Johnson waited outside Garston Hall in his new outfit of green and black. He doffed his topper as Sammi and her father, he dressed in a pale grey tailcoat and dark pin-striped trousers, appeared at the door, and murmured approvingly as he helped her into the carriage for their drive to the church at Tillington.
The organ resounded and everyone stood as she smilingly came down the aisle on her father’s arm.
Everyone is here
, she thought,
except for three: James and Mark and Betsy
. She felt a lump in her throat as she thought of Betsy and saw Luke standing alone with baby Elizabeth in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to come to the wedding or reception, saying that he would come to the dance which was being held later in the day for the farm hands and villagers of Monkston and Tillington.
But both Sammi and Tom had insisted. ‘Please come, Luke,’ Sammi had pleaded. ‘Come for Betsy’s sake if not your own; and bring her daughter, your daughter, to see her uncle wed.’
Tom’s relatives, his uncle, the miller from Beverley, stood in a pew at the back with his wife and three of his six children, the York Rayners, neighbouring farmers, her mother’s cousins from the Wolds, and other guests, all crowded the pews. And Tom’s father, with Jenny in attendance, was given a special smile as she passed him.
Adam was gurgling and chanting in Gilbert’s arms and she reached out to him as she passed, catching hold of him by his chubby fingers.
Her brothers, Richard and Billy, handsome in tailcoats of grey, with red waistcoats and grey striped trousers, and attending as ushers, had greeted the guests as they filed into church.
She raised her eyes towards the altar steps and saw
three figures standing there. Mr Collinson, the vicar, with a welcoming smile as he waited to greet her, and George as his brother’s best man, nervously fingering his high white collar, his face wreathed in a bashful grin.
But her eyes were drawn to the third figure, who held out his hand towards her. Tom, tall and handsome in a dark blue frock coat with a velvet collar, doeskin trousers and a pale cream rose in his buttonhole; his dark hair brushed and gleaming curled on his collar, his mouth serious and tender, and with love in his eyes.
The tables in the dining-room were decorated with the first summer roses, cream and gold, to complement Sammi’s gown and flowers; they were garlanded with ropes of sweet-smelling herbs and foliage, lime blossom, golden marjoram, white daisies and buttercups, and bound together with wild grasses.
The wedding breakfast of consommé, lemon sole, asparagus, hare roasted with mustard and thyme, with an array of vegetables, was consumed before glazed salmon stuffed with dill, honey and lemon, was brought on to the table, followed by duck and roast goose; and before the desserts of syllabub and burnt cream, apple and plum tart were brought in, a sorbet to freshen the palate was served.
The guests settled back, replete after the feast, to listen to the speeches. George spoke first, bashful in his unaccustomed finery of claret-coloured tailcoat, and blushing and stumbling over his first public speech as he thanked everyone for being there, and then sat down in relief as Sammi’s father rose to give his loving praise of Sammi and her fine choice of a husband.
‘The Fosters and the Rayners,’ he began, ‘have once again joined their hands in matrimony. My mother and father – Sammi’s grandparents – who were also Tom’s great aunt and uncle, were a Foster
and a Rayner who defied convention by marrying one another, in the same church in Tillington as these young people did today. Their marriage was a long and happy one. They were forever united and,’ he paused emotionally, ‘I like to think that somewhere they still are.’ He raised his glass. ‘Let us drink a toast to two more pairs of hands, as strong and steadfast as those others, who have joined together today.’
They raised their glasses and as Sammi and Tom linked arms and drank from each other’s glass, they gave the tribute. ‘To the Fosters and the Rayners. May they always be united.’
As they sat down again and waited for Tom to reply, Gilbert rose to his feet. ‘If I might intrude into the proceedings,’ he said. ‘I have a message from James which I would like to give. He tells us that he is very happy in Italy, but now that he is away from us all, he finds that he misses us and would welcome a visit if anyone could undertake the journey. The message is sent with special regard to Sammi, whom he describes as the best friend he ever had, and ends by saying that he hopes that Tom realizes what a lucky fellow he is.’
Tom smiled and kissed Sammi’s cheek, which brought a round of applause from the assembled guests.
As the laughter died down, George rose to his feet again. He fished an envelope from out of his pocket. ‘I have a letter too,’ he said, ‘it came a week or two back, and Da asked me to read it to you. It’s from Mark.’ There was a murmur from his attentive listeners and anxious eyes watched as he opened up the letter.
