Mine Is the Night_ A Novel - Liz Curtis Higgs [179]
Reverend Brown spoke of marriage, of its purpose, of its sacredness, then asked for the rings to be produced.
Neil held out a delicate silver band, waiting for Marjory to offer up her hand.
She was embarrassed to find it trembling. Badly.
But Neil was unflappable. He took her hand, calming her at once, then slipped the ring over her finger, stopping at her knuckle, prepared to speak his vows.
The minister said, “Do you, Neil Gibson, take this woman, Marjory Nesbitt Kerr, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Neil looked down at her, smiling. And then he seemed to disappear from view as tears pooled in her eyes. Marjory had no choice but to tip her chin and let them cascade down her cheeks. When she looked up, she could see him again. And fell in love with him again.
Beloved. Aye, he was surely that.
Neil’s voice was steady, yet thick with emotion. “Even so, I take her afore God and in the presence o’ his people.” With that, he gently pushed the ring in place.
I am yours, Neil. Truly yours.
Reverend Brown turned to her and asked the same question he’d surely asked hundreds of brides. But on this day, she was the one to answer.
“And do you, Marjory Nesbitt Kerr, take this man, Neil Gibson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She slipped a thick silver band, newly purchased, onto his ring finger and looked into his eyes, amazed to find she could speak. “Even so, I take him before God and in the presence of his people.”
You are mine, Neil. Truly mine.
Marjory did not remember what else the minister said, though he spoke at length and all of it was good and right. What she remembered was the warm hand that held hers and the tender kiss that followed at the door of the manse, when the rain stopped and the sun shone and Neil Gibson swept her into his embrace.
Eighty
To marry a second time
represents the triumph
of hope over experience.
SAMUEL JOHNSON
uid morn!” Sally cried. “And a bonny wedding day to ye!”
Elisabeth turned as the maidservant entered her new dressing room at Bell Hill with a breakfast tray laden with freshly cooked eggs, a rasher of bacon, toasted bread, and raspberry jam.
“Compliments of Mrs. Tudhope,” Sally explained, placing the tray on a nearby table. She poured a steaming cup of tea, added just the right amount of sugar and milk, then offered a cheerful curtsy.
“Such service,” Elisabeth praised her, savoring her first, bracing sip. “You know, Sally, I’ll be needing a lady’s maid.”
Her eyes brightened. “Is that so?”
Elisabeth was not fooled. Sally Craig was a clever lass who never missed an opportunity to improve her situation. “Might you be interested?”
“Och!” She spun in a circle. “If ye’ll have me and Mrs. Pringle will allow it, I’m yers.”
“You must start at once,” Elisabeth cautioned her. “This very day.”
“Weel, mem, yer lavender gown is already aired and pressed. And ye’ll find yer dressing room weel stocked with lavender soap. Provided by his lordship,” she added, blushing prettily.
Elisabeth smiled. “I see I’ve chosen the right young woman.”
“Aye, mem,” Sally assured her, grinning back at her. “Noo, eat a’ yer food afore it gets cauld, and then we’ll see to yer toilette.” She took her leave, no doubt off to inform Mrs. Pringle of her new position.
Elisabeth obediently nibbled on a piece of toast and jam, thinking how strange it would be to have a maidservant waiting on her again. Bathing her, dressing her, styling her hair. She vowed to be a good mistress to Sally. Teaching her useful skills, encouraging her in matters of faith. She had further plans for the entire household if Jack would allow it. Reading and writing, to begin with. Needlework for the women. Carpentry for the men.
She’d once longed for Donald to lead the Kerr household in a time of family worship each evening after supper, a common practice in devout homes. Might Jack be willing? And include the servants as well?
So much to discuss! And a lifetime to do so, she reminded herself, overjoyed at the thought.