Page 38 of A Sea View Christmas (On Devonshire Shores)

TWENTY

Soon after the breakfast the bride and bridegroom departed. They had a long day’s journey before them.

—Caroline Austen (Jane Austen’s niece), letter

The next morning, Sarah rose eagerly. She washed and dressed in the pretty blue gown that had been made for her when she stood as Claire’s bridesmaid last autumn. Since attendants were usually unmarried younger sisters or friends, Sarah had asked Georgie and Effie to be her bridesmaids.

Fran, former lady’s maid and longtime friend, came to Sea View to curl and arrange Sarah’s hair as she had for all the Summers sisters upon their wedding days.

“Four married. One to go,” Fran said, grinning at Georgiana. She insisted on curling and arranging Georgiana’s and Effie’s hair as well.

When everyone was dressed and ready, Mamma took Sarah’s hands and smiled at her. “You look beautiful and happy, my dear, and that makes me happy.”

Sarah smiled in return, pleasure and satisfaction flowing through her.

Then they all went downstairs and began donning warm cloaks.

Mr. Gwilt assisted Sarah with hers and said in a low, confidential voice, “You’re as pretty as Mrs. G on our wedding day.

Now don’t you worry, Miss Sarah. We will take good care of Sea View and your mamma.

You go and enjoy married life. All right? You deserve every happiness.”

Sarah’s heart hitched. “Thank you, Mr. Gwilt.”

The ladies would be taken to church in the Huttons’ carriage while the gentlemen walked. The bridegroom had left earlier to confer with the vicar and make sure all was in order.

The women went outside and climbed into the carriage, which waited on the drive, festooned with greenery and ribbons.

A few minutes later, when they arrived at the parish church and entered, Mr. Henshall was already standing near the altar, looking handsome in a dark coat and tartan kilt. Sarah could hardly believe she was about to marry her handsome, talented Scotsman.

She recalled the mixed feelings she had experienced during Claire’s wedding, wondering if anyone would ever vow to comfort, honor, and keep her. For she too had longed to be held. Loved. Cherished.

And now she knew she was. Had been all along.

Sarah had expected a small turnout due to the last-minute nature of the wedding and the cold weather. But she was heartened to see many friends in attendance. So much to be thankful for.

When her extended family and friends had filled the foremost pews, the Reverend Mr. Jenkins stood ready to read the service, and in place of a father, dear Mr. Hornbeam gave her away.

Callum’s gaze remained fixed on her as Sarah joined him at the altar, admiration and profound joy evident in his expression.

The vicar began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and His church.”

Sarah did her best to focus and hear each word over her rapidly beating heart. She wanted to commit every moment to memory.

The vicar continued, “First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord.”

Would she and Callum have children? Perhaps the son that would ensure his entailed estate remained in the immediate family? Sarah sincerely hoped so.

“Callum Henshall, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Without hesitation Callum replied, “I will.”

The clergyman turned to her and asked her a variation of the same questions.

Blinking back tears, Sarah nodded. “I will.”

Then they repeated their vows, and Callum placed a simple gold ring on her finger.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship....”

Sarah’s skin tingled to hear him say those words in his rich, accented voice. She looked forward to her wedding night with equal parts eagerness and trepidation.

The vicar prayed over them, blessed them, and pronounced them man and wife.

Sarah felt blessed indeed.

After the ceremony and the writing of the marriage lines into the parish register, the new Mr. and Mrs. Henshall departed the church hand in hand.

Georgiana looked at Effie, and the two shared satisfied smiles.

They returned to Sea View for an informal wedding breakfast, mostly consisting of the copious amounts of food left over from the previous night’s party.

The new-wed couple with their attendants, Effie and Georgiana, remained only long enough to eat a few bites and to accept the well-wishes of friends and the embraces of family. Mamma held Sarah tight before letting her go.

Then they gathered their baggage in the hall, which Mr. Gwilt carried out to the post chaise Mr. Henshall had hired to transport his bride to her new home.

Everyone bundled up and followed them outside to the chaise to see them off.

Claire said, “We will join you in the spring, remember. And we will bring you back with us then, Georgiana.”

A teary Mamma added, “Take care, my dears.”

Their other family members waved and shouted final farewells.

Georgie opened the chaise window, and Colin came to stand near it. He said, “I am glad you are getting to travel, but I will miss you.”

“Will you? Well, when I return, you shan’t recognize me. I shall be so much more mature and refined.”

“I hope not. Don’t ever change, Georgiana Summers. I like you just the way you are.”

Georgie swallowed and feigned more confidence than she felt. “I should hope so!”

Mr. Henshall shut the door. “Time to go.”

Colin lingered at the window. “No falling in love with a Scot now, hear? I expect you back here by summer, if not before.”

She gave him a saucy grin. “No promises.”

The horses began to move. Over the rumble of hooves and tack, he called, “Wait! No promises about coming back or about falling in love with a Scot?”

“Neither one!” She grinned and waved, first to him, then to her assembled family and friends: Claire, William, Mira.

Emily and James. Viola, Jack, and Mrs. Denby.

Mamma and Cora. Mr. and Mrs. Hornbeam. Mr. Gwilt, Mrs. Besley, Lowen, Jessie, and Bibi.

All the people she loved and who loved her.

She would miss them, but she was glad to be embarking on an adventure.

To be traveling somewhere new and experiencing new things.

And despite teasing Colin, she had every intention of coming back.

And when she returned, she would be older, more well-traveled, and more experienced.

A woman of the world. Then, look out, Sidmouth. And look out, Colin Hutton.

As the hired post chaise traveled north, Sarah shared a smile with her new husband and settled back against the cushions.

She recalled the last time she had set off on the long journey to Scotland.

How agitated she had been, how sure that Sea View and Mamma would suffer in her absence.

She had been unable to give up her desire for control—to try to manage everything and everyone—for the desire of her heart.

Unable to rest in the knowledge that God held her family in His hands.

On that last trip she had felt the cord that bound her to Sea View and to her family stretch tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap and tear a hole in her chest. Now she felt happy and hopeful.

Of course her attachment to her family would remain strong, yet it no longer tethered her. Those bonds would easily survive the distance and the time apart.

In the coach now, Sarah silently thanked God yet again for this second chance with the man she loved, and who loved her back quite diligently .

Upon their departure, Emily had thrust a thick envelope into her hands, and now Sarah opened it. Inside she found a cover letter that introduced the other pages. She read:

Dear Sarah,

I have decided to set aside, at least for now, my Gothic novel of mystery and horror, better suited to Ann Radcliffe, no doubt.

Instead, I have returned to my former novel about sisters.

I hope you will approve of the opening pages.

If nothing else, perhaps it will give you something to read to pass the time.

With love, Emily

Sarah turned to the next page and began to read.

Sarah Summers carefully lifted the family heirloom, a warm mantle of nostalgia settling over her. The porcelain plate rimmed in gold had been painted with a colorful image of three sisters in Chinese robes, clustered close as a fourth read to them. Papa had given it to their mother long ago.

Sarah ran a gentle finger over the figures, a lump forming in her throat....

As Sarah read on, that same lump formed in her throat once again. She continued reading with a wavering smile and a gratified heart.

Georgie asked, “What is it?”

“The opening pages of Emily’s new novel,” Sarah replied. “About sisters. About us.”

“Us? Good heavens, whoever would want to read that?”