The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff

she whispered, wondering how it was possible to feel so sad and elated at the same time.

Epilogue

       Cadgwith, The Lizard, Cornwall

       Samhain, the ending of one year – the beginning of the next

      On a late autumn day, as the last red rays of setting sun cast their magic over Mammwynn’s little garden, Colenso and Kitto, silver ribbons binding their hands, exchanged vows of love in front of family and friends. Dressed in a red dress that matched her shoes, a circlet of wild flowers and herbs bound with myrtle adorning her flowing tresses, Colenso had never felt happier.

      ‘Marjoram for love, rosemary to stimulate the heart and parsley for lust,’ Mammwynn whispered in her ear.

      ‘Myrtle for good luck, love and prosperity in marriage,’ Mara added.

      Colenso smiled, content to know the two women who’d meant so much to her were here together on this special occasion. She’d chosen to hold their handfasting on the day when the veil between the two worlds was at its thinnest. Her hand stroked the pentacle that Kitto had mended and, feeling its warmth, she knew all was well.

      As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving them bathed in the light of the flickering candles, Kitto leaned forward and kissed her passionately on the lips. He looked so handsome in the new jacket Emily had insisted on making him, a sprig of heather pinned to his lapel, but it was the love shining from his eyes that made Colenso’s pulse race.

      ‘Well, Mrs Rowse, wife and love of my life, are you ready to jump from your old life into our new one?’ he asked, transferring the silver ribbon to the handle of the besom and holding it out to her.

      ‘I am, Mr Rowse, husband and holder of my heart,’ she replied, taking it from him. Then as the assembled well-wishers fell silent, she straddled the broom and made the symbolic leap towards him. Everyone cheered and applauded, but Colenso and Kitto only had eyes for each other as they sealed the magical moment with another kiss.

      ‘We’ve finally made it, Mrs Rowse,’ he murmured.

      ‘Let’s hope the road we travel together will prove less hazardous than the past year.’

      ‘Road? Travel? I’ll have you know we’re not going anywhere, wife of mine. We’re going to settle in our cot and raise a whole brood,’ he told her, eyes sparking with mischief.

      ‘All in good time, husband dear. I have my new sweet-making venture to set up first. Who’d have thought the new baker would want to expand into confections?’ she sighed. ‘And it was nice of Mr Whitelaw to let us have that old cottage next to his house, wasn’t it?’

      ‘It was, but I think he might have had an ulterior motive,’ he grinned, nodding over to where the works manager was smiling lovingly down at Caja. ‘I think another wedding might be on the cards soon.’

      ‘Mamm looks so happy. I’m pleased she’s been given a second chance. She had such a miserable life with Father.’

      ‘Well, she hasn’t got to worry about Peder any longer, has she? I mean, he literally drank himself to death.’ Colenso couldn’t help shivering as she remembered that night at the Devil’s Frying Pan. As if sensing her thoughts, Kitto pulled her close.

      ‘I know, I’ll help things along,’ Colenso smiled, taking the circlet from her hair.

      ‘Hey Mamm, catch,’ she called, tossing the flowers towards her. They watched them sail through the air and land in Caja’s outstretched hands.

      ‘Nice one, sis.’ She looked up to see Tomas giving her the thumbs-up. Alys was by his side, grinning widely.

      ‘Oh, so that’s the way of things, is it? I shall have to have a word with that brother of yours,’ Kitto said as they came over to join them.

      ‘Don’t worry, Kitto, I’ll look after Alys. You just make sure you take good care of Colenso,’ Tomas declared.

      ‘Looks like we might become sisters-in-law again, then,’ Colenso squealed, throwing her arms around the girl, who beamed delightedly. ‘And it’s good to see you, Daveth. How you’ve grown up since I last saw you.’

      As the boy blushed, everyone suddenly surged forward, eager to wish them well. Colenso smiled and greeted them all warmly.

      Then, as the silver moon rose in the sky, someone took up an accordion and began to play. As jaunty music filled the air, Kitto turned to her and smiled.

      ‘I believe it’s traditional for us to lead the dancing, so shall we?’ he asked, holding out his hand and leading her into the centre of the little garden.

      His arms tightened around her and she smiled happily up at him as they swayed gently together. The others joined them and there was hardly room to move, but she didn’t mind in the slightest. She was home with her love at last. The ending of one year, the beginning of the next.

      ‘I told you to have faith in the magic of the rock,’ Mara whispered.

      ‘There’s a proper time for everything and everything has its season. This is yours,’ Mammwynn’s voice drifted on the breeze. In the background the rowans gently rustled.

      ‘Blessed be,’ they cried in unison.

      Colenso stared up at Kitto and knew she truly was.

Acknowledgements and Heartfelt Thanks to…

      Gary Hill at The Serpentine Works at Lizard Point, for allowing me into his workshop and showing me how the serpentine is worked and turned.

      Pem, for his research on the places and dates all the fairs took place.

      Teresa Chris, for her continued encouragement and passion for this story.

      Kate Mills and her wonderful team at HQ, who are always so helpful and enthusiastic.

      My friends at BWC, who continue to listen and give their invaluable feedback.

      Thank you all.

       The Flower Seller

      Linda Finlay

      To Pern, for your continued encouragement and support

       Chapter 1

       London, September 1892

      Forgetting all she’d been taught about dignified deportment, Isabella swept through the doors of Claridge’s as if blown in on the autumn breeze. Her golden curls and bright blue eyes drew many an admiring glance to which she was oblivious, as she hastily smoothed down the silk of her lilac skirts and straightened the strands of pearls around her neck. With her visit to Italy only days away, she’d been shopping for accessories to complement the new outfits her dressmaker had delivered that morning, and browsing the delightful displays, she’d completely lost track of time. Not wishing to keep Maxwell waiting, she hurried between the ornate marble columns and into the garden room decorated with potted palms. He’d been so preoccupied with business recently that time with him was precious.

      A waiter showed her to a table secreted behind one of the oriental silk screens that divided the room into private alcoves.

      ‘Isabella, darling,’ he greeted her, rising to his feet. He was looking especially handsome in his dark jacket with a high-necked waistcoat, and the appreciative gleam in his slate-grey eyes sent shivers tingling down her spine, although she endeavoured not to show it.

      ‘I hope