Here's an excerpt from my latest, published in February this year:
Walking with my
cousin Robert Fenwick was always a pleasure whatever the weather, but
especially so in today’s early summer sunshine. Blue sky arched over our heads
and the hills that formed the border with Scotland rolled green to the distant
horizon. At this time of year England’s most northerly county was always
beautiful.
“I am serious,
Leigh. It is time she stopped bullying you.”
“She doesn’t
really bully me.”
His answer was
merely to raise his eyebrows almost to his hairline, so in hope of distraction,
I said, “Amelia will be entirely focussed on her latest beau for the next few
days. She won’t take much notice of me.”
My elder sister
had somehow contrived an introduction to Lord Felsham, one of the few notables
in Northumberland, and had spoken of little else but his perfect manners, good
looks and vast estates for the last three weeks.
Robert glanced in
every direction and then leaned closer to me. “That is part of the problem. Haven’t
you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Can you keep a
secret?”
When I nodded
impatiently, he said, “Her beau won’t be at Matfen for the wedding. Felsham has
contracted measles and will be persona
non grata for some time.”
I stopped in the
middle of the gravel path. “Oh, no!”
Our families
were due to travel south to Matfen Grange in a day or two in order to celebrate
my cousin Lucy Fenwick’s wedding. Such gatherings brought the rather large
Fenwick clan together in one building, and offered a chance to meet old friends
and perhaps make new acquaintances. I had been particularly looking forward to
this wedding because I was to be bridesmaid to my cousin Lucy. Almost two years
my junior, she was to marry Adam Ridley, aged twenty-five. Seven years was not
generally thought too great an age difference, though I did have my doubts, for
Lucy was a very young seventeen. Though I hoped Adam was not a frivolous young
man about town, I equally hoped for Lucy’s sake he was not averse to gossip and
fun.
“The young
couple will have to marry without Lord Felsham’s presence,” Robert said with a
chuckle.
But I was not
thinking about the bridal couple. “Amelia will be distraught,” I said softly. “She
has spent days deciding which gowns to take to Matfen. This is poor news
indeed.”
“Why so?” Robert
asked. “Lord Felsham’s absence should not spoil your enjoyment.”
I had few
illusions about my elder sister. Once decided that Lord Felsham was excellent
husband material, she had every intention of entrapping him by fair means or
foul. News of his indisposition was likely to throw her into a fit of the
dismals for days. I looked down at a clump of lavender growing in the border
that ran along the side of the house. Several bees collected pollen and their
contented hum was as pleasant to the ear as the scent of lavender to the nose. He
was right, of course. My sister’s bad humour would not stop my enjoyment in
wearing my new gown and being part of the wedding celebrations. A shell pink
delight, my dress was already rolled in soft cloth to prevent creasing during
the journey.
“The bride won’t
care a jot if Felsham is missing or Amelia is in the droops,” Robert said
cheerfully. “She probably won’t even notice his absence. The groom has never
met either of them, so he won’t be affected.”
“That is true,
but you know how Amelia will be if Felsham is not there.”
“She will be in a
fit of the dismals, and when that happens, everyone will suffer?”
I could not
contradict him. Yet his comment, and the glance that accompanied it, lifted my
spirits. “That is true.”
“You give her too
much credit, Leigh.”
“You are right. We
should not allow measles to spoil anyone’s wedding.”
At that moment,
a loud hail drew our attention to the corner of the house where the old pine
tree stood sentinel. Cousin Robert groaned.
“Shush. She will
hear you.”
“I don’t give a
damn if she does.”
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