by Amy Field
“I trust you slept well,” Henry said as they waited for their steaming bowls of porridge to cool.
“As well as could be expected,” she diplomatically replied, her night of discomfort mostly forgotten in the presence of her beloved once more. She only hoped the circles beneath her eyes were not too dark.
“We shall travel all day, stop at another inn at nightfall, and reach the Scottish borders before the dinner hour tomorrow,” Henry told her, trying a spoonful of oats.
Jane nodded solemnly. She did not look forward to the long day of travel, but being married on the morrow was more than worth it.
Chapter Ten
“How do you feel, Lady Pendleton?” Henry asked her as they strolled out of the blacksmith’s shop. Their marriage had taken only a matter of minutes and but a small fee.
“I feel quite fine to be married to such a handsome fellow as yourself,” she answered, holding tighter to his arm as they made their way back to the carriage.
“Are you sure you would not like to stay the night here? There seems to be a rather cozy inn just over the bridge,” he pointed out.
Jane shook her head. “No, it is best we begin our travels and return to Eastleigh as soon as possible. We must pick up the pieces strewn about and start our lives together. No need in postponing the inevitable,” she said resolutely.
“What a brave wife I have!” Henry exclaimed jubilantly, his face glowing with pride.
“You are too magnanimous, dear husband,” she replied, relishing the ability to claim him as her own.
Henry helped her into the carriage before climbing in behind her before the coachman shut the door. He scooted close to her and pulled her in for a kiss. Jane closed her eyes as his lips touched hers, love overwhelming all of her senses. Henry broke the kiss rather quickly.
“Jane? Do you believe you will be well enough to . . .” He trailed off.
Her cheeks reddened, but she nodded vigorously. “I shall be fine for many months more.”
“Good. I would never hurry you, dearest, but in the matter of eloping, I believe it of the utmost importance to consummate our marriage as soon as possible,” he explained.
“Yes, you are quite right. It must be done. Tonight,” She replied firmly.
They wiled their first day as husband and wife away within the confines of the Pendleton carriage, stopping for a picnic lunch beneath a lush grove of trees by the roadside, where Henry gathered her a fragrant bouquet of her favorite wildflowers. As night fell and the carriage meandered into the bustling town of Stratford-upon-Avon, the coachman pulled up to large, fancy inn just inside the city limits. The inn resembled a small palace or great estate house.
“Oh, Henry! What a treat it shall be to stay here!” Jane cried, glancing out the carriage’s window at the elegant establishment.
“I instructed our coachman to find the nicest lodgings available for the evening, seeing as it is our wedding night. Only the best shall do,” he smiled at his wife of but a day.
Once they were out of the carriage and escorted inside the elegant inn, Henry secured their room for the night, insisting they be given the nicest one available. With Jane on his arm, they ascended the palatial staircase to the third level of the grand home, and down the hall to an ornately carved wooden door.
Opening the door, Jane let out a small gasp of surprise. The room was exquisite! Elegant velvet furnishings in rich shades of blue and red, fancy draperies with silk tassels, and a marble fireplace with a welcoming fire were all held within the spacious room.
“Henry, I’ve never seen such a beautiful room before!” She said as she waltzed into the room, running a hand along the tufted crimson sofa.
“The rooms at Heatherly shall be most surprising for you then. I cannot wait for you to see them,” he told her. He closed the heavy door behind him and promptly pulled her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly.
“Shall we retire early?” He gazed into her eyes and asked her.
“Yes, let’s please do,” Jane replied breathlessly, pulling his lips to hers.
The next afternoon as their return journey came to an end, Jane took a deep breath while the carriage made its way up the long graveled drive leading to Heatherly’s mains. Henry placed a calming hand on her arm.
“No need to worry, Jane. You are my wife now, good and true,” he assured her.
“Yes, but your mother—“
“My mother will love you, I am sure.”
Jane said nothing else, only sighed. She wasn’t so sure of his words. She had not known anyone as of yet, other than Henry, who believed her worthy of loving.
When the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the grand house’s large double doors, Henry helped Jane down. She was a bit in awe of the enormous stone house that so closely resembled a kingly castle. As they took the steps up to the doors, they almost immediately swunh open. The Pendleton’s butler, Knightley, and their housekeeper, Mrs. Bailey, were the first to greet the newlyweds.
“Welcome home, Master Henry,” Knightley said formally.
“Come along, you two. Master Henry, your mother has instructed me to bring you to her immediately upon your arrival,” Mrs. Bailey fussed, leading the way down the grand corridor. Jane walked beside Henry as they followed the plump housekeeper. As she walked down the palatial hall with marble floors and elaborate artwork, she swallowed. Her nerves truly were getting the best of her now.
They entered a drawing room where Lady Pendleton stood, looking exquisite in a gown of ivory, her hair elegantly coiffed. To Jane, she certainly was a beauty and did not look old enough to have Henry as a son.
