The hedgerows were covered with supple young leaves that hid dozens of newly made nests. Bumblebees hovered over fresh clumps of clover in lush pastures dotted with lambs. The first crop of silage was ready for mowing, the rape fields were ablaze with gaudy yellow blossoms, and there wasn’t a cloud in the soft blue sky as I drove Willis, Sr., to St. George’s Church on a beautiful morning in May.
My father-in-law and I were alone in the car because Bill, as best man at the wedding, had left early for Anscombe Manor to lend his support to the groom. Will and Rob had gone ahead with him to prepare their ponies for the wedding procession. They and the other members of their prize-winning junior gymkhana team would escort the orange-blossom-bedecked white carriage in which the bride and her father would make the short journey from the manor house to the church.
“Lori,” Willis, Sr., said suddenly, “I have made a decision.”
“It’s too late to change your tie again, William,” I said, “and I don’t know why you’d want to. We agreed—after much trial and error—that the pearl-gray one was perfect.”
“My decision is unrelated to sartorial matters,” he informed me loftily.
“Good,” I said, with grim determination. “Because we’re not turning around.”
“I have decided to buy Fairworth House,” he said.
I hit the brakes to keep from swerving into a hedge. The maneuver put no one’s life at risk because our lane was the exact opposite of a major highway and Willis, Sr., had braced himself for a reaction he’d apparently anticipated. When the car came to a full stop, I rounded on him and babbled incoherently for several seconds.
“When did you . . . ? Why haven’t you . . . ? You . . . buy . . . what? ”
“Fairworth House,” he replied calmly. “The ancestral home of the Fairworthy family. It is situated—”
“I know where Fairworth House is,” I interrupted. “It’s within spitting distance of Finch. I thought the place was derelict.”
“It is in need of refurbishment,” Willis, Sr., acknowledged, “but I should be able to move into it by the end of August. I hope you will permit me to stay at the cottage until then. I would like to be on hand to oversee the work.”
“Of course you can stay at the cottage,” I exclaimed, and leaned over to give him a hug. “Oh, William, this is the best news I’ve heard in ages. Bill and the boys will go crazy when they find out. Why didn’t you wait until we were all together to make your announcement? ”
“I learned only a few hours ago that my negotiations had been successful,” he explained. “My son and my grandsons are playing vital roles in what you have on numerous occasions called the fairy-tale wedding of the century. I did not wish to distract them from their duties.”
“But . . . why now?” I asked. “We’ve been trying to persuade you to move here since . . . forever. What changed your mind?”
“If Ruth and Louise Pym taught me anything,” he said, “it is that life—even a life that lasts for more than a hundred years—is short. I intend to spend what time is left to me with those I love.”
I beamed at him, restarted the car, and smiled all the way to St. George’s Church, where I, along with every other lady on the guest list, armed myself with a dainty but serviceable hanky. The men, though they would have denied it, used bandannas or pocket squares, depending on the nature of their formal attire.
It is an inarguable fact that more tears were shed at the wedding than at the funeral. Cameron, I knew, would have appreciated the irony, but I suspected that even he would have needed a handkerchief had he seen Nell gliding weightlessly down the aisle on Derek’s arm.
She seemed to bring her own light with her into the church. Her veil floated like a silvery mist around her halo of golden curls, and her gown was a gossamer dream of silk beaded with seed pearls and bordered with wisps of breathtakingly delicate lace. Her eyes shone like midnight-blue sapphires and her flawless oval face glowed with a love so pure that it should have made angels sing.
As she drifted past me I saw something of the Pym sisters in the tiny honeybees they’d embroidered in white along the edge of her veil. Their industrious hands had rarely been at rest during their lifetimes, and they’d beautified everything they’d touched. They would have been pleased right down to the toes of their sensible shoes to see their ethereal creation worn by a young woman they’d loved so dearly.
The fairy princess had become the fairy queen, and her chosen king was waiting for her. Kit stood at the altar rail, with his violet eyes fixed blissfully on Nell, freed at last by her radiance from the shadows of the past that had haunted him. The connection between the two shining souls was so strong it was almost palpable. They stood side by side before the vicar to say their vows, and when Kit lifted Nell’s veil and touched his lips to hers, the rapturous sighs that swept through the church nearly extinguished the altar candles.