A Country Marriage by Sandra Jane Goddard Read Free Book Online

parish.’
    ‘Lord alive, now there’s a worthy cause an’ no mistake.’
    ‘Aye. And I’ll tell you summat else for nothin’…’
    ‘Aye?’
    ‘They’re right with what they say, too.’
    ‘Aye? An’ what’s that then, if I might enquire?’
    ‘Well they say that if things don’t soon get better for ordinary folks like thee and me, then the sort of… unrest and… protests going on over there, will fetch up here.’
    ‘You reckon? What, even here in Verneybrook?’
    Verneybrook? She forced her eyes wide and determined to listen more attentively. What protests? And what sort of unrest?
    ‘You can mark my words on it,’ the conversation continued.
    ‘You know summat more than you’re lettin’ on, then?’
    ‘I do not, no. But it don’t need no learning to see how such unrest might spread, do it? I mean, according to Eli, feelings are running high across the whole county.’
    ‘Well, you should know, what with you being connected …’
    ‘Indeed, indeed, I count I am, as you say, connected. But anyways, enough of such talk; seems to me I can see the bottom of this ’ere mug an’ there’s another matter that can’t be right. So how about we go an’ help ourselves to some more ale before them there no-goods piss it all into the hedge?’
    ‘A timely suggestion, my friend. Lead on.’
    With nothing better to do, she turned to watch the pair’s progress towards the ale barrels. Was there, she wondered, any basis to what they had been discussing? But with no way of knowing, she turned back to take in the view across the barn, picking out that George was now heading towards her. Yes, the truth of the matter was that she had other, rather more pressing concerns.
    ‘Come on then, Mary, best get you home.’
    Home. If only.
    Somewhat stiffly she got to her feet and when he offered his arm, she accepted it so that together they began to pick their way through their guests towards the door.
    ‘Oh, forgive me,’ she mumbled when her shoe caught in the skirt of a woman sprawled in the straw. The woman, though, didn’t even stop snoring.
    ‘No harm done,’ he rejoined with a grin.
    ‘No,’ she agreed. Perhaps, all things considered, it was a just as well that her mother hadn’t come.
    When they eventually reached the door, he held it open; the fresh night air beyond it as reviving to her head as a cool drink would have been to her parched mouth, and at the shock of it, she shivered.
    ‘Cold?’
    ‘A little.’ His concern, she noted, as they set off, didn’t extend to offering her his jacket.
    ‘Ain’t much of a traipse.’
    She smiled, resolving that from then on, she would try to talk to him; well, at least try to answer his questions rather than just nod.
    ‘That’s good.’
    Fragments from her earlier walk to the church unwound through her mind. Was that only a few hours since? It felt so much longer. The dread was still the same, though. Different hedgerows to pass maybe, but identical fears.
    With the flickering glow from the lantern illuminating just a small circle at their feet, she glanced upwards. A speckle of stars was spread unevenly across the midnight sky and the harvest moon, brim-full and honeyed, was suspended above the beech hanger. Her instinct was to comment upon the prettiness of it, just as she might have done when out walking with her father, when her remark would have brought him to a stop to admire what he called the majesty of the heavens . Would George, though, have a mind for such things? It was hard to tell. And in which case, it was doubtless preferable to remain silent. No man wanted a wife with a head full of fanciful nonsense. Or so Ma always said.
    ‘Here, let me go ahead,’ he suddenly said, coming to a halt at the top of a steep bank, ‘only, the steps down are a mite uneven until you get used.’ And after descending a short distance, he turned back and offered his hand. Briefly, she hesitated. If only she could still her nerves! Chiding herself, she