“What about me?” Timmy wanted to know. “Will there be meat pies for everyone? I like kidney pie best, but Sam likes pork and Mum always makes what he likes because he is the eldest.”
The sting of these words momentarily put Lewis off his stride. But Mrs. Kinsey quickly corrected her youngest.
“Sam gets to choose because he works all day with your father and therefore deserves a treat. You are at home, sampling the biscuits I make while he sweats in the sun. Now, let’s hear no more about favorites. For you know full well I don’t have any.” She grabbed both boys by the arm and pulled them close to her. “If I squish you all togetherlike this, I have room in my arms for all of ye.” And she proceeded to do just that, with Jilly joining in and the boys squirming and complaining that they weren’t babies anymore.
All at once, the room fell into shadow as a large figure filled the doorway.
“Da’s home!” Timmy wriggled out of his mother’s arms to climb into his father’s.
Mr. Kinsey scooped him up and tucked him under one muscular arm like a piglet. “It seems I’ve caught my dinner.” Grinning, he ruffled Timmy’s hair before setting him back on his feet again.
“What fine guests we have,” commented Mr. Kinsey. He winked at Jilly before adding, “If only your husband-to-be was as smart a fellow as this, you would have done well, indeed, Jilly girl.”
Jilly stepped forward and took Lewis’s hand. “This is Lewis, Da’. But of course you knew that. And here is his sister, Miss Penelope Bradford, come to watch us be married.”
Lewis extended a hand to Mr. Kinsey, who took it firmly. “I am grateful for your blessing, sir, though I wish I could have asked for it in person.”
“No harm done, lad. You just be good to our daughter and we’ll never have a cross word between us.” There was a slight increase in pressure in the handshake. Lewis could feel it wasn’t a patch on the sheer force the powerful man could exert. But it was enough. A not-so-subtle warning from a protective father who loved his daughter. As friendly as the man appeared, Lewis would not want to be on his wrong side. Fortunately, he could imagine no scenario in which he would be.
A tall, lanky lad stepped around Mr. Kinsey. He could have been Jack’s twin, except he was several inches taller, and his hands, though free of dirt, were rough and stained from the juices of many plants—unlike his father who probably wore working gloves.
Lewis reached out to shake his hand, but the youngster self-consciously tucked his own into his pockets and dipped his head to acknowledge the greeting instead. Then he ignored Lewis and called to his mother. “Is dinner ready, Mum? I’m starving.”
“Just about,” she answered and turned back to the saucepan to give the soup a quick stir. “Jilly, set the table, will you?” she said. “And remember to add bowls for our guests.”
Pen nudged Lewis. “We should go,” she whispered.
“I’ve hardly got here,” he muttered back.
“Do you mean to take food from their mouths?” she replied with a note of dismay.
Lewis had not considered this. He was ashamed that he had given it no thought at all. He was just so happy to be with Jillian again. And the interactions of the family drew him like a magnet. He was loath to leave, but it was the right thing to do.
“Thank you, Mrs. Kinsey,” he said, “but we have made arrangements to dine at the inn. Besides, I probably shouldn’t really see my bride before the wedding. I did very much want to meet you all, but I suppose the rest must wait until tomorrow. We will see you at church and after, when we sample yourdelicious cake.” He paused and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I would like to contribute toward the celebrations, but Jillian has assured me in her correspondence that the ladies of the neighborhood have everything in hand. I confess this degree of unhelpfulness makes me very uncomfortable. Is there nothing at all I can do?”
“Look yer best for the ceremony,” said Mrs. Kinsey, “and be good to our Jilly, and you’ve got it all covered, I’d say.”
“A crate of drink wouldn’t go amiss with the village lads,” added Mr. Kinsey, patting Lewis on the shoulder with his broad hand.
“An excellent thought, sir,” Lewis answered gratefully. He didn’t doubt for a minute that ample drink had been arranged. Mr. Kinsey was taking pity on him, as one provider to another. The task, small as it was, gave Lewis a satisfying sense of purpose. He felt better about leaving now when he knew he would not be returning empty-handed.
“Enjoy your dinner, everyone,” he said. “Make sure Jilly isn’t late for church.” He drew her hand to his lips. “Until tomorrow, my love.”
Jilly did not release his hand at once, even though he had begun to draw his fingers back. The parting was necessary, but bitter so soon after their reunion. In the morning, they would be wed. He had to remind himself of this when his hand slipped free and Jilly’s went to her heart—a goodbye like that of two lovers who were to suffer a severance of great distance and time, not one night and only a few miles.
The boys and their father had already seated themselves at the table, eager for their simple repast. Mrs. Kinsey stood with saucepan and ladle in hand, waiting to dish up.
“Jilly, love, come on. We’re waiting for those bowls,” she said. “Mr. Kinsey, you cut the bread in the meantime, please.” She threw a quick glance at their guests. “You have a safe walkback to the village, Mr. Bradford, Miss Bradford. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Penelope replied, stepping out into the soft light of the fading day. “Lewis, we need to go. We have but an hour before the sun begins to set.”
Lewis withdrew from the house with great reluctance. The walk back, though equally beautiful, lacked the novelty of its first discovery and the anticipation of its outcome. At the inn, they ate a meal of more substance than that shared by the Kinseys, though Lewis couldn’t but think their togetherness would have made it more enjoyable.
First thing tomorrow, he would take Penelope to obtain a dress in the village for her to wear to the wedding, as the one she had used today was marred by dust and sweat from their outing. It was a nuisance, but—he had to admit—worth the joy of having her with him for his special day.
Come the night, he found he wasn’t tired at all, the afternoon rest having been sufficient, and the prospect of making Jillian his wife thrilling him into a state of eager restlessness.
He crept quietly down the passage and knocked on his sister’s door.
