by Jo Beverley
Lizzie offered a bath and Sarah thanked her earnestly. She'd enjoyed the best the ship had to offer, but fresh water had been limited so the only possibility of a bath had been in seawater. She'd used the tub a few times, but her hair was in a terrible state. She worried it might be beyond restoration.
She'd not brought a maid on her journey. Ellis had refused. In fact she'd seemed relieved to be released from such an unsavory connection. There'd been no point in hiring a new one and she'd been told that it was usually possibly to hire a woman from the poorer passengers. That had proved the case and she'd chosen a fifteen-year-old girl, Maggie Watts, to do the essentials. It had been liberating not to have a skilled attendant who thought she had a right to express opinions.
Sarah settled into the small bath tub, inhaling the herb-scented steam. Such comfort. She scoured her body, then Lizzie's maid, Poppy, soaped and rinsed her hair three times, commenting on the horrors of sea water. The maid massaged beaten eggs into it, then rinsed off the egg, finishing with vinegar water.
"That'll do it, ma'am. You'll see."
Sarah rose and Poppy poured final rinse water over her, and she could step out of the bath feeling clean at last.
"Thank you. I feel wonderful."
"Sit you down, ma'am, and I'll comb you out. My, but it's long, ma'am, but with the egg it's not too knotted." All the same Sarah winced as the comb did its work. "Dreadful business, sea travel, ma'am. I've sworn never to cross the sea."
"Were you born here, then?"
"I was indeed, ma'am. My father came here as a soldier thirty years ago and stayed. There aren't many of us as can claim that." Poppy chattered on as she worked all the tangles out of Sarah's hair, then said, "Now, what will you want to wear, ma'am? Likely it'll need an iron."
"And most of my underwear needs washing," Sarah said. "I've preserved a few items for arrival."
Her robe had been in the top layer of one trunk, so she'd unpacked no further. She put it on and began the process. Most of the linen went onto a washing pile. Gowns were hung on hooks, but yes, whatever she chose to wear would need ironing. She knew it didn't matter. That Just wouldn't care. But she needed to look her best for him tonight.
He'd only seen her in that plain blue gown. She could wear it again, with its spencer, but it wasn't evening wear. She'd brought some of her finest gowns, for she knew there would be grand occasions. It was tempting to dazzle, but they too would be inappropriate for the moment. Clearly the Thurgoods weren't grand or wealthy.
In the end she chose a gown of brown silk that was enlivened by a faint gold stripe. It was elegant but simple and it suited her. Polly went off to smooth out the creases, and Sarah sat before the fire, spreading her hair in the heat to speed its drying as she tried to prepare herself for the evening.
Her choice of gown meant she was still fretting about meeting Halifax as the perfect lady. Cowardly, but she was as she was, and through challenging times she'd come to accept that. Apart from that one night, she'd never indulged in adventures and care-for-naught. She didn't regret the night, but she had no desire to repeat it -- at least, not outside of marriage.
She wanted to be what she'd always been -- a pattern card of propriety. She wanted to be the sort of wife who would enhance Just's position here, both in society and business. If any wondered what lack in her had led to her husband's sin, she'd erase their doubts by her amiability and respectability. She'd give them no reason to think her as wanton as he. None at all.
Polly returned and Sarah moved to the dressing table so her hair could be arranged. Polly plaited it and pinned it in a coil, and then Sarah added a cap. She'd purchased it with this moment in mind. It was suitable for a lady of her years and station, but definitely stylish and pretty. It was made of linen and lace and trimmed with small silk flowers, each with a gold bead in the center. It didn't tie beneath the chin, but was secured with gold-headed hair pins just above her ears.
"That's right pretty, ma'am," Polly approved. "Happen I'll make myself one something like it."
Sarah dressed, then added small golden earrings and a simple amber pendant on a gold chain. By then it was time. She pulled on long white gloves and went downstairs hoping no one could read her mind, or sense the deep tremors of nerves and desire. If anyone sensed anything wrong, perhaps they'd put it down to lack of sea legs.
* * *
He wasn't there.
She'd entered the parlor braced to show nothing and had probably shown disappointment. She quickly masked it with a smile and said something to Lizzie. Lizzie introduced her husband, a solid, amiable man whose brown hair was abandoning his head despite him being little older than Just. She met two other men, one with a wife, giving thanks for years of training in behaving exactly as she ought, even in trying circumstances.
Then Thurgood said, "There you are, Just! We were beginning to give up on you."
Sarah had her back to the door which gave her a blessed moment before she turned, only politely curious, toward the latecomer.
Did only she see glowing perfection? Faery magic, or simply love, she was dazzled. Like all the other men he was dressed in day rather than evening wear, but in pantaloons rather than breeches and boots. His jacket was olive green, his waistcoat a paler green, his neckcloth rather carelessly arranged. Perfection.
She saw the look in his eyes, but she expected him to look away. Instead he came directly to her. Don't! she screamed silently. Don't spoil it now.
"You must be Sarah Jardine," he said, smiling. "I welcome the opportunity to thank you."
"Thank me?" she said, hearing the faintness in it.
