As angry as Joseph felt at God, could he honestly wear it?
James took the brooch from his father’s hand and worked it into the plaid’s fabric. When in place, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “A right proper Highlander, ye are, lad.” He gave Joseph a playful punch to the arm. “But now I need to make myself beautiful.” With a wink he left the room.
Father sat on the cot. “Son, I want you to know Thomas Stewart is a good man. We have been friends for a very long time. But I am not blind to his faults. He wants what he wants, often thinking his way is best. Perhaps I am like that myself. You are my son and I would like some of our heritage to be remembered as well. It is selfish of me, no?”
Joseph joined his father. “No, it is not selfish and for you, I am glad to show our Huguenot heritage where the world can see. I always thought Gabriel would be the one to wear your pin.”
His father patted Joseph’s bare knee. “He is a Presbyterian minister. I am proud of him for that. Though very close, it is not the same as Huguenot. Perhaps one day you will pass this cross on to Wee Joseph.”
Joseph nodded his head.
His father slapped his thighs and stood. “I will see if your mother is yet ready.” At the door he turned. “Joseph, I am very proud of you. I always have been whether you farmed or built a thriving business. You are a good man. I am proud you are my son.”
Dazed, Joseph watched his father leave. He wiped the sleeve of his new liene across his eyes.
* * *
The Knox family, owners of Rath Mullen Abbey, greeted Sarah and showed her where she could change into her gown. The small room with walls of great grey stone stood off the sanctuary and hosted a high window but very little light, even in the middle of the day. Fortunately, candles glowed from the chandelier.
A dockhand brought in Sarah’s trunk, and Bridget opened it. The wedding dress lay wrapped in fabric to keep it from being crushed.
“Let’s make ye ready before I bring out yer gown.” Loosening the lacings on Sarah’s dress, Bridget helped her step from it and put it over the open trunk’s lid. She pulled the new chemise from beneath the gown, took the one Sarah shimmied out of and handed over the fresh linen in exchange.
Sarah’s skin tingled as the soft folds dropped down over her head. Plunging her arms through the sleeves, she sighed, giddy at the touch.
Her mother brought her a bench.
Seated, she rolled her stockings down and off, wiggling bare toes on the stone floor.
Bridget handed her the new pair and placed the new wedding shoes on the floor in front of her.
Sarah pulled each stocking up and slipped her foot into the first shoe.
There was a knock at the door. Bridget answered it, revealing Lucy.
“Is Joseph here?” Sarah needed to hear he was close. Her family had made sure they’d kept the two away from each other all day to ensure their luck.
Lucy grasped both of Sarah’s hands in her own. “He’s with Gabriel and Father in the sanctuary. I wanted to see what I could do to help.”
“I think I’m ready for the gown.” She put on the other shoe and fairly danced with anticipation.
As Bridget lifted it out of the trunk, Sarah took one more look at it. Of deep blue velvet, with sapphires down the wide sleeve, embroidery danced around each stone forming flowers. Lined in a lighter blue, the sleeves fell open almost to the floor. Bridget shook the gown, chasing away any rogue creases. The sapphires gleamed in the candlelight.
Sarah held the gown in front of her. “Do ye think Joseph will like it?”
“If I know my brother, I doubt he’ll even notice your gown. His eyes will only see you.”
Sarah laughed. “Then forget the dress. I am ready to go.”
“Nay, daughter.” Her mother knew she jested, but poor Bridget’s eyes appeared about to pop out of her head.
“Have no fear, Bridget. I have waited too long to wear this gown. I’ll not throw away the opportunity now.” Gathering the skirt, she raised it over her head and let the folds fall soft and warm. Her mother and Lucy helped her get the sleeves of her chemise into the gown’s sleeves while Bridget adjusted the waist and skirt. The train of the gown dragged elegantly behind. In the hand mirror she could see how the white of her chemise shown in bright contrast to the dark blue at the neckline. Her mother pinned the Luckenbooth brooch to a strip of matching velvet and tied it at Sarah’s neck.
