Carving for Miss Coventry by Deborah M. Hathaway

Epilogue

Marianne tucked her arm through Edward’s and followed him toward their awaiting carriage, their smiles unceasing.

The wedding that morning had been perfection, and the gathering afterward at Daffley Park had been even better. The guests—upper and working classes alike—had mingled as they’d sampled various pastries, a wedding cake, and, of course, cherry tarts.

“Why not have the typical breakfast affair?” Father had protested when plans were being made.

Beatrice had piped up in an instant. “Because Marianne and Mr. Steele love pastries, Father.” She gave him a pointed look. “Worry not, when Mr. Wakefield and I wed, we shall have the dreary meal you prefer.”

That had seemed enough to satisfy Father, and Marianne had sent her sister a grateful smile.

Over the last few weeks, Marianne’s life had changed dramatically. Her relationship with Beatrice had returned to what it had been before, Mother was in her element planning two weddings, and Father, well, he was as happy as the circumstances allowed.

Their footsteps crunched against the gravel drive as she and Edward turned, facing their families who had trailed after them.

Beatrice and Mr. Wakefield stepped forward first.

“I wish you both a very pleasant trip,” Mr. Wakefield said with his usual kind smile, which Marianne had grown used to seeing. He’d proposed to Beatrice only a week after Edward and Marianne had become engaged. “Though do not delay your return. I’m certain your sister will be eager to see you again.”

“Indeed, I will.” Beatrice removed her arm from her betrothed’s and reached to hold Marianne’s hands in her own. “Enjoy the sea air for me, sister.”

“I will.”

Marianne and Edward would travel to Cornwall to spend a week there in just each other’s company. She was more than looking forward to their time away—no carving, no responsibilities, no Father ensuring they’d never spend a second alone together.

Mr. Wakefield and Edward engaged in conversation about where their first stop in Cornwall would be—Tregalwen Beach, then off to St. Just. Beatrice’s tightening fingers drew Marianne’s attention toward her.

“You will be back for the wedding,” Beatrice stated in a whisper, though uncertainty flickered in her light blue eyes.

“Of course,” Marianne assured her. “You know we will return from Cornwall here, rather than Bath. I would not miss your wedding for anything.”

Beatrice smiled, blowing out a soft sigh of relief. The Steeles would have made straight for Bath and Edward’s wood shop, but Edward still had a month and a half of carving before he completed the library. Though looking forward to beginning their new life, Marianne was pleased she could remain at Daffley Park a little while longer—if only to spend further time drawing closer to her family.

Chuckling from Edward and Mr. Wakefield drew their attention toward the men, then Beatrice and Marianne shared a smile.

“I hope you will be happy with him,” Beatrice whispered, “even though he is a working man.”

She winked, and Marianne shook her head in amusement. “I hope you will be happy with him,” she returned in a low voice, tipping her head toward Mr. Wakefield, “even though he is the cousin of a lord.”

They shared a smile, then Beatrice sobered. “Do not worry about me, Marianne. He is a good man. I will be happy with him. I’m certain of it.”

Marianne could only pray that was true.

The sisters shared a departing embrace, then Beatrice moved toward Mr. Wakefield, bidding her farewell to Edward next.

Marianne made to stand beside her husband, the distance between them—merely a few feet—too far for her comfort, though they would be confined in their borrowed carriage from Father over the next few days. But when Edward’s mother came up to speak with her next, she remained where she stood, her smile brightening.

“What a lovely day it has been,” Mrs. Steele said, “and what a beautiful bride you make.”

Mrs. Steele had only arrived in Ashwick a few days before the wedding, but in what little time Marianne had spent with her, she knew she was going to bond with the woman splendidly. Mrs. Steele’s confidence, kindness, and strength exuded from her character like the sunshine had broken through the clouds that morning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Steele. I am so pleased you could come. I very much look forward to getting to know you better.”

“After everything my son has shared with me about you, I already know we shall be the best of friends.” She leaned closer. “You see, I, too, have a penchant for pastries.”

She winked, and Marianne’s heart warmed. Yes, the two Steele women were going to get on splendidly.

Mrs. Steele moved away then, Mother and Father stepping up next. “Take care, Marianne,” Father said with a rigid nod, his eyes moving about as if afraid to meet her gaze. “Of the carriage, the team, and yourself.”

“I will, Father.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Matters had been strained between them since before the proposal had taken place, but Marianne had expected as much. That was another reason she was grateful she and Edward would remain at Daffley for a while longer, if only to force Father to see that she was still his daughter, and that Edward was a respectable man.

“Mr. Steele will ensure everything is taken care of as well,” she said, almost pointedly.

Father nodded, though he looked pained to agree with her on such a matter. Then he reached for her hand and placed a kiss to the back of it. “I…I love you, my dear. And I wish you every happiness.”

He dropped her hand as if it was scalding, then he moved to address Edward.

She stared after him. Would he ever forgive her for betraying his trust? For marrying a woodcarver?