"For being willing to assist me with the sundial," he said. "Asking a stranger was an imposition."
"Oh, that!" she gasped, unsteady with relief. "I'd forgotten, my lord. After all, we had nothing to do."
"But were willing. It's in the garden here. There's still a little light. Would you care to see it?"
Oh, you clever man.
"I would," she said. "Perhaps others would, too?"
He grinned. "They've already been forced to admire my heirloom too many times. Come."
"If you'll excuse me," she said to the others and went with him, out into the greenery and dying light.
"I'm not sure I can see much in the gloom," she said.
"And no faery light to guide us," he said softly, but he took her hand and led her to a corner of the small garden where the stone pillar sat. Was it completely her imagination that there was more light there than was explained by the setting sun?
"Are you all right?" he asked softly.
"Now, absolutely. I wish we could kiss."
"We could."
"No."
She saw his smile. "No. I understand, my love, and patience will be rewarded. I am at this moment falling in love. Tomorrow I will begin my wooing. The extravagance of it will be the talk of Halifax, of Nova Scotia, of all Canada."
"Don't!" she protested, laughing.
"You can't stop me. You can refuse me, but you'll have to do it day after day for the rest of time."
She laughed again, more softly, looking down, feeling like a bashful girl. "I wish I could say yes now."
"So tempting, but we will be wise." His hand tightened on hers. "Thank you for coming. For trusting me."
"Thank you for the letters. That was clever."
"I needed to have contact with you more than I needed breath."
"As did I."
"Was it very bad? No, we can't say all we wish to say here. Tomorrow. Mrs. Jardine, please allow me to show you around Halifax tomorrow."
Sarah smiled. "That would be lovely, Lord Maberley."
And so it was, and Lord Maberley's wooing of the newly arrived Mrs. Jardine -- who was said to have traveled to the New World to escape notoriety, but of course was not at all to blame for her situation -- was indeed the talk of Halifax. He attended her, he sent her flowers and verses and gifts. He danced with her at the Governor's ball, securing her hand three times despite th
e many other gentlemen seeking to win the prize.
At last, five weeks after the lady's arrival, when some trees were turning autumn gold, she said yes.
Within days the wedding was celebrated in Saint George's church with the Halifax elite in attendance and enjoying the wedding breakfast afterward. The military band played for the occasion, and then as Lord and Lady Maberley left to honeymoon in a house beyond the Citadel, overlooking an inlet called the Hawkes River.
They stood in one another's arms, looking out over the water. "There is so much woodland and nature here," Sarah said, "it seems Faery would delight in it."
"Perhaps they are already here."
"Or the sundial might invite them."
"We could build a house here," he said, "with a garden designed for it, but do we want to invite Titania and Oberon into the New World?"
"Do we get to choose?"
He laughed. "Almost certainly not, and they do bless those who serve them."
She turned to kiss him. "Then I hope we serve them well, my lord, at least in the matter of our faery-blessed union."
"Indeed. Shall we explore that novelty -- a conventional, linen-draped bed?"
Smiling in one another's arms, they went inside to do just that. And Titania, for whom earthly distance means nothing, cast her blessing again, for there might be need of faery servants in this intriguing new world.
The End
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Now read on for more about Faery and about my other work.
More about faeries/fairies.
I already mentioned A Midsummer Night Dream. In Hamlet Shakespeare wrote, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." The Tempest mixes the real and the unreal, and there are powerful witches in Macbeth. He knew there was much beyond the rational mind.
Faery goes back further than Shakespeare. It's easy to speculate that classical nymphs and satyrs were glimpses into that other world, along with centaurs, Pegasus, and the unicorn. In Arthurian legends, we have Morgan le Fay and Merlin, and also a magical sword, blessings and curses. The Irish Tuatha De Danann have much in common with the powerful Fae.
If we look at history we see how it could be that "others" retreated as human population increased. Christianity tried to suppress pagan beliefs, logic and learning opposed mysteries, and then industry ate up much of the natural world so that some countries have few places left where any others can live undisturbed. But those places they protect, with the help of certain humans.
That's how I choose to see it, anyway.
I've taken the threads and sparkles of myths and legend and created a Faery world that intersects with the human one in England. As you've seen, this realm of Faery needs some humans for certain purposes and to protect their special places, and is willing to reward those who do their will.
Apart from the ending of Titania's Gift I don't speculate about other nations, though in an Irish-set Regency Historical called Dangerous Joy I do bring in magical cats. In another, called Forbidden Magic, an ancient and very frankly female stone figure called a Sheelagh-na-gig has magical powers. As stone carvings, sheelaghs are real and some still exist, generally in church walls. No one is quite sure what they were. Some speculate that they celebrate the power of womanhood; others that they were a warning of the dark power women could exert over men. Whichever, I like the fact that "power" is in both!
If you've enjoyed these stories, please explore my other fiction. Everything is available in print and as an e-book.
Traditional Regency Romances
These are my earliest works and are shorter, lighter works set in the Regency, 1811-1820.
http://www.jobev.com/tradreg.html
Lord Wraybourne's Betrothed
The Stanforth Secrets
The Stolen Bride
Emily and the Dark Angle (RITA winner)
*The Fortune Hunter
*Deirdre and Don Juan (RITA winner)
*These two novels are also published together as LOVERS AND LADIES.