“Hello, please be seated,” his mother said as they entered the room.
“Mother, this is my wife, Jane,” Henry announced, before anything else could be said.
His mother smiled sweetly. “Hello, Jane. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, milady,” Jane replied.
“Henry, as you know, I am none too pleased with the circumstances regarding your marriage,” she immediately began once they were all seated. “However, I love you, son, and I like you said before you left, I must trust that I raised you to make the right choices. If you believe Jane is the right choice for you, then I do, too. I know your father will agree with me when he returns on the morrow.”
Jane’s shoulders sank in relief. A burden she had been carrying had now been lifted. “Thank you, dear lady,” Jane said, her voice quivering. “I love your son. Very much.” She could hardly say more, so overwhelmed with emotion.
“Thank you, Mother,” Henry added.
“Now, what say you?” The benevolent Lady Pendleton clapped her hands. “Shall we plan a ball to celebrate your marriage?”
EPILOGUE
Spring of 1827
They walked along the country lane, both holding the hands of a toddling girl, her pink ribbons bobbing happily. Henry held a chubby baby boy on his hip, his gurgling laughter carrying on the breeze.
“Charlotte, dearest, here is where your mummy met her dashing prince,” Jane told the little girl holding her hand.
“And we became a family, the two of us, then you, sweet Charlotte, and a while later, your little brother, Harry,” Henry added as the little girl listened intently. They walked along, taking in the arrival of spring, appreciating the green buds and blooming flowers.
“Daddy picked a pretty bouquet of those flowers for me years ago, and now he brings them to me whenever he rides out and he sees them springing up from the ground,” Jane said, pointing to the budding flowers beginning to fill the meadows.
“Would you like a bouquet, Charlotte?” Henry asked the little girl.
“Yes, Daddy!” The girl exclaimed gleefully.
Henry handed the bouncing boy to Jane and set about gathering a bouquet of flowers for his little princess. Jane looked about her, never imaging those first walks in this country lane, in her black dress with her spirit bleak, that one day she would be the happiest of women. But here she was back in that
very lane, surrounded by her little family. Out of great tragedy and sorrow, a beautiful new beginning had been birthed, and she was very thankful for it, indeed.
Amish Romances
Book I
Love Beckons
Martha stirred in her sleep and knew it was almost time for her to wake up. She could hear the soft snoring of her husband next to her and decided to spend a few more minutes in bed as she waited for her alarm clock. It went off in a few minutes which forced her to get out of bed. She had already planned her chores from the night before and knew what her children were having for breakfast that morning. Being a mother of three was not easy, but she had mastered the art like clockwork.
The morning was chilly as she opened the back door to her kitchen door to light the morning fire. The firewood was slightly damp from the morning dew, but she had placed dry logs aside for the morning meal. Her mind raced back to when she was a kid and how she had seen her mother light firewood very early in the morning. Things were easier now, with the technology rising and the Amish trying to make life easier without the use of electricity. The gadgets used in everyday life were more efficient and had less fuss.
As opposed to the three stoned old fashioned cooking space, they had advanced to better means of preparing food. Which was one of the things Martha was deeply greatly for, she could not compare it with the modern world, but she knew people on the other side had it easy.
Her morning routine was always the same; she had to make coffee for her husband and breakfast for the kids before they went off to school. With the tea cooking and the pancake dough mixed, Martha had to wake her kids up for school.
Robert was the eldest at the age of sixteen who did not need much nudging. He was already up and about getting ready.
“Good morning mother,” he said when Martha went by to knock on his door. They shared a room with his younger brother Jeremiah who was still asleep when she knocked.
“Morning Robert,” she said warmly and let out a smile “Have you said your prayers?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Wake your brother up please," she requested.
“I already did,” Robert answered slightly frustrated “Three times.”
Martha nodded her head in disapproval and walked over to her son’s bed. He was curled up like a ball, was snoring lightly and had his bedcovers over his head.
“Jeremiah,” she called softly, but there was no answer.
“Jeremiah wake up and say your prayers.”
There was no answer just as Martha had suspected. She's used to taking part in this back and forth game every morning with Jeremiah.
“I will get your father,” she said and turned on her heel heading to the door.
“I am up, Mom,” he said from underneath the covers “I am simply saying my prayers silently from here.”
Martha could not help but let out a smile at these words. She was used to all sorts of excuses from Jeremiah, but this one was original.
“I would like you to say your prayers from out here where I can see you.”
“Ok, Mom.”
She watched as he threw back the covers, his eyes obviously drowsy from the sleep and had a scowl on his face.
“That’s a good boy,” she said before walking out of the door. The boys always feared their father because of the corporal discipline he instilled in the household. She walked over to her daughter’s room, unlike Robert and Jeremiah, Leah was inconsistent. There were days she would wake up very early and others when she would be as stubborn as her brother Jeremiah.
