The Bride of Ivy Green

by Julie Klassen

  “True.”

  “Speaking of great distances,” Gabriel said, “I’m afraid we won’t be able to take a wedding trip. Being laid up as I was, and now amid training the new horses . . .” He regretfully shook his head. “If I leave them for long, all of that work will go to waste. It will be like starting over when we return.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry, Jane. I hope you are not terribly disappointed.”

  “I’m not. As long as I am with you, I will be happy.”

  “I would like to take you to my parents’ house and out to my uncle’s farm at some point. Perhaps by Christmas, we can get away.”

  Walter Talbot cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “My dear Mr. Locke, you have many horses but only one wife. From one farmer to another, may I say that you won’t regret taking a wedding trip of at least a few days. Any inconvenience of leaving will soon be forgotten. I still cherish the memory of my time away with Thora. Having her to myself away from daily chores—it was well worth it, I assure you. My men and I will help tend your animals while you’re gone. I don’t know much about training horses, but I can keep them fed and cared for, for a few days.”

  Thora added, “And I would stop by The Bell daily, Jane, and make sure things there go smoothly while you’re away.”

  Gabriel considered, then said, “Very well, you two. You’ve convinced me. I will accept on the condition that you allow me to return the favor sometime.” He parroted Talbot’s words back to him. “I don’t know much about cattle or sheep, but I can keep them fed and cared for, for a few days.”

  Talbot grinned. “I shall bear that in mind, Gabriel. Perhaps on a special anniversary.” He reached over and took Thora’s hand.

  Jane’s heart squeezed to see the affectionate bond between husband and wife. She thanked God again that she and Gabriel would very soon be husband and wife as well.

  chapter

  Thirty-Six

  Gabriel stood at the altar, handsome in a dark frock coat, walking stick in hand, just in case. Jane stood beside him, holding a bouquet of peonies, sweet peas, and ivy from her own garden. She wore her new dress from London with a veiled bonnet, and Cadi had taken extra pains with her hair.

  The church pews were filled with people they knew and loved—their family and friends, along with The Bell staff and many neighbors. In fashionable cities, people generally viewed wedding services as gloomy affairs best inflicted on only closest friends and family, but in Ivy Hill weddings were important social events, widely attended and celebrated with joy.

  Mr. Paley stood, facing the expanded congregation, and began the marriage ceremony.

  “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 . . .”

  While the vicar spoke, a flash of memory played through Jane’s mind. Of standing beside John, hearing the same words. It seemed a lifetime ago. She thought of Thora, wondering if she was remembering that day as well.

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

  Jane’s heart beat hard. She felt several pairs of eyes on her profile at the words. Did those who knew of her childbearing woes look at her in pity? Were she and Gabriel wrong to marry when they knew it was highly unlikely they would ever have a chance to bring up any children? Lord, your will be done.

  “Gabriel Matthias Locke, 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?”

  Gabriel looked at Jane solemnly. “I will.”

  The clergyman then asked her a variation of the same questions. The words in sickness and in health resonated with deep meaning, and she silently thanked God yet again for Gabriel’s recovery.

  Jane turned to Gabriel and held his dark gaze. “I will.”

  Later, their vows declared, they both knelt, and Mr. Paley prayed over them. He joined their hands together and said, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”

  He then pronounced them man and wife. Finally, the vicar blessed them, read from the Psalms, and closed with an additional blessing for procreation. Jane’s ears burned. Beside her, Gabriel squeezed her hand.

  Afterward, marriage license signed, Jane and Gabriel exited the church, arm in arm. Gabriel still carried his walking stick, but he barely leaned on it. In fact, there was a decided spring in his step. Jane smiled up at him, and he returned it, warm affection shining in his eyes.

  Friends and family bordered the churchyard path, applauding as they passed, wishing them well, and tossing seeds of grain over them in the old tradition.