“Sit and let Bridget brush your hair. I’ll get your veil.” Lucy lifted the delicate lace from the trunk and shook the wrinkles free.
Sarah turned her head to look, but Bridget made her turn back the way she’d been. “My mother needs to put it on me. She’s been happily married and needs to bless me.”
Lucy handed the veil to Mother and glanced about. “Where are the flowers?”
“They’re… No. Where are they?” Sarah jumped up, but Bridget pushed her down again.
“Sit still Mistress Sarah so I can finish yer hair. The flowers are just outside the door. I saw them as I came in.”
Sarah did as she was told, her hands smoothing her skirt. “Are you yet finished?”
“Done.” Bridgett stepped back. “Mistress, if ye will put the veil on yer daughter, I’ll fetch the flowers.”
Without a word, her mother draped the veil over her head, the filmy lace flowing down onto her face, her arms and back.
Bridget returned with the wreath of heather.
Sarah took it from her and held the tiny pink and white flowers to her face. Even through the veil she could still smell the honeyed fragrance. “Mother, will ye do it?” Her hands trembled as she handed over the wreath. She was nearly ready. Her heart thumped in anticipation.
Mother kissed her head before placing the wreath of heather on her crown.
Sarah stood.
Lucy straightened the train of the gown. Bridget handed her the bouquet of heather and myrtle. Her mother reached under the veil to wipe away a tear.
Someone knocked at the door and Bridget opened it.
Tanté Louise stepped in. “Dear heart, how very lovely you are. My son believes you are the most beautiful woman in the world, but he has yet to see just how beautiful. Are you ready?”
Sarah’s heart pounded so hard. She placed a hand to her chest to keep it from pounding its way out. Nodding, she let the women out before her to find their places.
Bridget hurried back. “Mistress, your horseshoe.” She dug it out of the bottom of the trunk and handed it to Sarah, ends up.
Her father met her at the door, draping her arm through his.
Stepping into the sanctuary, she first saw the rays of light filtered through the stained-glass windows on either side of the room. Gabriel stood at the front, dressed in his pastoral vestiges. He smiled and nodded.
And then the man next to him turned.
Joseph stood at the altar, regal in the Stewart plaid. The look on his face drew her forward. Her father’s hand held her in check.
At the altar, Father put her hand in Joseph’s, kissed her cheek and sat with Mother. Gabriel spoke. They spoke. But all she knew were Joseph’s eyes. Their hands were looped with Gabriel’s stole. Vows were made. But she only knew Joseph’s eyes.
Then he lifted her veil.
And she knew his kiss.
Chapter Thirty
Mistress Crockett. I want to welcome you to Bantry Bay and bring you some of my fresh bannocks.”
Sarah held the door wider. “Come in, come in. You must be Mistress Fontaine. How nice to finally meet you.”
Taking the basket of oat cakes, Sarah led her first visitor to the parlor. “I am still trying to decorate, but we should be able to sit and talk in here. Make yourself at home, and I’ll see to the tea.”
Sarah tried hard to walk from the room with grace, but as soon as she entered the hall, she rushed to the kitchen. “Bridget, I have company. She called me Mistress Crockett.”
Bridget laughed. “Aye, and that ye are, Mistress Crockett. What should sh
e call ye?”
Sarah’s fingers fluttered by her mouth. “I know. I need to get used to hearing it, though I do confess I love hearing it too much to just get used to it. Mistress Crockett.”
“Well, Mistress Crockett, ye might be wanting to return to yer guest before she thinks ye have no manners.”
Such a thought! She flew back to the parlor, pausing only long enough to pat her hair and take a calming breath before entering.
“Mistress Fontaine, I am so glad we can have this chat.” Sarah sat across from her guest on a straight-backed chair, a gift from her mother.
“And I also.” Mistress Fontaine’s lips curved into a smile as if she knew something no one else did.
And then it dawned. “The tea.” Sarah hopped up. “Och.” She nearly crashed into Bridget, entering with a tray of tea and bannocks.
