‘It’s very sweet of you to say so.’
Inwardly he groaned.
Cousin Tom. That’s what I am. No more than that
.
Some of the guests waited after the ceremony for their carriages to take them to the Station Hotel, where the reception was being held, whilst others who lived
in the town took either a sedan chair or decided to walk the short distance across the town, following the trail of the carriage which now held Gilbert and his new bride.
Sammi and her parents stood in the sunshine and chatted with her Uncle Arthur and Aunt Henrietta who had come from York with their daughters.
‘James isn’t here, I see.’ Arthur looked around at the mingling guests. ‘I trust he didn’t go off to London on that foolish whim of his?’
‘He did go to London,’ Ellen broke in, excusing James, even though she doubted that their York relatives knew the real reason for his leaving. ‘And why not?’ she insisted. ‘If young men want to go and seek their fortunes elsewhere, then we shouldn’t stop them. But I fear our menfolk are depleted. James and Mark, they’ve both gone off to seek experience or adventure, and if they find their fortunes too, they will do well.’ She looked across at Tom and Billy who were standing side by side. Both were tall: Tom, broad-shouldered and strong, Billy, slim and willowy, one dark, one fair, yet both from the same stock. ‘But we are lucky, are we not,’ she smiled, ‘to have two such deep-rooted and dependable young men as Tom and Billy?’ She gazed from one to the other. ‘These two, I feel, have more Foster character than any other of our kinsfolk. They will stay and make their mark here as their forebears did. They won’t be found wanting in any respect.’
Billy grinned at his mother and then, catching sight of someone over her shoulder, he raised an arm and waved.
Local townspeople, who knew the names of Billington and Rayner, had gathered to see the bride and the fashionable guests, and were now moving away. Only a straggle of poorly dressed women and barefoot children were still standing watching. One of the children was waving her hand.
‘Surely you are not familiar with those people,
Billy?’ Henrietta asked humourously. ‘Friends of yours!’
‘Not friends, Aunt. But I know them, some of them, yes.’
Sammi chuckled. ‘Have you got an admirer, Billy?’
Billy laughed and shook his head, then waved again as their carriage arrived. ‘Remind me to talk to you about her later, Sammi. There’s something I want to ask you.’
After the formal reception was over, a party was to be held in the evening for those who wished to stay. The ladies retired to a sitting-room to rest before the festivities began, while some of the men went off with Arthur Rayner to look at the trains and the engines in the station, and William went to Anlaby to sit with his brother Isaac and tell him all that had happened at the wedding.
‘Try not to mention the child or James, dear,’ Ellen said as she saw him off from the front of the hotel. ‘It won’t do him any good to become distressed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the upset of it all was the cause of his illness.’
He promised that he wouldn’t. ‘I feel so sad for him,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that he should miss his son’s wedding.’
‘Shall I come with you? Two of us could cheer him, perhaps, and it is such a strain talking to Mildred.’
‘No, my dear. It would seem odd if you didn’t stay. Bear up if you can and come later after the dancing.’
She leaned towards him. ‘And who shall I dance with, my love, when you are not there? There will be no young swain wanting to dance with an old woman like me, when there are so many bright-eyed young lovelies around.’
He bent to kiss her. ‘They don’t know what they are missing then, these young men. Poor things, they have to wait until they reach maturity to appreciate real beauty.’
But have you seen your eldest daughter, William?
she
mused as she waved him good-bye.
Sammi’s last veil of childishness is about to float away. I could see it as she dressed for the wedding today. She looks so lovely, she’s hovering on the brink of womanhood, yet she is ruining her chances of a good marriage in her concern for the child. I only hope …
She sighed and turned to go back into the hotel. She could only hope that her impulsive daughter didn’t become involved with anyone unsuitable.
I must watch out for her. And Betsy, ah, Betsy, there is some dangerous excitement simmering there. She, too, must be watched. Growing up is not easy – so many temptations
.
Ellen rejoined Mildred and Harriet’s mother and some other ladies to drink tea; Gilbert and Harriet were having their wedding photographs taken with their attendants, and Betsy and Sammi, bored of sitting, took a stroll around the foyer of the hotel until the festivities began. They had taken a second perambulation around the floor when a man and woman came through the doors. Sammi and Betsy merely glanced at the couple and went on with their discussion of who was wearing what, and what a very fashionable crowd had been invited, when the man came up to them.