  Reaching the gate, Talbot helped first Jane, then Gabriel into the borrowed barouche-landau decorated with white ribbon and flowers. Then he and Thora climbed onto the front bench and drove them to The Bell for the wedding breakfast. Their guests followed behind them on foot, umbrellas shooting up as a grey drizzle began to fall.

  Beside her in the carriage, Gabriel lifted Jane’s gloved hand to his lips and kissed it. His deep brown eyes glittered with promises of more kisses to come.

  With the weather as it was, Jane’s decision to hold the wedding breakfast inside The Bell had been a wise one. Mrs. Rooke and her staff, along with Thora, had put together quite a feast: ham and veal pies, roasted chickens, salads, rhubarb tarts, rolls and butter, and a rich bride cake from Craddock’s.

  To seat everyone, they had placed the buffet tables in the hall, and added extra tables and chairs to the coffee room and the recently expanded dining parlour. Except for immediate family, seating was first come, first served. Jane had decided not to assign tables in the formal dining parlour for affluent guests, nor consign her more humble friends to the coffee room. As a result, each room held an interesting mix of people. Lady Brockwell and Justina found themselves at a table with Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. and Mrs. Barton, and learned a great deal about the management of cows. Sir Timothy and Rachel sat beside Mrs. Klein and Miss Morris, and before the meal had concluded, Kristine found herself with another pianoforte to tune and Becky with a commission for a new welcome sign for Ivy Hill. James Drake, meanwhile, found himself receiving romance advice from Mrs. Snyder, Mrs. Burlingame, and the Cook sisters.

  Jane and Gabriel made the rounds, visiting guests in both rooms, and accepting congratulations from all quarters.

  After the meal, the staff removed the tables from one end of the room, setting those chairs in a half circle instead. Then, The Bell’s three musicians began to warm up their instruments: Tuffy on his old mandolin, Tall Ted on fiddle, and Colin on pipe.

  Jane and Gabriel walked to the center of the gathering and, when conversations quieted, Jane began, “Thank you all for being here to help us celebrate our very special day.” She looked up at Gabriel beside her.

  He said, “Most of you know about my recent accident—the uncertainty over whether I would walk again. My darling Jane assured me she would love and marry me anyway. Today I stand here on my own two feet and thank God for my recovery, and for the woman who stood by me regardless of the outcome. We also want to thank so many of you who helped us during that trying time with your friendship and offers of help, food, and prayer. We appreciate each and every one of you more than you know.” He smiled at Jane and squeezed her hand.

  “Now it’s time for music and dancing,” Jane said. “My groom is not quite ready to dance a jig, but I expect the rest of you are. Who will be the first couple?”

  “I will!” Cadi blurted, and only then swiveled around to look for a partner. She grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled him up from his chair.

  Patrick and Hetty joined them, as did Sir Timothy and Rachel, Mr. and Mrs. Paley, and Gabriel’s parents.

  Jane asked her father t
o dance, but he patted her hand and sat down beside Miss Matty. “Sorry, my dear. I am afraid I am not ready to dance a jig either. I think I will sit here instead.”

  “You can sit here if you like,” Matilda teased, rising, “but I intend to dance.” Seeing her standing there, Alfred Coine quickly rose to offer his services as her partner.

  Winston Fairmont humphed and crossed his arms.

  Jane bit back a grin.

  Soon, more tables were cleared away and other people joined the dance. At one point, Hetty took Colin’s place on the pipe so he could dance with Anna Kingsley, pretty in Rachel’s old pink dress. In the corner, Jack Avi held little Betsey’s hands and the two danced a jig of their own. Jane looked from face to face, and sweet satisfaction expanded her heart.

  She was content to leave the dancing to others as long as there were plenty of couples. She returned to sit by Gabriel’s side.

  “Happy?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

  “Very. You?”

  “Yes. Though I shall be happier still when it is just the two of us at home.”