“Your tea, mistress.” Bridget set the tray on the table, curtsied and surreptitiously winked at Sarah before leaving.
“My dear, please relax. You are doing a fine job.” Again, the smile returned.
The whole thing must seem terribly funny. Laughing at herself, she was glad to see her guest join in.
She poured the tea and leaned back in her chair. “Please, as much as I enjoy hearing Mistress Crockett, I think we will be dear friends, especially after this. Would you please call me Sarah?”
“Oui, if you will call me Anne. I am so glad to have another woman here on Bere Haven. The whole of Bantry Bay is covered with pockets of people who mostly keep to themselves. Jacques and I have reached out to the community in Christian charity, but it will be good to have someone who understands.” Anne Fontaine appeared to be close to her mother’s age though her hair now gleamed mostly grey. But the twinkle in her eyes gave away her truer, timeless age.
“Have you been here long?” Sarah took a polite sip, setting the cup back on the saucer in her hand. Nothing seemed to taste good this week. But she had too much to do to allow herself to get sick.
“We’ve passed about a year here. My hope is to move from the cottage into a proper home before the year is out.”
Sarah’s face warmed. Would Anne think her spoiled as well?
“Dear, don’t worry. We were all aware you were coming as a bride. We wanted you to have a nice house to begin your married life. My dear husband and I have been through so much together, I know that sometimes we will live in a cottage and sometimes we will live quite well. I have learned to live a contented life like St. Paul. We left everything behind in France to escape to freedom. And it took time before we had enough put aside to marry. My Jacques is not just a great thinker but highly practical as well. It is as it should be for you to be in this house.”
“You are very gracious, Anne.” Sarah’s eyes stung. She was becoming more emotional of late.
“And why shouldn’t I be? My Heavenly Father knows my needs and has never ceased to care for me.” Anne took a sip from her cup. “How is Wee Joseph adjusting to the move? Joseph has spoken constantly of you and his son.”
“He’s napping now. He seems to be enjoying his new room, though I still have much to do before it is finished.”
“No doubt you will have things in hand quite soon. Please let me know what I can do to help. I would enjoy doing what I can.”
“Thank you.”
Anne put her teacup on the table and stood. “Now, dear girl, I will take my leave.”
Sarah walked her guest to the door, wishing she would stay a while longer. Anne brought cheer and hope, and it would be nice to talk with a woman who had so much more experience with married life. Bridget, though good and kind, just didn’t ken. “You must come again, or perhaps I can stop by with Wee Joseph and meet your children one day.”
“That would be wonderful. Oh, my.” Anne slapped her palm to her forehead. “I nearly forgot. You have a rather large package waiting. I didn’t want it to become damaged, so I had Jacques bring it to our home. I think it may be a surprise from your groom.” She smiled that I-know-something smile and kissed Sarah on the cheek. “I’ll tell Joseph, if I see him on the way home. Thank you again for the tea, dear.”
“Thank you for the bannocks, Anne.”
Sarah closed the door and leaned against it. What could be in the package? A large package, from Joseph? He had given her Luckenbooth earrings to match her brooch for a wedding gift.
She walked into the parlor, picked up the tea tray and carried it to the kitchen. One thing for sure, she’d have a headache if she kept worrying about this mysterious gift until Joseph returned home.
“Bridget, I think I hear Wee Joseph. I’ll check on him, and then we can see what our next project will be.”
* * *
“Gentlemen, I’ve decided to go in through the front door as I don’t want to risk taking it up the back stairs.” Joseph pulled the wagon to a stop in front of his house. Jumping down from the seat, he motioned for the three men with him to follow and went to the wagon bed. A large wooden box about the length and width of a small coffin, lay ready to take inside.
“Please, with care, it is breakable.”
The men grunted. Joseph wondered at the wisdom in asking these hardened fishermen to carry something so fragile. But he had no choice. He couldn’t have moved it by himself.