She tapped gently on her door and thanked the heavens when she saw her up and about.
“Good morning Mama,” she said with the most angelic smile.
“Morning dear,” she answered, “Have you said your prayers?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good, breakfast should be ready in a few minutes.”
Her next stop was her own room, Mathew was up and looking over the shirt he had decided on wearing that day.
“There are creases on this shirt, Martha,” he pointed out.
“And good morning to you too,” Martha thought and wished she could let the words roll out of her mouth.
“That can’t be I ironed it last night,” Martha protested.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, let me iron it again,” Martha said and moved closer to him. She took the shirt from his rough hands and knew what would come as a result of not obeying him.
She ran the iron over it as fast as she could with her mind being on the tea in the kitchen. Martha could tell the kind of mood her husband was in that day; she thought back to the extensive marital classes that she had received before getting married to Mathew. The woman always had to obey the husband without question even when she didn’t feel like it.
She ran off to the kitchen after placing the shirt neatly on the bed and hoped he will not call her back to send her on a petty errand. She thought that he simply loved seeing her working to get a kick out of it.
She served the tea in the various cups on the table with hot pancakes. Meal time was always family time and the kids knew better than never to show up. Mathew would always assign the kids a memory verse that they needed to cram during the week. Failure to it would bring about harsh repercussions; she poured herself a cup of steaming coffee as she waited for her children to show up at the table.
Chores filled her day, and she hoped Mathew would not make her run other errands. The table was crowded in no time, her kids looked presentable, and she instinctively walked over to where Leah was and tied her hair a second time. She and the children shared merry-making and light jokes, but it all died down when Mathew walked into the dining area.
“Good morning,” Mathew greeted solemnly. His facial expression and words did not coincide in the least; He walked over to his usual chair on the dining table and took a seat on it.
“Good morning Papa,” the kids answered but not in unison.
He poured the tea and waited for everyone else to do the same; he then looked up at his family and held hands with whomever as at his side.
“Let us share the grace,” he announced.
Everyone at the table had their head bent and waited for him to recite the usual morning meal prayer.
“For what we are about to receive Lord, we give thanks,” he prayed shortly “Amen.”
“Amen,” they all answered in unison.
Martha got to her feet subconsciously and helped pour out tea for the kids. Leah was a slow eater, and she did not want to have to take her to school later when she could go with the boys. She helped her cut through her pancakes and cool her tea before resuming her seat and having her coffee.
“Robert,” Mathew called out in the midst of his chewing.
“Yes, Papa."
“What memory verse did I give you to summarize last week?”
Robert sat up in his chair before washing down the pancake in his mouth with some tea hurriedly. Speaking with food in his mouth was a taboo and he knew his father did not like the habit.
“Romans 6:23."
“What does it say?”
“For the wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life,” Mathew answered courageously.
“Jeremiah.”
“Yes, Papa.”
Unlike Robert, Jeremiah had no food in his mouth, he had anticipated he would be the next in the line of questioning and was prepared.
“Recite last week’s memory verse,” he said.
Jeremiah shifted slightly in his seat and tried to look for the right words in his head. They were all a jumble; he cleared his throat and without maintaining eye contact with his father recited his verse.
“Romans 1:12,” he started “Be not conformed to the ways of the world.”
For Jeremiah, the rest of the words for Jeremiah seemed to have been erased from his memory. He could not remember what the memory verse was, but he nevertheless tried to guess.
“But present your
bodies as a living sacrifice unto the Lord.”
“Have you forgotten your memory verse?” Mathew asked in a stern voice which made the whole table go silent. Jeremiah could simply not reply to his father and fixed his eyes on the pancakes right in front of him bereft of any appetite.
“Leah."
“Yes, Papa,” she said and sat up in her seat straighter.
“Recite."
“John 10:10,” she started. “The thief comes to steal, kill and to destroy but I have come so that you may have life and life abundantly.”
Martha was secretly proud of her daughter but feared for Jeremiah, she looked at her husband hoping that he will have mercy on him but knew her gaze would not help matters. They had the rest of the meal in total silence all of them waiting to hear of Jeremiah’s verdict.
“Jeremiah,” Mathew called out once he was finished with his coffee, “I will see you later in the evening.”
Martha watched as her husband got to her feet and took out a wad of notes from his pocket. He placed the money on the table for her and walked out of the door. The next five minutes Martha spent handing the kid’s lunches and making sure they were neat enough. She escorted all of them to the bus stop where the bus appeared in not less than five minutes.
“Bye children,” she called out and gave them a wave “See you later.”
The bus rode off leaving Martha alone, she walked back to the house and with her day’s schedule imprinted in her mind. She cleared the table before walking around the kitchen in search of her market bag. The earlier she got there, the fresher the groceries she was bound to get.