  Jane’s cheeks warmed at the thought. A remnant of worry arose, but she asked God to help her banish it. Then she sent her husband a shy smile. “I like the sound of that.”

  Mercy watched with pleasure as Aunt Matty danced with the lawyer—her countenance radiant and his boyish as they clapped and skipped through the steps. Mr. Coine’s face eventually reddened as the music continued, but rather than stopping, he just pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his brow. Mercy was glad her aunt could enjoy this rare opportunity to dance. She doubted anyone would ask her, especially as the only Kingsley in attendance was Anna. She was disappointed to not see Joseph. She had hoped he would come, but apparently not.

  Mr. Drake danced with Alice, using all the skills they had learned from the visiting dancing master. When the two reached the bottom of the line and stood out one round, as the pattern dictated, James stepped nearer Mercy’s chair.

  “May I have the next dance, Mercy?”

  Surprise flashed through her. “Oh, I . . . yes, thank you.”

  Alice grinned from one to the other.

  As they rejoined the dance, movement in the hall caught Mercy’s eye. With a surge of excitement, she saw Joseph Kingsley enter, handsome in his Sunday best. He removed his hat and brushed the hair back from his brow. Her mouth suddenly dry, Mercy reached for a sip of punch. She watched as he approached the bride and groom, shook Mr. Locke’s hand, and congratulated them both. He next crossed the room to greet his niece Anna and then turned to go.

  Mercy was on her feet before she’d consciously decided to move. “Mr. Kingsley . . . I did not think you were coming.”

  “Miss Grove.” His gaze swept over her. “You look lovely, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  Pleasure warmed her. She was glad now she had donned the Pomona-green dress her mother had given her. “Thank you. Are you leaving already? You just got here.”

  Nearby, the musicians played a final chord, and Mr. Drake escorted Alice back to her chair.

  Mr. Kingsley shrugged. “I am not that well acquainted with either the bride or groom. I only stopped by to wish them well. And to see you. . . .”

  Mr. Drake approached them. “There you are, Mercy. I’ve come to claim my dance. Oh, hello, Kingsley. Didn’t know you were here.”

  Mr. Kingsley held her gaze a moment longer, then turned to the man. “Just stopped by to wish the new couple happy. And now I shall wish you both a good day as well.” He nodded, turned, and strode away.

  The musicians began another tune and couples began forming two lines.

  “Mercy?” James extended his hand to her. “The next set is starting.”

  With a weak smile, she tentatively put her hand in his. As James led her to the bottom of the dance, she could not resist a final look over her shoulder. But Mr. Kingsley had already disappeared from view.

  Later that day, Sir Timothy and Rachel delivered the new-married couple home in the Brockwell barouche, the floor and boot filled with gifts, a basket of leftover food, and a portion of the bride’s cake to enjoy the following day.

  Reaching the farm, Sir Timothy and Rachel helped them carry everything inside. Rachel embraced Jane, and then she and Timothy departed. With a self-conscious smile, Timothy shut the door behind himself. Gabriel walked over and locked it.

  Jane said, “I thought you never locked your door.”

  “Tonight is not just any night. I don’t want to risk any joker or well-meaning servant interrupting us.”

  “Susie?”

  “Given this afternoon and tomorrow off.”

  “I see. Someone thought ahead.”

  “I admit I have thought of little else these last few days. And nights.”

  Jane bit her lip, then confessed, “I am nervous.”

  “So am I.” He held out his hand to her. “Come, Jane. Let’s get it over with.”

  “Get it over with!” Jane protested on an incredulous little laugh.

  “I mean the first time—the first anxious, awkward time. Then we can relax and enjoy ourselves.”

  Butterflies tickled her stomach. “Oh dear.”

  He grinned ruefully. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you nervous before.”

  “It’s my first time for that too.”

  Again he held out his palm to her, and she put her whole heart and self into his hands.

  chapter

  Thirty-Seven

  Mercy had been sorry to see Mr. Kingsley so briefly at the wedding breakfast. Why had he rushed off? She knew now he had no romantic aspirations where Esther was concerned, but still he did not pursue her. Was it only because he had no house to offer her, or was there some other reason?