‘“
Dear Da
,”’ he began, hesitatingly. ‘“
I am about to begin a new life. After being so long away from home, I have at last come to realize that all I left behind was good and true, and was all that any man could wish for. However, Da, as you have always known, and which I have only just come to know, I am an obstinate, mule-headed sort
of fellow who never recognized a good thing when he saw it
.”’ George blinked his eyes and continued. ‘“
I do know now, as I wait here for my passage to Australia, and I can tell thee by letter what I could never tell in speech, how much I care for all of thee. For thee, Da, who will always be in my thoughts; for my brother Tom who should break down ’barriers and set out to capture ’girl we both know he loves
.”’
Tom held Sammi’s hand as he listened.
‘“
For my cheery brother George, who finds such merriment in life. If I could only find half of his cheerfulness I would think me a lucky fellow. And for Betsy
.”’ There was a stunned silence as George paused, swallowing hard, knowing what Mark did not.
‘“
For Betsy, I ask for her forgiveness for my harsh words before I left, but tell her that I only uttered those words because I cared. God bless and keep thee all. I don’t know if or when I will see any of thee again, but I will write when I am settled. Think of me sometimes and know always that I am thy everloving son. Mark Foster
.”’
George turned over the page. ‘He put a postscript. He says, “
I ought to tell thee that I’m not travelling alone, so don’t fret on that account. I have a companion with me. She asks that we travel in friendship only and I respect her wishes, but one day I hope for more. Mark
.”’
Some of the guests who had a long way to travel departed after the wedding breakfast, and others rested or walked around the garden while the servants prepared for the jollifications which were to be held in one of the meadows. A marquee had been erected and a fire lit in a brick oven to cook sausages and pies, and two spits had been fixed over open fires to roast a pig and a side of beef, which were already crackling and spitting and sending mouthwatering smells floating across the fields, urging the villagers who were tramping along the lane between Tillington and Monkston to make haste.
Lamps were placed in readiness in strategic places;
at the gate to the meadow, around the square of mown grass where dancing would begin, and a low wooden staging was pronounced safe for the musicians; an accordionist, a fiddler, a drummer and a penny whistler.
‘This will be the best of all,’ Sammi said, as she and Tom walked arm in arm to see if all was in place.
‘No, the best of all will be when we are alone, Mrs Foster,’ Tom murmured in her ear. ‘When I can tell you, and show you, how much I love you.’
‘I know it already, Tom,’ she whispered. ‘And I love you too, so very much.’
He shook his head and smiled. ‘No, you don’t know, Sammi, and it will take a lifetime to tell.’
The meadow started to fill with crowds of laughing, merry people. Sammi and Tom stood by the gate and greeted everyone, inviting them to partake of the food and wine and the ale, which was stacked in barrels beside the trestle tables, which were groaning with meat and pastries, sweet cakes and trembling jellies.
‘Who’s this?’ Tom looked across the meadow to the house, where a hired chaise was rolling into the drive.
They watched and then saw Doctor Sheppard descend and look about him.
‘Stephen!’ Billy hurried across the grass. ‘You came after all!’ Stephen Sheppard was greeted warmly by Billy who shook him by the hand. ‘I’m so glad you could come. Your patients could be left after all?’
‘My uncle took over for me.’ The doctor beamed at Billy. ‘He felt that it was most important that I come.’
‘Important?’ Billy said, puzzled. ‘We wanted you to come, yes, after your kindness to Betsy; Sammi would have been disappointed if you hadn’t come.’
Stephen nodded sombrely, then unable to conceal his information any longer gleefully said, ‘I’ve seen Pearson! He’s looking for you. He has news!’
‘Yes? Tell me!’
‘He wouldn’t say. But he’s setting up a meeting with the two benefactors, and he needs you there to finalize everything! That’s what he told me to say. Billy, it means that everything is in place! Your children’s home is about to become a reality!’
Billy gaped, unable to comprehend, that at last what he had set out to achieve was about to come to fruition. ‘I’ll travel back with you tonight! There’s not a minute to lose. We must find a site. Find builders – and tell the children.’
‘Oh, Billy!’ Sammi and Tom had come up to welcome Stephen Sheppard and overheard. ‘What wonderful news, and today of all days!’
