AUGUST 1815
Yesterday had been her wedding day. Jessamine looked over the lawns of Kendicott Park in the misty dawn, still awed by their beauty.
She had awakened early and stared some moments at her beloved’s sleeping face.
Not wishing to waken him and too restless to fall back to sleep herself, she had crept out of bed and quickly dressed, wanting to go outside and spend some time alone with the Lord before the start of the day.
Her heart was full to overflowing, and only by lifting her head heavenward and singing her silent praises to Him could she hope to fathom something of what she was experiencing.
The summer had passed quickly, with letters back and forth between the parsonage and Kendicott Park almost daily. Then she and her parents had traveled there and spent a few weeks with Lancelot and his family.
That first visit had not proved nearly as daunting as Jessamine had feared. Her father had been able to console Sir Geoffrey in his grief over his firstborn son. Her mother’s peaceful presence seemed to be a balm to his wife.
Lancelot’s sister, Delawney, enjoyed showing her father the botanical gardens and her watercolors. That interest created a bond between her and Jessamine too.
Instead of being intimidated by Delawney, Jessamine felt a tug of compassion. She sensed behind her gruff exterior a shy woman who longed for the kind of love she witnessed between Lancelot and Jessamine.
After much discussion and prayer, Lancelot and Jessamine had decided they would not postpone their wedding until his family was out of mourning for Harold but would marry by the end of the summer. Lancelot felt his brother would have wanted it so.
As the day drew closer, so did Jessamine’s impatience. Her love and admiration for her future husband had only deepened with each passing day. She watched his conduct with his parents and sister, with the vast army of servants at Kendicott Park, and with the tenants he’d taken her to visit, and grew more and more proud of this shy, self-effacing man and knew he would be about the Lord’s business wherever they lived and in whatever station he was placed.
His parents had welcomed Jessamine with no hint of disappointment and strove to make her feel welcome. She hoped, prayed, and trusted in God to be able to bring them the joy of grandchildren one day soon.
Lancelot and Jessamine’s wedding had been a small affair with only the closest family and friends.
Rees and Céline had been blessed with a daughter a few weeks ago, so Céline had not been able to attend the wedding. But they hoped to all be together in a few months’ time in Alston Green when her father joined Megan and Captain Forrester in matrimony.
Jessamine smiled now as she saw her new husband approach across the dewy swath of green lawn.
“Good morning, dear wife,” Lancelot said with a smile, his head still sleep-tousled, before leaning down to kiss her.
She wrapped her arms around him, feeling only a trace of shyness. “Good morning, dearest husband of mine. Are you feeling rested for today’s journey?” They were traveling to Scotland later in the morning to spend a month at a hunting lodge in the Highlands.
He gazed at her through half-parted lids. “Well, as to that, I am not so sure. But I will likely nap in the coach.”
She blushed under his gaze. “I am sorry to have disturbed your sleep,” she murmured, looking at his chest.
“I am not,” he replied, nuzzling the side of her neck. She leaned back to allow him more access.
“If you are so hungry, we had best be going to the breakfast room,” she said then giggled as his bristly cheek tickled her skin.
“I am famished and hope you are too.” Again, there was a teasing look in his eye.
She paid him no heed but took his hand in hers and turned toward the house. “We should be on the road soon, since we have a long journey ahead of us.”
He merely nodded, squeezing her hand.
As they reached the door, he held it open for her, staying her a moment with his hand. “Are you happy, my dearest love?”
She gazed into his eyes and smiled. “Most happy and blessed, indeed.”