The Sea Shell Girl (39 page)

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Authors: Linda Finlay

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‘Merryn! Wait. I'm coming, Merryn.' Turning she saw Carey hurrying up the path towards her and her heart flipped.

‘Thank you, Mother,' she whispered, then ran towards him as fast as she could. His arms closed around her and, as she leaned against his trembling chest, her heart swelled with love for him.

‘Oh, Merryn, I thought you were going to jump,' he murmured into her hair.

‘And I thought you'd gone back to Plymouth,' she cried.

‘I did, but only because I needed to collect this,' he said, reaching into his waistcoat pocket and drawing out his
kerchief. Then to her surprise, he fell to one knee and stared up at her beseechingly. ‘Dearest Merryn, please say you'll marry me.'

As she stared at the ring with its heart-shaped sapphire, she thought she'd burst with happiness.

‘Yes, Carey, I will,' she cried.

Overhead a damselfly soared and dipped, then completely encircled them.

CHAPTER 41
Twelve Months Later

Merry stared out of the mullioned window as she waited impatiently for Carey's return. Down below, the boats were being overhauled as they were made ready for the next evening's fishing. Men sat mending their nets; the women were knitting and chatting, whilst the children ran around playing. Then she spotted dark-haired Nicco scuttling along the quay. How quickly he'd succumbed to the obvious charms and close attentions of Wyllow. After all the angst he'd caused Merry with his overbearing ways, it made her heart sing to see him dancing like a puppet to his new wife's bidding.

Smiling, she twisted the gold band around her finger. So much had happened in a comparatively short space of time. Of course, if it hadn't been for Saphira, she and Carey might never have married. Overjoyed when Carey told her the news of their betrothal, she'd taken Merry aside.

‘Merry, my conscience is plaguing me and I really must confess to using a little subterfuge that day we sat at the point.'

‘What do you mean?' she'd replied, although she already had her suspicions.

‘When I told you Carey said he couldn't live without
you, I might have put those words into his mouth, so to speak. I knew you were right for each other and guessed the only way to make you see that was to demonstrate what Nicco was really like. Then when you said you had to go to see Carey, I let you think he had returned home for good, although I knew all along he'd gone to collect that,' she said, pointing to the sapphire ring Merry was wearing. ‘He inherited the ring when Mother died. Anyway, he said he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hadn't at least asked you to marry him. Believe me, I only had your best interests at heart, so am I forgiven?'

As clear blue eyes stared into hers, Merry smiled. ‘Only if you're sure you don't mind me having the Meredith ring?'

‘Goodness me, no. When I marry I shall expect a brand-new one. How else will I be able to judge the man's worth? Besides, we both have our sapphire necklaces, don't we?'

‘I can't believe Mother wore it all those years without realizing its value. Mind you, I was none the wiser until Carey explained. I have to confess I'm happier wearing this one, though,' Merry said, stroking the silver chain with its heart charm.

It had been ten months since she'd married Carey, at their Walking Wedding, so named because of the long walk to the nearest church. Mr Fairbright had given her away, taking his role as the bride's proxy father very seriously. Dressed in white duck trousers, blue coat, a high hat and white gloves, as tradition decreed, he'd walked alone to the church, handing out a piece of cake as the kimbly gift to the first person he met on the way to ensure
good fortune. Carey's uncle had acted as best man as well as providing their beautiful flowers, whilst Saphira, Freckles and Prunella had been bridesmaids. Prunella had been radiant, confiding that she and Nicholas were to be betrothed. Apparently, she'd satisfied her mother by agreeing to be called Prim-Smith after the ceremony.

As ever, Freckles had been full of mischief and when, on leaving the church, Merry had put up her parasol and been showered with rice, she'd convulsed into hysterics. Chester, meanwhile, had tied tin cans to the back of Carey's carriage. She shook her head, remembering the clattering that had followed them all the way from the village.

She'd shared her bridal spray of red roses between her mother and Jenna's graves, and had been ecstatic when not one but two damselflies had fluttered overhead. As expected, Grozen had pooh-poohed her notion that they were her mother and friend flying free, yet Merry had seen the woman's joyful smile as she watched them soaring and dipping their way overhead.

She stared around the bright airy room, with its comfortable furnishings, still marvelling that she should have ended up living in the home of her dreams. Carey had been surprised when she'd tentatively voiced her preference to reside here in the granite house perched high on the cliff overlooking the village.

‘But wouldn't you rather live in Plymouth?' he'd asked. ‘Perhaps return to your job until we are wed? It would be such a shame to waste your skills.'

She'd smiled. ‘I'd be more comfortable here. Mr Fairbright has already asked if I would continue knitting my
shell-patterned jumpers for him to sell from his outlet here. He even hinted that I might oversee this operation in the future. So you see, this would be the perfect place to raise a family, and I'd be able to keep an eye on Grozen too.'

‘Well, your wish is my command, wonderful wife of mine,' he teased. ‘As it happens, Lady Sutherland has agreed to my having a long-term tenancy on this place. I'll remove the housekeeper and cook from Plymouth to look after us. Why not ask Grozen if she'd like to come and live here? It's plenty big enough and will be much warmer for her too.'

‘Oh, I don't think she'll want to leave her cottage. Still, I can ask.'

Now, clattering from the kitchen roused her from her reverie. She could hear Grozen explaining to the cook how stargazy pie should be made. To Merry's surprise, the older woman had jumped at the chance to move in with them.

‘Why would I want to stay in that draughty old place when I can live in comfort here with splendid coal fires to warm my bones?' she'd muttered, conveniently forgetting her previous predilection for wood. ‘Of course, I'll have to make sure the cook produces nourishing meals for you, especially now.'

Merry winced and ran her hand over her swollen stomach. ‘Not long now, little one,' she sighed, easing herself into her chair and taking up her pins. Whilst the wool she was knitting with was much softer than that she used for her knit frocks, she had incorporated some of the traditional patterns into the cot cover. Sighing, she remembered the
day she'd met Cador in the village. Having only just found she was expecting, she wasn't even showing but the wizened man had stared at her with those jade eyes and told her he could see a cot blanket would be needed before long.

‘Pink will be the perfect colour, and the baby's name won't pose you any problem now, will it? Although, of course, if she developes a passion for rock pools, like her mother, she might also be known as the Sea Shell Girl,' he'd grinned.

Smiling at the memory, Merry cast off the final stitch, then smoothed out the blanket on the table before her. The seeds and bars provided the perfect border for the shells she'd worked into each corner, but it was the damselfly in the middle she was really proud of. It had taken a lot of work but at last it was ready for when Karenza Jenna decided to make her appearance. And as if she knew, her baby gave another kick.

Then the door opened and her heart flipped as Carey, resplendent in his uniform, stood there grinning. Her love was home from the sea, and just in time, it would seem.

Acknowledgements

With grateful thanks to the wonderful team at Penguin. Teresa Chris for her continued support. My friends at BWC for their encouragement. The staff at Polperro Harbour Heritage Museum for answering my numerous questions and showing me their splendid Guernsey sweaters, known as knit frocks.

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First published 2016

Copyright © Linda Finlay, 2016

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Cover images: Girl © Maria Heyens/ Arcangel and © Stephen Mulcahey/ Trevillion Images; landscape © Ellen Rooney / Robert Harding/ Getty Images

ISBN: 978-1-405-92223-4

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