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Sarah could hardly believe that she’d been married to Christopher for longer than she’d known him. Nine days. She supposed, however, that if one’s entire relationship was less than a month’s acquaintance, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

Except that it was.

She had never intended to care for her husband.

She didn’t wish to love obsessively like her father had.

Not that she was in love with Christopher.

Nor was she obsessed with him. She merely liked him more than anyone else of her acquaintance.

Like her cousin Ralph, he treated her like an equal and not like a silly female who couldn’t understand complicated things.

But unlike Ralph, Christopher sought actively to please her.

Her London suitors had brought her hothouse bouquets and chocolates.

Christopher would bring her one solitary yellow flower that he’d plucked when he’d thought of her.

And when he’d returned from visiting Reverand Robinson in the village on Thursday, he’d brought her an entire box of ribbons, tassels, and lace.

He said that he had stopped at the village shop, and since he did not know precisely what Sarah would like, he’d purchased the lot, along with a lovely set of threads.

It was the most thoughtful gift she’d ever received.

He’d also brought home small gifts for his sisters. He’d given Margaret several sheets of music, and she’d thanked him quietly. Deborah had squealed when he’d handed her five silver bangles. She’d instantly put them on her wrist and danced about the room.

Sarah had discovered that her youngest sister-in-law had quite exuberant spirits.

She never walked when she could skip and had great difficulty sitting still.

After breakfast each morning, Sarah had begun to teach both young ladies how to play the harp.

Margaret picked up the notes and fingerings quickly.

Sarah felt confident that Margaret was quite capable of fulfilling her dream to learn more musical instruments.

Deborah, however, did not have the patience to listen or to practice the harp, nor the pianoforte.

Although, she did have a lovely singing voice and happily sang while her sister played the keys.

This morning Margaret had played a simple piece of harp music perfectly.

Deborah was still working on her scales and humming.

Sarah doubted the younger sister would become proficient at the instrument.

After squirming for most of the lesson, she’d left early to prepare for the arrival of the sewing circle.

Margaret had stayed in the sitting room to practice the pianoforte.

Sarah strummed the harp to match the tunes her sister-in-law played.

Margaret was a very talented pianist, having learned at school.

Sarah could not recall ever hearing a better performer amongst the young ladies of the ton .

If ever asked to present, Margaret would shine.

Deborah was another matter, but Sarah needn’t worry about her presentation yet.

Younger sisters were not presented into London Society until their elder sister was married.

Margaret played the final chord from Handel. “Will you come to our sewing circle?”

Sarah had not wished to overshadow her sisters-in-law, nor had she much interest in the gossip of young ladies, so she had not attended the first meeting on Tuesday that was hosted by Miss Wentworth. “With such an invitation, how could I refuse?”

The younger woman smiled as she stood up from the pianoforte. “Deborah asked Mr. Wigan to set up a circle of chairs in the blue parlor.”

“The perfect room for this time of day. Allow me to collect my kit, and I shall join you both there.” Sarah stood reluctantly from the harp.

She’d found herself practicing it in earnest when Margaret and Deborah were not there and had hoped to spend more time playing it today.

The tips of her fingers had been sensitive at first, but after several days of strumming the strings, they’d toughened up.

When she played, she would close her eyes and pretend that her mother was there listening to her.

Sarah wished she hadn’t ignored the instrument for so many years, because playing the harp made her feel closer to her mother.

Sarah brought her new threads from Christopher to the young ladies’ sewing circle’s second meeting, only three days after their first. Sarah did not think the sewing circle needed to gather quite so often, but she was fairly certain that the young ladies were simply delighted to have an excuse to get together and gossip.

She took a seat but allowed Deborah and Margaret to greet and welcome their friends as the hostesses.

She happily set about to alter her wedding dress for Nelly.

Not even her lady’s maid was better than Sarah with a needle.

“Miss Everett is visiting her grandmother. Should we invite her to join our group during her stay?” Miss Wentworth asked.

Margaret looked up from her sewing. “Who is Miss Everett?”

Miss Lily smirked. “She is only the daughter of a sailor. Her grandfather Mr. Stephens was the vicar before he retired and Mr. Robinson took his place.”

The other young ladies paused for a little sigh at the mention of the handsome new vicar.

Deborah stuck out her chin. “If she’s the daughter of a sailor, I bet she smells of fish.”

The younger Whitman girls, as well as Miss Lily, laughed loudly at Deborah’s wit. One of them even made fish lips.

“Besides, there are not enough seats,” Miss Whitman said with another chuckle.

Sarah, however, was not amused. The daughter and sister of canal men should not turn up her nose at the daughter of a lieutenant in the navy.

She opened her mouth to correct her sister-in-law but then closed it again.

Most of these young ladies were nearly ten years her junior.

Their ideas and impressions were still forming.

It was often easier to laugh with the other girls than be laughed at.

Clipping the end of her thread, Sarah said, “Some women create their positions in Society by tearing other women down. My mother made her mark by building other ladies up, and in my opinion, if there aren’t enough seats at the table, then we can always fetch another chair.”

The girls did not laugh or smile at Sarah’s statement, but Deborah’s face turned a dark red. Sarah had not meant to embarrass any of them—only to help them realize that individually they were much nicer than they were as a group.

“There are plenty of chairs at Manderfield Hall,” Deborah said at last. “I, for one, would like to invite Miss Everett to join us. I daresay Wigan wouldn’t mind carrying in another seat.”

“And if there aren’t enough chairs, we could always sit on the blankets outside,” Margaret added. “The weather is so lovely this time of year.”

Sarah smiled approvingly at both her sisters-in-law. They were good girls. They just needed an older woman’s experience and guidance. Sarah had said and done many foolish things in her youth, and her mother’s gentle reprimands had helped her become a kinder, wiser woman.