Medieval
Set from 1066 to 1102
http://www.jobev.com/medrom.html
Lord of My Heart
Dark Champion
The Shattered Rose
Lord of Midnight.
Georgian
Set in the 1760s and about the aristocratic Malloren family, headed by the Marquess of Rothgar.
http://www.jobev.com/malloren.html
My Lady Notorious (RITA winner)
Tempting Fortune
Something Wicked
Secrets of the Night
Devilish (RITA winner)
Winter Fire
A Most Unsuitable Man
A Lady's Secret
The Secret Wedding
The Secret Duke
An Unlikely Countess
A Scandalous Countess
Seduction in Silk
Regency Historicals
Set in the British Regency, 1811-1820, and based on a group of school friends who called themselves The Company of Rogues and who are now men of varied natures, status and abilities. The Rogues are now the longest-running series of Regency heroes.
http://www.jobev.com/rogues.html
An Arranged Marriage
An Unwilling Bride (RITA winner)
Christmas Angel
Forbidden
Dangerous Joy
*The Demon's Mistress (a novella)
*The Dragon's Bride,
*The Devil's Heiress
Hazard
St. Raven
Skylark
The Rogue's Return
To Rescue a Rogue
Lady Beware
A Shocking Delight
Too Dangerous for a Lady
The Viscount Needs a Wife (April 2016)
*These three are available in an omnibus edition, Three Heroes, at a very good price.
A taste of The Viscount Needs a Wife.
(At seventeen, Kitty Cateril married a badly wounded war hero. When he died she was left with very little money and had to accept an invitation to live with her husband's family at Cateril Manor. She leads a comfortable life there, but nearly two years after her husband's death she's expected to still wear mourning. Her recent change from black to the muted shades of half-mourning has upset Marcus's mother. Now a national disaster will make things worse.)
Cateril Manor, November 1817
The door burst open and Lord Cateril entered, eyes wild. "The most dreadful news!"
Lady Cateril started upright, a hand to her chest. "John?" she gasped, meaning her surviving son. "The children!"
"The princess. Princess Charlotte is dead!"
There was a moment of stillness as Kitty and Lady Cateril tried to accept the impossible. Princess Charlotte, heir to the throne, who'd been due to deliver her first child, the hope of the future, was dead?
"No!"
For once, Kitty and her mother-in-law were completely in harmony.
"The child?" Lady Cateril asked desperately.
"A son. Also dead." Lord Cateril sank into a chair by his wife's side and took her hand. "All hope is gone."
It was overly portentous, but Kitty knew what he meant. The king and queen had presented the nation with seventeen children, but now, nearly sixty years after George the third had come to the throne there had been only one legitimate grandchild, the Regent's daughter, Charlotte.
With her dead, what would become of the nation? The king was old and mad and expected to die at any moment. The Regent was nearing sixty, grossly fat, and led a dissipated life. No one would be surprised if he died soon as well. His sisters were all middle aged, and those who had married hadn't produced offspring. Few of his brothers had married, and none of those had produced a child. With the perversity of fate, some of the rest had bastards, which were of no use at all.
All that was in the head. Kitty's heart ached for the people inv
olved. "Poor woman," she said. "And her poor family. Royal, but not beyond the hand of fate."
"Amen," Lord Cateril said. "The shops and theaters have closed in respect. The court has gone into mourning, of course, but I'm told everyone of all degrees is putting on black, or at least dark bands."
"We must do the same," Lady Cateril said. "The family must wear full black." In spite of her genuine shock and sorrow she shot Kitty a triumphant look.
Kitty almost protested, but Lord Cateril agreed. "You're right, my dear. And black bands and stockings for the servants. Now, please gather the household together in the hall. I must read out the news."
Kitty helped to pass the word and soon the family and servants stood together in the oak-paneled hall as Lord Cateril read out the letter he'd received. All were affected and many wept.
Afterward Kitty went to her room to take out one of her black bombazine gowns. If only she'd given them away, but it was provident to keep mourning by. No one knew when death would strike, as had just been proved. As a red-eyed house maid fastened the back, Kitty resolved two things.
She'd return to half-mourning after the funeral and she would not live this half-life any longer.
Somehow she'd find a way to escape. Here was evidence that life was fleeting and precarious. She wouldn't waste what time she had left in the everlasting shadows of Lady Cateril's grief.
* * *
The princess's coffin, along with that of her stillborn child, was lowered into the royal vault at Windsor on November the 15th. Lord Cateril read a letter giving an account of it to the assembled household and they all prayed again for the princess and the bereaved family. He then declared that the servants could put off mourning.
Kitty went upstairs very tempted to take this opportunity to put on a brightly-colored gown, but she truly was sorrowful over Princess Charlotte's fate so half-mourning felt correct. She chose a gray gown and wore silver ornaments instead of jet. When she entered the drawing room Lady Cateril's look was flat, which seemed even worse than anger. Strenuous thinking over the past week had brought Kitty no closer to escape.