“His pride will be alleviated at some point,” Mother said with a shake of her head, as if she heard Marianne’s plight. “Until then, you and I shall veritably beat him over the head with your new husband’s various accomplishments and good qualities.”

“I do love that plan.”

They shared a small laugh, and Mother embraced her. “I’m so pleased you will be with us when you return and that you shall not be living so very far away. I’ve already spoken with Father about spending a few months in Bath next year. Queen’s Square is not too far away from Mr. Steele’s shop, I understand. We shall have a grand time exploring more of Bath together. Perhaps we may convince the Wakefields to join us, too.”

The very notion sounded too good to be true. But then, her life seemed too good to be true. Thankfully, it was. “That would be delightful, Mother.”

The rigid stances of Edward and Father caught her eyes again, the two men speaking with stinted words and impassive expressions—characteristic of each of their conversations over the last few weeks.

“Well,” Mother whispered, “at least the two of them could rival one another’s pride.”

“Indeed, at least they are both on their best behavior, though.”

“Mm.” Mother shook her head. “They are ridiculous, are they not? And yet, are we not the more ridiculous ones to have fallen for them?” She glanced sidelong at Marianne, a twinkle in her eyes. “I suppose for the Coventry women, there is something irresistible about a working-class man, is there not?”

Marianne smiled. She could not have agreed more.

* * *

“I will ensure she returns in one piece, sir, yes.”

Edward stood across from Mr. Coventry, each of them holding their hands behind their backs—no doubt each of them wishing for their painful conversation to finally come to a close.

And yet, they both knew they had to make some effort with one another—if only for Marianne’s sake.

“Very good.” Mr. Coventry took a step back. “Then I wish you a safe journey. Goodbye, Mr. Steele.”

He walked away, and Edward blew out a silent breath. The two had managed to speak on a few business matters regarding the carving of the library and the future of Steele and Son, but that had been the extent of their conversations. They certainly would not be friends in the nearby future, but that was more than fine with Edward.

He was only grateful the man had finally allowed Edward to marry Marianne.

He glanced toward his new wife, Marianne laughing with her mother—about what, he could hardly even speculate. His heart was full, words unable to express the joy Marianne had brought into his life in so short a time. How he had ever lived without her was beyond him.

“You have married a remarkable woman, Ed,” Mother said, coming up to stand beside him. “Your father would have loved her.”

Edward nodded, swallowing the moisture rising in his throat. He’d thought the very same the past few weeks, but especially today.

“He always enjoyed a fine celebration,” Edward said. “He would have had a marvelous time today, had he been here.”

Mother squeezed Edward’s hand in hers. “He was here, Ed. I have to believe that he was.”

Their eyes met, tears brimming in her own. Edward reached down, embracing his mother with a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Now enough of that,” she said, pulling away to fix his cravat. “Be sure to watch over yourselves while on your journey, son. And eat often to—”

“To maintain our high spirits?” he finished for her.

She smiled up at him. “Just so.”

“We will, Mother. Worry not. You have taught me well.”

As the last of the farewells were said, Marianne and Edward entered the carriage and gave one final departing wave through the glass before the horses pulled them away from Daffley and toward their future.

Marianne instantly shuffled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his.

“Are you looking forward to the journey, my dear?” he asked, resting a hand on her knee.

“Mm. Very much so. If only to escape Father for a moment.” She ended in a small laugh. He couldn’t have agreed with her more. “I saw you speaking to him. I trust he was able to keep the conversation amiable.”

“He did. He assured me that we would discuss business matters upon our return.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

Edward nodded, peering out of the window at the green countryside passing them by. He did not relish the prospect of Mr. Coventry helping him with his woodworking, if only because he expected condescension at every turn.

But Edward would be daft, indeed, if he refused his help. He had Mother and Marianne to think of now, not just himself.

“I hope he will have a few ideas on how to improve matters,” he said.

“I’m certain he will. At any rate, anything will be better than the help I allotted you in carving the shelves in the library.”

He chuckled. “I can still see that chisel sticking out from the side of it.”

She sat upright, swatting his leg with a laugh of her own. “I tried, did I not?”

“Indeed. I’m still not convinced you could not do better. Though I think I shall not be changing it to Steele and Wife anytime soon.”

“Mm. I suspect not.” She looked up at him. “Will you still change the name, do you think?”

He shrugged. “I’ve considered it, but I think I may as well keep it now. After all, we may have a son yet.”

She beamed up at him. “Or sons,” she said, accentuating the end of the word.

“Indeed.” He tipped her chin up with his finger, pressing a kiss to her lips.

As the moments passed by with Marianne in his arms and his lips on hers, love overflowed from his heart, spilling into every inch of his soul. Sons, daughters, a wife. How Edward could ever be so fortunate, he did not know. But he would spend the rest of his days ensuring that he deserved them all. For he loved Marianne, her vivacity for life, and the delightful way her kisses always tasted of cherry tarts.

THE END

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The Stable Master’s Sonby Mindy Burbidge Strunk