Marrying Christopher (49 page)

He opened the door, pulling it slowly, grateful for the creak of the hinges that would alert her that someone was entering. A fire burned in a stove on the far side of the room, warming both the water boiling on top of it and the small cabin.

Marsali did not turn from her task. “Please tell Mrs. Price that I’ll take my luncheon later,” she said as she continued scrubbing. “I’ve just a few more things to wash, and I’ll be done.”

“Your skills have greatly improved, Mrs. Thatcher.”

Her hands ceased moving, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. Slowly, she turned to him, a look of cautious hopefulness in her soulful eyes. “Are you real, Christopher? So many times I have imagined you— have believed that I saw you, only to be fooled.”

“I am real.” His eyes darted to her dripping hands and the ring he had given her. “You are still wearing my ring and have kept my name.”

“I am still your wife.” Tears filled her eyes, and he waited no more but swooped forward, pulling her into his embrace. Her hands came around his neck and pulled his face closer, and she kissed him first, as she had done on their wedding night.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed between their frantic kisses. “I thought you were dead. But I never loved another. I swear it. That night at the ball I was only pretending, as everyone said I must.”

“I know.” Christopher pressed his lips to her cheeks, her forehead, her hair. He couldn’t hold her tightly enough. “I have been a third time to New York, and Charlotte herself told me the whole story.” He held Marsali, and she clung to him, as if she might never let go, a rather good idea, considering all they had been through.

“I am here now,” he said, reassuring her once more. “I am here, and I will not leave you. We will not be parted again.”

Out in the yard behind them a chorus of cheers and applause erupted. Still holding Marsali, Christopher turned them so they could see through the open doorway to the crowd of servants and family members gathered outside. The stout woman who had greeted him seemed to have gathered everyone to witness their happy reunion.

Marsali smiled through her tears. “They have been good to me here,” she said.

“I am glad to hear it.” Christopher bent low, intending to kiss her again. “But from now on it is I who will be good to you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, slow kiss that elicited more cheering from the group in the yard.

“We will be good to each other,” Marsali said when, after several long seconds, they at last parted. She gave him a dazzling smile. “But I fear that if you insist upon kissing me like that, we must make a call upon the preacher today. We are in Virginia after all, and the validity of our marriage may be somewhat in question.”

“We will go see the preacher
right now,
” Christopher growled. He swept her into his arms and carried her outside. “Never more will there be any questions regarding our status as husband and wife. We are married, and the world had best understand that.”

Marsali laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “They shall,” she promised. “Marrying you was the best decision of my life. It was the
beginning
of my life.”

“And mine,” Christopher said. And he kissed her once more in front of everyone.

“Oh, my, but Marsali is beautiful,” Grace exclaimed, peering at the long-awaited daguerreotype that had been enclosed with Christopher’s last letter. He had been promising to send one for some time, and now that it was here she could not seem to stop staring at it— at them, the happy couple and three darling children.

“And look at Christopher, so handsome and grown up,” Helen said as she studied the image of her brother and his family, seated on the front porch of their sprawling home in Virginia.

“I should hope he has grown up at last,” Samuel said good-naturedly. “After all, he is thirty-five now. Perhaps the pranks of his youth are at last behind him.”

“He never did us any harm.” Helen linked her arm through Samuel’s. “Have you still not forgiven him for spying on us when we first kissed?”

“Of course I have,” Samuel said. “I was never upset to begin with. It was Christopher’s brilliant scheming that led me to you.”

“A fact you ought never forget!”

All three looked up at the loud voice— one they had not heard for nearly fourteen years.

“Christopher?” Grace reacted first, rushing toward him and flinging herself into his arms with Helen close behind. “I cannot believe you are here,” she cried. “That you have surprised us so.”

He pulled back from their embrace and flashed his old, lopsided grin. “I told you I was coming. I wrote that you would see me soon.”

“I thought you meant in a daguerreotype.” Exasperated but terribly pleased, she stuck her lip out in an exaggerated pout. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still as mischievous as ever.”

“So is your husband,” Christopher said. “It was he who suggested I surprise you. He knew of my plan.”

As if on cue Nicholas appeared in the doorway behind them. “I’m back.” His arms were laden, not with the Christmas parcels he said he had gone to London for, but with luggage belonging to Christopher and his family. Grace could not imagine a finer present.

“Grace and Helen, Nicholas and Samuel, I would like you to meet my wife, Marsali.”

Christopher clasped the small woman’s hand in his and drew her forward, from the shadow behind him where she and their children had been waiting while he had his fun with the surprise.

“You’re even lovelier in person.” Grace came forward and hugged Marsali, and Helen followed. “Welcome to Sutherland Hall.”

“Thank you,” Marsali said as she glanced about the towering room. “It is very— festive.”

Grace and Nicholas laughed together.

“It has become somewhat of a tradition,” Nicholas explained. “Every Christmas season we try to outdo the previous in lifting the gloom from these old walls. We may have gone a bit overboard in recent years.”

Grace followed his gaze to the fresh garland and boughs of holly strung everywhere. “You shall have to take advantage of the kissing balls while you are here,” she said, drawing closer to Nicholas. “There is one in every room.”

“Even the nursery?” Christopher’s oldest son wrinkled his nose as if disgusted, reminding Grace of his father many years ago.

