Sarah, however, was not amused. The daughter and sister of canal men should not turn up her nose at the daughter of alieutenant in the navy. She opened her mouth to correct her sister-in-law but then closed it again. Most of these young ladies were nearly ten years her junior. Their ideas and impressions were still forming. It was often easier to laugh with the other girls than be laughed at.
Clipping the end of her thread, Sarah said, “Some women create their positions in Society by tearing other women down. My mother made her mark by building other ladies up, and in my opinion, if there aren’t enough seats at the table, then we can always fetch another chair.”
The girls did not laugh or smile at Sarah’s statement, but Deborah’s face turned a dark red. Sarah had not meant to embarrass any of them—only to help them realize that individually they were much nicer than they were as a group.
“There are plenty of chairs at Manderfield Hall,” Deborah said at last. “I, for one, would like to invite Miss Everett to join us. I daresay Wigan wouldn’t mind carrying in another seat.”
“And if there aren’t enough chairs, we could always sit on the blankets outside,” Margaret added. “The weather is so lovely this time of year.”
Sarah smiled approvingly at both her sisters-in-law. They were good girls. They just needed an older woman’s experience and guidance. Sarah had said and done many foolish things in her youth, and her mother’s gentle reprimands had helped her become a kinder, wiser woman.
Miss Lily clapped her hands. “I should love a sewing picnic. Perhaps at my house next Wednesday?”
Miss Wentworth set down the little dress she was sewing for the poor. “I shall stop at Mrs. Stephens’s rooms today and invite Miss Everett on my way home, if that is agreeable with you all.”
There was not one naysayer in the group.
Sarah left the room to call for tea. Mr. Wigan assured her that he would bring tea and a generous spread of cakes and biscuitsfor their guests. Walking back from the servants’ quarters, she saw Christopher coming in from the front door. He was wearing his riding coat. The handsome garment had only two capes—many fashionable gentlemen wore as many as twelve—but her husband didn’t need extra padding in his shoulders. He was a strong and handsome man. And every time that she saw him, Sarah’s breath caught a little, and it felt like there were butterflies in her chest.
Smiling, Christopher strode up to her. The fluttering in Sarah’s chest expanded to her belly. She felt a subtle warmth all over by just being near him. “Did you enjoy your ride with Mr. Whitman and Mr. Robinson?”
“Very much. We marked where to divert the river and the path it would take to create Sir Oscar’s lake,” he said, pulling a letter out of his coat pocket. “And I stopped at the postmaster and picked up the mail.” He opened the letter to reveal a poster with her mother’s picture in the middle, including details of where to give information of her whereabouts for a modest fee. He handed it to her. The wood printing was not quite as accurate as Christopher’s sketch, but it was still a remarkable likeness to her mother. “I authorized my man of business to put posters at every port and send copies to our foreign contacts. I am hopeful that someone will send word of having seen Lady Manders.”
Instinctively, Sarah rolled onto her tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Christopher. You have made me more hopeful than I have been in years.”
His skin tasted both sweet and salty, and he smelled like the forest. Sarah felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. Her husband’s face turned the same shade of dark red that Deborah’s had only a few minutes before. Sarah wondered how it would feel to brush her lips against his mouth. Their first and only kiss had happened so quickly. Would his beard still feel scratchy on her skin? Or soft like the curls on the top of his head? Would he tastesalty or sweet? She realized that she was staring at his lips and forced her eyes away from his handsome face.
“I was wondering if you would like to go with me to meet some of the tenants today,” he said in a low voice. “Or another time, if that would be better.”
Her husband was as nervous with her as she was with him. A surge of warmth grew in her chest. She could be friends with such a kind and thoughtful man. She might even grow to love him.
Sarah smiled at him and tried not to stare at his lips again. “Your sisters are hosting their first sewing circle, and I don’t think they need me. Am I correct to assume that you prefer to ride rather than take a carriage?”
Christopher gave her a curt nod. “Aye. I don’t like being closed in.”
Sarah nodded. “As it happens, I have sewed myself the most beautiful new riding habit, and I have been itching to show it off. I used some of the blonde lace you gave me for the embroidery work on the bodice. It turned out very pretty, if I do say so myself. If you’ll give me a quarter hour, I’ll get changed.”
His lips quirked upward, but he held in his smile. As she walked back to her dressing room and pulled the cord for Nelly, she wondered why he was so reluctant to show his emotions. Perhaps it was because Christopher was a man. The male sex was supposed to be reserved with their feelings and not wear their hearts on their sleeves. Not that either Uncle Oscar or Ralph had ever attempted to mask their emotions. Everyone knew when Ralph was joyous and when he was miserable. He had always been a terrible cardplayer; he could not keep a straight face. And Uncle Oscar smiled often, usually when something vacuous or nonsensical was said. He delighted in the ridiculous and was affectionate with his wife and children. And with Sarah.
She couldn’t remember ever hugging her own father, nor having him pat her head or shoulder, like Uncle Oscar did. Come to think of it, Papa had openly showed his emotions. Mostly his anger. He’d yelled, stomped, punched the wall, and thrown things. When Sarah had been little, she’d been grateful he wasn’t interested in being in the same room as her. Sometimes she’d curtsied to him before he and Mama went to dinner, but she never ate her meals with either of them. The only time she’d been allowed to play with her mother before she’d been sent away to school was in the early afternoons.
“Already tired of the younglings?” Nelly asked.
Throwing back her head, Sarah laughed. “Were we ever that small and silly?”
Her maid answered with a straight face. “Sillier.”
Sarah nudged her friend with her elbow. “Particularly over a very handsome footman by the name of Guy.”
She could see her friend’s dimple peeping out as she pretended to be serious. “You rang for me, my lady?”
“Yes, Miss Mills. I need you to try on your wedding gown. I think I’ve made all the needed alterations. And then I would love assistance in putting on my new riding habit.”
Sarah played the maid first and helped unbutton Nelly’s day frock and set it on the bed. She carefully pulled the wedding gown over her friend’s head. The dress was truly a work of art, and Sarah enjoyed seeing another person wear it. Nelly beamed and looked more stunning than ever. The soft white accented her gorgeous dark hair. She turned around in a full circle, admiring her reflection in the mirror.
“I think I shall bring it in a little here and here,” Sarah said pinching the two areas on the side of the bodice that needed darts to better contour to Nelly’s frame. “Then it shall be perfect for you to wear in a fortnight. I can’t wait until Guy sees you in it.”
Nelly twirled around one last time. “He’ll lose his mind, he will.”