They all got into position, picking up loops of rope Joseph had attached to the box. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”
“Oww. It didn’t seem this heavy when we put it in here.”
Joseph said nothing but had to agree. Sarah had better like his gift.
At the front door, they rested the box across the step edges while Joseph opened the latch.
“Wife of the house. I am bringing men up to our bedroom. You will need to make clear our way.”
The fisherman across from Joseph turned to the others. “They’re newly married.” All three chuckled.
“Husband of the house, welcome home and welcome to our guests.” Sarah appeared in the hall, coming from the kitchen area. “Oh my. What is this? Oh.” She nearly tripped squeezing past Joseph on the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“To the bedroom. These gentlemen will help me deliver your package there, and then I will handsomely pay them for their trouble while you open your gift.”
“But…but…”
“But you don’t want your gift? Gentlemen, I don’t think she wants it. We must take it back.”
“Wait.” The flustering only made her lovelier. Her eyes sparkled greener than the Emerald Isle itself. “Gentleman, Husband, I would be honored to lead the way to the bedroom.” With a swish of her skirts, Sarah turned and guided up the stairs.
“You heard my wife, let us go to the bedroom.” Joseph laughed, and the men just shook their heads, one muttering “Newly wedded, tis true.”
The box lay delivered across the bed. He’d have to retighten the bed ropes once this was over.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Joseph opened his purse and put two silver coins in each man’s outstretched hand. “I’ll escort you out.”
“Wha…we don’t get to see ʼer open it? Where’s the sport, man?”
“No, that fun I save for myself.” Joseph laughed and pushed the men from the room.
“Thank ye, sir.” The fishermen all tipped their caps and left.
Joseph closed the door behind them before returning to Sarah, taking the stairs two at a time.
“So, dear husband, how do I open it?” Sarah sat next to the box, tugging on a rope.
Withdrawing his boot dirk, Joseph held it up for Sarah’s inspection. “Allow me, dear wife.” A swift slice, and the ropes quickly fell away. He then pried the lid free and set it on the floor.
Sarah reached in, pushing sawdust and fine wood chips to the sides. “Perhaps we should have done this downstairs?”
“I didn’t want to risk breaking it without the box’s protection. I’ll help you clean. Just find the gift. I want to watch your face.” Joseph stepped back, crossed his arms and laughed at her expression.
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“Fine, then, if you won’t help me…” Sarah pushed more wood chips to the side. “This had better… Oh. Joseph.”
She found it. Now it was time to help. He brushed additional debris away and pulled the stand from the box, more sawdust sprinkling everywhere. Setting the stand on the floor, he turned it to allow Sarah to see her reflection in the full-length tilting mirror.
Her hands covered her mouth and her eyes grew round as saucers. “Joseph this had to have cost much too much money.” She didn’t take her eyes off it as she spoke.
She liked it.
“Sarah, I lived in a cottage but that didn’t mean I was penniless. I am not as poor as your father believes. We haven’t enough to waste on lavish living, but we will not want.”
“Did you make this?” Her left hand stayed at her lips, but her right hand reached out to trace the lifelike carvings along the oval top.
“I carved the base and frame and had the mirror put in while in London. Grinling Gibbons was commissioned to add the design. He agreed when he heard our story. Do you know, dear wife, he has a cravat he carved from wood that is so lifelike, a friend of his mistook it for the real thing? He showed it to me while I was there. A very talented man he is.”
Suddenly Sarah embraced him. “I had faith in our love, but I should have had more faith in you. I love you, Joseph.”
He ran his hands lightly up and down her back. “It is not a problem, my love. Do not cry. You don’t want the mirror to see your tears.” He pulled his hand into the sleeve of his shirt and dabbed her eyes.
“I can’t help it. I don’t think I can stop crying.”
“Oh, Sarah love, what is the matter?” He took her in his arms and stroked her hair.
“I don’t know. I’ve been like this all day. And even some yesterday. Mistress Fontaine came by today, and I even wanted to cry when she was here.”
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 50