“Even the nursery,” Nicholas confirmed. “Don’t let your cousins catch you there,” he advised.

“Oh let’s do call the children in from their play,” Helen said. “All but the littlest have gone sledding up the hill.”

“Why call them in? We should join them,” Christopher said. “Keep your coats on, children.”

“You haven’t changed,” Grace said and felt glad of it.

“That isn’t entirely true,” Christopher said. He pulled Marsali closer and draped his arm across her shoulders. “When I left here I thought you all were mad, with your tender affections and expressions of love for one another. I couldn’t wait to get away from it and be around people who hadn’t lost their minds to such.”

“And then he met me,” Marsali said, a playful smile curving her lips.

They are perfect for each other.
Grace had gathered this already from the many letters that had been exchanged over the years, but seeing them together made it all the more obvious.

“And then I met you,” Christopher agreed, looking down at Marsali. “And now I know better.” He steered her beneath the kissing ball in the room and kissed her right there for all to see.

“He learned from the best,” Samuel said, clearing his throat after several seconds had passed and they still had not broken apart.

“True enough,” Christopher said, at last releasing a blushing Marsali. “Everything I know I learned from my wife.”

The others laughed. Christopher joined them, but a moment later his look turned serious.

“How blessed to find you all so well. How fortunate we all are.”

Grace and Helen nodded their agreement.

“We have found the love our mother never had,” Grace said.

“And places to call home,” Helen added.

“We have honored Grandfather’s legacy well,” Christopher said solemnly. “And none of us need fear England anymore.”

Author’s Historical Notes

Writing historical fiction is both daunting and fascinating, and as an author I often find myself drawn into the past, researching far more than I need to for the story and having to choose those few events that will most enrich the tale I am attempting to tell.

As
Marrying Christopher
is a work of fiction, there were some liberties taken, regarding the events that took place and particularly the ability to travel by steamship in 1828. Actual facts regarding the ship were accurate, inasmuch as I was able to research them, but Captain Gower’s ship was truly ahead of its time— about ten years ahead. Its predecessor, which he references in the story, the American made
SS Savannah,
did sail across the Atlantic in 1819 and was wrecked off Long Island in 1821. Like Captain Gower’s ship, the
Savannah
was met with much superstition. In spite of her speed, the public did not embrace steam travel until the late 1830s and early ’40s, when the British-made
SS Great Western
began regularly scheduled service across the Atlantic. Like the
Amanda May
,
the
Great Western
also had sails and a single smokestack. It’s remarkable to think of the progress that was soon to come, with ships like the
Titanic
taking passengers across the Atlantic just seventy years later.

The other vessels referenced in the story, the
Josephine
— the Irish packet ship that rescues Lady Cosgrove and Marsali— and the Black Ball Line “Blood Boats” were both in service in 1828.

The practice of boarding merchant ships and pressing crewmen into service for the Royal Navy was also common during this time period, though far more so in earlier years during the Napoleonic wars and the America Revolution. The opium trade was also a very lucrative— and troubling— reality for the East India Company.

That a young woman like Marsali would find herself on Lime Street in the red-light district of Liverpool was also realistic, with prostitution being a significant problem in Liverpool and other large cities in the 1800s. Disease was rampant, and many young women suffered for having this lifestyle. Some chose it, but often it was seen as the only means for a woman of a lower class to support herself.

America was not without her troubles either, with the issue of slavery heading toward a conflict that would nearly divide the young nation. The sprawling plantations of the south with their tobacco and cotton crops required large numbers of laborers, entrenching the society with a perceived need to continue practicing slavery. Indentured servants were also common, and Marsali’s contracted term of four years was indeed generous, with most terms lasting between five and seven years.

Amidst these evils, the world was also entering an age of progress— for better or worse.
Joseph Niépce’s heliograph was an exciting invention in 1828, and it was not too many years after when daguerreotypes became common enough that Christopher would have been able to send one home to his family.

And though Christopher doubted when Captain Gower suggested that someday men might travel the Atlantic more regularly for business or pleasure, that time was not far distant, allowing us to imagine that families once separated by distances so vast could be reunited again.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading
Marrying Christopher.
I hope you enjoyed Christopher’s and Marsali’s voyage across the Atlantic and their journey to love.

The book you just read is the third in the Hearthfire Historical Romance series. The next novel in this line is set in Scotland during the late 1700s and revolves around the lives of twin brothers who are facing the difficulties of the Highland Clearances following the failed Jacobite uprising of 1745. Watch for previews and teasers on my
website
in coming months.

Coming this December, also from Mirror Press, is the
Timeless Regency Collection: A Midwinter Ball
.
This volume features three novellas by three authors— Annette Lyon, Heidi Ashworth, and myself— all centered around a midwinter ball.

I am equally excited to be one of the twelve authors involved in the
Matchmaker series
. Watch for the prequel novella this November and the twelve full-length romance novels to follow, one each month in 2016.

So many wonderful things to look forward to! Thank you for being a part of those. I continue to appreciate those who take the time to read my stories and those who post reviews as well. You make it possible for me to continue doing what I love.

If you would like more information about my other books and future releases, please visit
www.michelepaigeholmes.com
. You can also follow me on Twitter at
@MichelePHolmes
.

Happy reading!