He was filled with enthusiasm. ‘I will be faithful to these children, Sammi. They will have food and clean water without begging for it, a warm bed at night. They will have training for a trade. I will see that they do! On my life, I will promise them!’
She put her arms around her brother and hugged him. ‘How good you are, Billy. But you will give them more than those things. You will give them hope. You Knight of the Poor!’
He flushed at her praise. ‘If this succeeds, Sammi, just think how much more can be achieved.’ He glanced at Tom, not wanting to darken his wedding day. ‘Perhaps a home for young women who are in trouble? A place for abandoned children.’ He clenched his fists. ‘So much to be done!’
Billy took Stephen to meet his parents and tell them the news, and to say that he would be leaving for Hull that evening in order to attend the meeting.
They chatted for a while and then Billy excused himself to go and tell Gilbert who had first arranged the introduction with Zachariah Pearson.
‘Don’t tire yourself, Victoria!’ Ellen called to Victoria, who was running across the grass.
‘Mrs Rayner. Forgive me for saying this.’ Stephen Sheppard hesitated, and then continued, ‘You may
think me impertinent, but Billy has told me how anxious you are over Victoria’s health.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I worry constantly.’
‘Then if I might make so bold, I suggest that you don’t. Your anxieties, no matter how you try to hide them, will affect her.’
‘But I don’t tell her,’ she began.
‘There will be no need. She may well be sensitive and if so, she will know when you are anxious and that anxiety will be transferred to her. She has been ill, I know,’ he said sympathetically, ‘but I suggest that she tries to lead a normal life, meet other young people, so that she forgets about her illness. She is almost a young woman.’ He turned to watch her. ‘Could I offer the suggestion that you take her away somewhere warm for a few months? Perhaps to Italy. Take her in the autumn – give her a good start before winter.’
‘Why, Doctor Sheppard, what a wise young man you are.’ Ellen looked at him and, with a gleam in her eye, said, ‘You wouldn’t care to come and live in Holderness, would you?’
He laughed at her implication and said, ‘I fear not. From what I gather, Holdernessians rarely need the services of a physician, but I am sorely needed in town.’
‘You are right,’ she agreed. ‘On the whole, they are a hardy breed.’
Doctor Sheppard left her and she looked across to where Thomas was being made comfortable by Jenny amongst a crowd of other men, and who was then shooed away by him, followed closely like a gambolling puppy, by George.
I think perhaps I might bring Jenny to us
, she mused discerningly,
if Thomas will part with her; and I’ll find an older housekeeper for Sammi
.
She lifted the hem of her figured blue silk gown from the ground, and walked across to where Mildred was sitting on a blanket- covered bench, with another
blanket tucked around her. ‘Whatever is wrong with Anne?’ she asked. ‘Are you not enjoying yourself, dear?’
Anne was kneeling on the grass with her head buried in her mother’s lap. ‘She says that everyone is getting married but her,’ Mildred said resignedly.
‘Oh?’ Ellen waved to her husband who appeared to be looking for her. ‘But I thought she had an understanding with a young man?’
‘She had, unofficially, but he seems to have faded away since the business with the bank.’
‘Then he’s not worth crying over, my dear,’ Ellen said cheerfully. ‘Mildred! I’ve had an idea. How would you and Anne like to accompany Victoria and me to Italy in the autumn? We could visit Florence and you could see James.’
Anne sat up and wiped her eyes; Mildred gazed at Ellen in astonishment. ‘Would you, would you like me to come?’
‘Why not?’ Ellen asked quietly. ‘We used to be friends.’
‘Planning without me?’ William caught the conversation as he approached. ‘Ellen! How could you?’
‘Would you come?’ she asked eagerly. ‘After harvest?’
‘To Italy!’ Mildred breathed, and her face flushed with animation. ‘I never thought – never ever thought!’
‘Shall we then, Mildred?’ Ellen sparkled with enthusiasm. ‘It is a beautiful country, I believe. It would suit us very well!’
‘Yes.’ Mildred looked up and her warm smile encompassed them all. ‘I think it would.’
George, Richard and Luke had carried Thomas in his chair across the meadow towards a group of other men who were in earnest conversation. ‘Leave me now,’ he said to Jenny who was hovering over him. ‘Go off and enjoy thaself. George!’ he commanded, ‘Look after that wench. Make sure none of these
ne’er-do-wells bother her.’ He nodded towards a group of village lads who were eyeing the retreating Jenny.