garden without so much as a by your leave.
Matt was advised that his beloved no longer went riding or attended church because of a weakness in her legs that drained her strength. She had taken up sewing in honour of her dead sister, even
though he recalled as a girl she’d no liking for needlework. How could she sit for hours stitching such fancy work and not get bored? He promised that when they were wed the windows of her
parlour would be full length, facing the sun so she might enjoy the best of the light and view. She nodded with satisfaction but hardly said a word else.
He liked her quiet absorption as she followed her intricate patterns, choosing elegant stitches to paint pictures on canvas, filling in faces and colours in her own unique style. He was so proud
of her gentility, her delicate fingers. She was the beautiful ornament who would grace his new building with nobility and charm. How eager was he now to show off this precious jewel to the whole
world; this pearl without price that he had grafted so long and hard to possess. Soon she would walk down the aisle of St Peter’s to be his bride.
Sometimes when he was struggling with his accounts, trying to balance the mounting expenses, he laid down his pen and sighed that his beloved was not as lively or bright-eyed as he recalled.
Then he chastised himself for being so unfeeling. Had she not been bereaved and sick? It was too early to expect some brightness in her spirit. He took comfort from the Parson’s words. Time
was a great healer. By the time of their marriage the house would be complete and every detail must be to her liking.
He longed for her to show some excitement at the wedding preparations and her new position as his wife. It was hoped that the fresh air and winds of Yewbank would blow away all gloomy thoughts
and she would have everything in the way of fabrics and furnishing, no matter what they cost. Even the bed and its furniture were to be transported from Lawton to Yewbank, everything replicated so
she would feel it was just as it always was.
As he worked tirelessly to this end, he gave thanks that everything he had striven for was coming to fruition! The Dacres seemed relieved when the wedding day was fixed but the Parson was beside
himself that his efforts to play Cupid were not to be rewarded with the grandest wedding the district would have seen for years.
It was agreed that it would be but a simple occasion with few witnesses and a small wedding breakfast. Everyone hoped that the beautiful vistas of Yewbank would lift her spirits away from sad
memories. Her only request was that the maid Bella Carswell must also be her companion.
‘I cannot leave her behind. She took care of me when I was sick and for this she will suffer for the rest of her life.’
How could he refuse the wishes of such a caring soul? It was petty of him to resent Bella’s presence in their home. She would be a reminder to them both of the cruelty of fate so he nodded
to his bride-to-be and briefly glanced at the poor maid, swallowing his disappointment.
‘This can’t go on, Bella! This is madness. It’s gone too far,’ Eliza cried, sitting at her dressing stool and staring into the mirror. It was almost her
wedding day and she was looking terrified seeing Mirabel without her veil.
‘You have to . . . we agreed it was the only way to secure us a future. You have to go through with your side of the bargain. He is quite fooled by you. You’ve done so well,’
Mirabel smiled, but her lips strained at the thought of their deception. Her eyes flitted past the mirror with disgust. The scars were fading but not enough to be seen without a large bonnet and
black veil. Even their own father had not realized their deception. It hurt when he looked through her when she passed him in the yard. It was hard not to run after him and confess all but Eliza
was convincing enough and must take her place as the elder sister. Matt Stockdale would never have