Miss Lily clapped her hands. “I should love a sewing picnic. Perhaps at my house next Wednesday?”

Miss Wentworth set down the little dress she was sewing for the poor. “I shall stop at Mrs. Stephens’s rooms today and invite Miss Everett on my way home, if that is agreeable with you all.”

There was not one naysayer in the group.

Sarah left the room to call for tea. Mr. Wigan assured her that he would bring tea and a generous spread of cakes and biscuits for their guests.

Walking back from the servants’ quarters, she saw Christopher coming in from the front door.

He was wearing his riding coat. The handsome garment had only two capes—many fashionable gentlemen wore as many as twelve—but her husband didn’t need extra padding in his shoulders.

He was a strong and handsome man. And every time that she saw him, Sarah’s breath caught a little, and it felt like there were butterflies in her chest.

Smiling, Christopher strode up to her. The fluttering in Sarah’s chest expanded to her belly. She felt a subtle warmth all over by just being near him. “Did you enjoy your ride with Mr. Whitman and Mr. Robinson?”

“Very much. We marked where to divert the river and the path it would take to create Sir Oscar’s lake,” he said, pulling a letter out of his coat pocket.

“And I stopped at the postmaster and picked up the mail.” He opened the letter to reveal a poster with her mother’s picture in the middle, including details of where to give information of her whereabouts for a modest fee.

He handed it to her. The wood printing was not quite as accurate as Christopher’s sketch, but it was still a remarkable likeness to her mother.

“I authorized my man of business to put posters at every port and send copies to our foreign contacts. I am hopeful that someone will send word of having seen Lady Manders.”

Instinctively, Sarah rolled onto her tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Christopher. You have made me more hopeful than I have been in years.”

His skin tasted both sweet and salty, and he smelled like the forest. Sarah felt her cheeks flush with pleasure.

Her husband’s face turned the same shade of dark red that Deborah’s had only a few minutes before.

Sarah wondered how it would feel to brush her lips against his mouth.

Their first and only kiss had happened so quickly.

Would his beard still feel scratchy on her skin?

Or soft like the curls on the top of his head?

Would he taste salty or sweet? She realized that she was staring at his lips and forced her eyes away from his handsome face.

“I was wondering if you would like to go with me to meet some of the tenants today,” he said in a low voice. “Or another time, if that would be better.”

Her husband was as nervous with her as she was with him. A surge of warmth grew in her chest. She could be friends with such a kind and thoughtful man. She might even grow to love him.

Sarah smiled at him and tried not to stare at his lips again. “Your sisters are hosting their first sewing circle, and I don’t think they need me. Am I correct to assume that you prefer to ride rather than take a carriage?”

Christopher gave her a curt nod. “Aye. I don’t like being closed in.”

Sarah nodded. “As it happens, I have sewed myself the most beautiful new riding habit, and I have been itching to show it off. I used some of the blonde lace you gave me for the embroidery work on the bodice. It turned out very pretty, if I do say so myself. If you’ll give me a quarter hour, I’ll get changed. ”

His lips quirked upward, but he held in his smile.

As she walked back to her dressing room and pulled the cord for Nelly, she wondered why he was so reluctant to show his emotions.

Perhaps it was because Christopher was a man.

The male sex was supposed to be reserved with their feelings and not wear their hearts on their sleeves.

Not that either Uncle Oscar or Ralph had ever attempted to mask their emotions.

Everyone knew when Ralph was joyous and when he was miserable.

He had always been a terrible cardplayer; he could not keep a straight face.

And Uncle Oscar smiled often, usually when something vacuous or nonsensical was said.

He delighted in the ridiculous and was affectionate with his wife and children. And with Sarah.

She couldn’t remember ever hugging her own father, nor having him pat her head or shoulder, like Uncle Oscar did.

Come to think of it, Papa had openly showed his emotions.

Mostly his anger. He’d yelled, stomped, punched the wall, and thrown things.

When Sarah had been little, she’d been grateful he wasn’t interested in being in the same room as her.

Sometimes she’d curtsied to him before he and Mama went to dinner, but she never ate her meals with either of them.

The only time she’d been allowed to play with her mother before she’d been sent away to school was in the early afternoons.

“Already tired of the younglings?” Nelly asked.

Throwing back her head, Sarah laughed. “Were we ever that small and silly?”

Her maid answered with a straight face. “Sillier.”

Sarah nudged her friend with her elbow. “Particularly over a very handsome footman by the name of Guy.”

She could see her friend’s dimple peeping out as she pretended to be serious. “You rang for me, my lady?”

“Yes, Miss Mills. I need you to try on your wedding gown. I think I’ve made all the needed alterations. And then I would love assistance in putting on my new riding habit.”

Sarah played the maid first and helped unbutton Nelly’s day frock and set it on the bed.

She carefully pulled the wedding gown over her friend’s head.

The dress was truly a work of art, and Sarah enjoyed seeing another person wear it.

Nelly beamed and looked more stunning than ever.

The soft white accented her gorgeous dark hair.

She turned around in a full circle, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

“I think I shall bring it in a little here and here,” Sarah said pinching the two areas on the side of the bodice that needed darts to better contour to Nelly’s frame. “Then it shall be perfect for you to wear in a fortnight. I can’t wait until Guy sees you in it.”

Nelly twirled around one last time. “He’ll lose his mind, he will.”

Sarah helped Nelly take off the gown, and she pinned the two places she wished to take in. Then her maid helped her put on her purple riding habit with blonde braided lace in rows on the bodice. It was both fashionable and original. She hoped Christopher would lose his mind when he saw her in it.