A Bride Of Honor. Ruth Axtell Morren

striped dress with long sleeves. “We’ve set a date.”

      “Indeed?” At her hesitant nod, he broke into a grin. “Wonderful! I was wondering what was keeping you from going ahead.”

      She smoothed down her dress. “Well, we wanted to let all the gossip and rumors die down a bit…and of course, make sure there was no adverse effect to your ministry.”

      He waved away the consideration. “You shouldn’t have let that stop you.”

      She immediately frowned. “Of course we should have. We weren’t going to leave you to face things alone. After all, it was my doing you had Jonah here all those months.”

      “Well, now he’s boarding with Elizabeth and Jacob, and I’m sure there’s no need for him to be crowded in their cottage any longer when the two of you are planning to be wed.”

      “Yes, well, that is what I came to talk to you about.”

      He lifted an eyebrow when she paused.

      “We were thinking the end of the month, on a Saturday.”

      He sat back. “The end of this month? That gives you a little over three weeks. It isn’t much time…I mean, I always thought a wedding entailed mounds of preparations,” he added with a forced chuckle. In truth, the time suddenly seemed upon them, even though he’d known it was coming. What would he do without his sister? Except for his few years at Oxford, they’d never been apart. They not only lived under the same roof but shared the ministry.

      “We don’t want to do anything elaborate. It gives us just enough time to post the banns. I—we would like you to perform the ceremony. Would you do that?” Her gray eyes looked earnestly into his.

      He reached across and took her hands. “Of course. I’d be hurt if you asked anyone else.”

      “Of course I wouldn’t do that! Besides, whom else would I ask? Reverend Doyle?” She gave a bitter laugh. “He has not spoken to me since I refused the offer of his hand, and after the trouble with Jonah, we still aren’t sure how deep his displeasure with you goes.”

      Again, he waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “Oh, don’t worry about him. His pride was a bit bruised where you were concerned, and any disagreement he had with me, I’m sure it will all smooth over in a while. He just needs some time. When he sees what an up-standing citizen Jonah is, he’ll come around.”

      She made a dismissive sound. “In any case, I wouldn’t want him officiating at my wedding.” She peered at him. “But is it all right with you? It isn’t too soon?”

      “It’s perfectly all right. I will announce the banns this Sunday. And I’ll make sure I have nothing else scheduled. Christenings and funerals and all other weddings shall have to wait!” He banged his fist on the table, rattling the various cogs and wheels, to punctuate the pronouncement. They both laughed.

      “There’s something else.”

      His laughter died at her abrupt change of tone. “What is it? Nothing wrong, is there?”

      She looked at him a moment, and he was reminded of the way his mother used to look at him. Florence often tried to fill her place—another reason he was happy that she had finally found a husband of her own, a man to cherish and take care of her the way she had done for him and so many others. “We’ve found a place.”

      He frowned, not understanding. “A place?”

      “Of our own.” She looked down at her folded hands, a shy smile softening her features. “A farm.”

      Comprehension dawned. “Th-that’s wonderful. It’s what Jonah has wanted to do, isn’t it?” Even as joy filled him, he realized the gap her news left in him. Somehow he never thought his sister would move out and have a home of her own.

      Her gray eyes met his immediately, relief flooding them. “Yes. You know he used to farm. To own his own farm, why, it’s something he never dreamed was possible for a mere laborer.”

      “Where is the farm?”

      “Oh, not so far from here. A few miles down on the Uxbridge Road. You know this place will be developed over the next few years, so we wanted something farther west where it’s still country. Jonah was talking with Mr. Merriton the other week. He told him of a farm available.” His sister hurried on, as if she were nervous.

      “It sounds just the thing.”

      Her eyes remained on him.

      “What is it, Flo?”

      “It’s for…sale.”

      He quirked an eyebrow upward. “And?”

      “We had thought of leasing something.” She swallowed. “But this one is for…sale.” Again, she said the word as if it were difficult to articulate. “We went out to see it yesterday. Oh, Damien, it’s perfect. Just the right size to farm without too much extra help. It’s near enough to London to supply the markets. Jonah looked at the fields. He says the soil is fertile and well drained. There’s a barn on the land and a good well….”

      “So, what is the hitch?”

      “It would require some capital.”

      He ran his fingers over the teeth on a cog lying on the worktable. “I see no problem with that. We have Father’s money. Is it more than that?”

      “Oh, no! But that money is for both of us. I couldn’t take it.”

      “Is that your only concern?” He sat back, feeling a surge of relief. “That money is for us to use, however we choose to use it. It was from the sale of Father’s business, and he and Mother would have wished for you and your future husband to have a home of your own.”

      “It must be divided equally between you and me.”

      “Florence, I don’t need capital. I have this living. I’m provided with a house that’s bigger than anything I need. Why shouldn’t you have that money? If we didn’t have it, I’d insist you share my house.”

      She swallowed, visibly moved. “I know you would. And I hope we can continue living a little longer under your roof, until the farmhouse is ready for us…that is, if we—” She stopped in confusion.

      Once again, he squeezed her hands. “Of course you may stay with me as long as you wish. And you needn’t say anything more about the purchase of this farm. I would love to have a look at it, of course. But otherwise, let’s talk to Mr. Samuels at the bank, shall we?”

      She seemed ready to argue some more, but he shook his head. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to deprive you of what is rightfully yours.”

      “You won’t be depriving me of anything. You see how this parish is destined to grow. Soon, I’ll be a wealthy old vicar with more income than I know what to do with—except, of course, I know very well what to do with it.”

      “Yes, if I know you, it will all go to charity.” She smiled indulgently at him.

      “As anything extra you have does,” he retorted.

      They both laughed. As they quieted, he strove to reassure her once more. “I don’t lack anything here, and since I’ll never marry, my needs are few. You, on the other hand, might still have children.” He smiled fondly, liking the thought of nieces and nephews. For so long, it seemed the two of them would remain single and childless.

      She turned a deeper shade of pink. “I never thought I would. If the good Lord would grant us offspring, I’d count myself a blessed woman indeed.” She sobered. “It would help make up for Jonah’s loss.”

      He nodded, thinking of his future brother-in-law’s loss of wife and two young offspring before they had met him. Homeless and hungry they’d perished in the harsh winter after Jonah had been locked up in Newgate, victims of the enclosure laws, which were displacing farm laborers and bringing them to the cities with few skills. The Lord