The woman, colourfully dressed in a red-and-black gown and yellow silk shawl, stood back and gazed fixedly at the flowers which were arranged in urns around the foyer.
‘Miss Rayner, I think?’ He bowed, holding out his hand flamboyantly.
‘Yes!’ Sammi disregarded his hand. As far as she was aware, she didn’t know him. She couldn’t remember seeing him in church, but perhaps he had been sitting at the back.
‘I thought so. You can tell a Rayner anywhere with that lovely red hair.’
Sammi raised her eyebrows at the compliment, but it wasn’t well received.
Pure flattery
, she thought.
Who is he to make such familiar compliments?
‘May I introduce myself, Miss Rayner? Charles Craddock. I’m a good friend of your brother Gilbert.’
Betsy giggled and put her hand to her mouth, and Sammi, trying not to laugh, raised her chin as she spoke. ‘Then your friendship is lacking in intimacy, sir, if you think that Gilbert is my brother, for he is not.’
Craddock’s mouth opened then closed, and he appeared so lost for words that Sammi, against her better judgement, took pity on him. ‘He is my cousin, therefore we share the same name – and the red hair.’
Craddock bowed again, recovering his composure instantly. ‘A thousand pardons, Miss Rayner. Gilbert has spoken of his sister, and I assumed – wrong to do so, of course, one should never—’ He turned to Betsy, who was watching with obvious amusement. ‘And another cousin, perhaps?’ His eyes paid court to her low-cut bodice. ‘Or – a friend? Gilbert is a lucky man indeed to know such lovely ladies.’
‘Second cousin,’ Betsy replied brightly. ‘Elizabeth Foster. We don’t bear the same name or the red hair as our kinsfolk.’ She glanced across at Craddock’s companion who was tapping her fan against her hand. ‘Your wife is getting impatient, Mr Craddock, she is feeling neglected. I think you are about to receive a rap on the knuckles.’
‘Not my wife,’ he replied with a cavalier attitude. ‘My, er, my companion for the occasion; may I introduce—’
‘We must look for Mama, Betsy,’ Sammi intercepted. ‘Perhaps some other time, Mr Craddock. Please excuse us.’
‘Sammi!’ Betsy murmured as they moved away. ‘I didn’t know you could be so disparaging. You are usually so polite.’
‘I was not impolite, Betsy,’ Sammi protested. ‘My manners were commendable, I’m sure, unlike his. What a fawning, grovelling toad.’ She shuddered. ‘He made me quite angry, pretending that he knew
Gilbert so well. I’m sure that Gilbert wouldn’t entertain such company as his.’
Betsy turned her head towards Sammi. ‘We are merely country girls, Sammi,’ she laughed. ‘We know nothing of business life, when people of differing personalities are thrown together. Mr Craddock may well be a colleague of Gilbert’s. And he
has
been invited to the wedding!’ She inclined her head gracefully as Mr Craddock looked in their direction. ‘I wonder if he’s rich? His clothes are well cut and his watch chain is gold.’ She pulled an impish face and said shockingly, ‘And I rather think the lady with him is a—’ she whispered from behind her hand into Sammi’s ear.
‘Betsy!’ Sammi stared shocked and wide-eyed at her cousin. ‘How can you say such a thing? You don’t know. How do you know?’
Betsy laughed and adjusted her dress about her shoulders. ‘I just do, that’s all.’
They heard the sound of music and wandered back into the reception room. A pianist and a violinist were playing a medley of waltzes by Johann Strauss, and groups of people were sitting or standing and tapping their feet or fans in time to the music.
‘I don’t see Tom or Billy anywhere.’ Sammi glanced around the room. ‘Mama is here, and Aunt Mildred, and Mrs Billington, and here are Gilbert and Harriet just come back.’
‘Here they are.’ Betsy looked towards the door. ‘And just look at them. They’ve had a drop or two to drink!’
Not inebriated by any means, but certainly quite merry, Tom and Billy stood in the doorway with their arms around each other’s shoulders. ‘Hello, Sammi – Betsy. We’ve been looking at the choo-choo trains.’ Billy beamed at them as he and Tom weaved their way towards them, ‘But we got bored, so we sneaked off for a glass of ale.’
‘Or two,’ Betsy commented. ‘Now who is going to
dance with us, for neither of you will be able to waltz without falling over.’