by Betty Neels
They had left then, and driven up to Somerset to the small village where Litrik had his house. A nice, solid old house, not too large, with a lovely garden and open country at its back. He had a housekeeper there, a widow lady who lived in the village. She had opened the door to them with a warm smile, and a moment later a door had opened and Suzanne had rushed to meet them.
‘I’m here until the wedding. It’s Litrik’s idea; I hope you’re glad. We’re going shopping…’
Litrik had left them then, and driven back to London. That evening he’d made a number of phone calls. After all, what were old friends for? Everything had gone according to plan. The rector had been helpful, the business of getting the licence was well in hand.
Litrik slept the sleep of a contented man, emptied his head of everything but his work each day, and only each evening did he phone Sarah.
Sarah got up early on her wedding day, and went to look out of the window. It was going to be good weather: blue sky and warm sunshine. And Litrik would be coming. The week had been restful and pleasant, for Suzanne was a good companion. They had shopped, and Suzanne had insisted on buying a white dress and a little veil. It was a very simple dress, but it suited her, and presently she went to her room to put it on. She was still in her dressing gown when Litrik knocked and came in.
He caught her close and kissed her. ‘Mrs Twist is shocked. I’m not supposed to see you until we meet at church.’ He took two cases from a pocket. ‘There has been no time. We’ll have to be engaged for an hour or so.’ He slipped a sapphire and diamond ring on her finger and then opened the other case, saying, ‘Pearls for my bride.’
He saw the tears in her eyes. ‘My darling, don’t cry.’
‘I’m not. I’m just so happy.’ She smiled then. ‘Litrik, I don’t know anything—will someone give me away? And where are we going afterwards, or may we stay here? And will the church be empty?’
He stooped to kiss her once more. ‘Dr Benson is giving you away.’
He had gone again before she could ask any more questions. ‘It’s all topsy-turvy,’ she told her reflection in the mirror as she arranged her veil just so. ‘The bride’s mother usually does everything and the bridegroom just turns up.’
Presently she found herself in the church porch, a bouquet of white roses in her hand and Dr Benson beside her. When they entered the church it wasn’t empty at all. There was her mother, in a magnificent hat, there was Mrs Twist and Litrik’s housekeeper, and there was Suzanne and the nice Professor Smythe. There were others too, friends of Litrik, she supposed, and people from the village.
She was suddenly so happy that she wanted to sing and dance, only of course she couldn’t, not in this beautiful little church, with the organ playing softly and the rector waiting to marry them. And Litrik, dear Litrik, turning to look at her as she reached his side, a look so full of love that she caught her breath.
The rector began, ‘Dearly beloved…’ And Sarah thought, Oh, how exactly right, and slipped her hand into Litrik’s. She felt his firm clasp, knowing that his hand would always be there when she needed it. She looked at the rector then, and he saw that she, whom he had thought of as a rather plain girl, was beautiful.
ISBN: 978-1-408-98327-0
MAKING SURE OF SARAH
© 1999 Betty Neels
Published in Great Britain 2015
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited
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