  At least she had been able to talk with Aunt Matty at the wedding. Mercy had missed her while they’d been in Portsmouth.

  After finishing their lessons the next day, Alice went down to join Mr. Drake for their evening time together. Mercy stopped in her own room to wash the chalk dust from her hands and tidy her hair. Then she went downstairs as well, hoping for a few private moments with Mr. Kingsley.

  She didn’t see him anywhere. In fact, when Mercy looked around she was surprised to find only James Drake sitting there.

  “Where is Alice?” she asked. “I released her half an hour ago.”

  “Apparently she forgot our chess game. Again. It seems she prefers Johnny’s company to mine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. “Good training for her adolescent years, I imagine.”

  She chuckled. “Probably true.” Through the window, Mercy glimpsed a flash of pink skirt and went to look outside.

  “There she is, by the sweet chestnut tree.”

  He crossed the room to join her at the window. “I hope she’s not planning to climb it. I told her not to.”

  As they watched, Alice looped her hands around the lowest branch of the gnarled old tree and swung herself up. From there, the branches formed a relatively easy ladder to climb higher.

  James unlatched the window and pushed it open. “Alice, I asked you not to climb that tree.”

  Alice continued climbing.

  James frowned in frustration. “Can she not hear me or is she ignoring me?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He turned on his heel and strode from the room. Mercy followed.

  Once outside, he hurried across the lawn. “Alice! Come down.”

  Alice called back, “But one of the cats climbed up here and can’t get down.”

  “He can get down far easier than you can. That’s too high.”

  “Just a little farther.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Why won’t she heed me?”

  Mercy made no reply, her pulse rate rising the higher the girl climbed.

  Sitting on one branch, Alice reached tow
ard the adolescent cat above her and teetered on her perch.

  Mercy added her voice to James’s. “Alice, be careful!”

  “He’s scared,” the girl called down.

  “So am I,” James replied. “Alice, stay where you are. I will come up and get you.”

  Alice’s foot slipped, and a second later, she was flailing, then falling. Mercy cried out, heart slamming against her breastbone, and James lurched forward, arms outstretched. In a blur of pink and green, the two collided and fell to the ground, rolling to a stop in a heap of arms, legs, and skirt.

  Mercy hurried toward them. “Are you all right?”

  Alice rolled off of James, and Mercy noticed blood on his temple.

  “James, you’re bleeding.”

  He reached a hand to his forehead, and it came away bloody. “I think I caught her half boot with my head,” he said dryly.

  Alice’s eyes widened at the sight of the blood. “I am sorry, Papa.”

  The cat scrambled down of its own accord, unscathed.

  While James dug for a handkerchief to sop the blood, Mercy quickly examined Alice for injuries. “Does anything hurt?”

  The girl shook her head, tears glimmering in her eyes. Mercy guessed her conscience smarted, if nothing else.

  That evening—Alice hugged, gently reprimanded, and sent to bed early—James and Mercy sat in his office, him sipping a rare glass of brandy.

  “When Alice fell, my heart stopped,” he began. “Why would she not obey me? Are my requests so unreasonable? I only asked her not to climb that tree for her own safety. I suppose I should punish her more sternly, but I think hurting me was consequence enough—don’t you agree?”

  Mercy nodded, eying his bruised and bandaged temple. “She feels terribly guilty.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want her to feel guilty. I want her to listen, to obey a few simple rules for her own good and my sanity. If she doesn’t want to spend time with me, that’s one thing, but endangering herself is quite another.”

  Mercy said, “That reminds me of something Mr. Paley said once—that there is nothing like becoming a parent to make one realize what God goes through with His children. He longs to spend time with us, mourns when we go astray, has great plans for our future, and would sacrifice anything to rescue us.”