The Mysteries of Pendowar Hall (The Audacious Sisterhood of Smoke & Fire #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“D early beloved, we are gathered here together in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony…”

Diana’s heart drummed fast and thick as she and William stood, hands clasped, before Mr. Wainwright. Regal in his white surplice, the clergyman commandingly pronounced the opening lines of the marriage ceremony from the Book of Common Prayer .

The April morning sun shone in through the stained-glass windows, bathing the altar in its brilliant light. William looked impossibly handsome in his dark blue full-dress naval uniform embellished by gold epaulettes and cocked hat. His expression as he gazed down at Diana made her feel beautiful as well. And he had put the sentiment into words just before entering the church.

“Exquisite as a snowdrop, my love,” he had pronounced, taking in her new gown of white embroidered silk and her rosette-trimmed lace veil, “and I am the most fortunate man on Earth to have you as my bride.”

“I am the most fortunate woman to be your wife,” Diana had answered. For in the three months since his proposal, they had grown even closer.

Diana’s only regret was that her godmother could not be here. Two months ago, Diana, William, and Emma had traveled north to Yorkshire to pay Mrs. Phillips one last visit before she died. She had been too weak to rise from bed, but she’d been strong enough to enjoy their company, to wish Diana and William joy, and to thank Diana for all she had done while at Pendowar Hall. Although the truth had been painful to learn, it had meant the world to Mrs. Phillips to finally know what had really happened to her brother and his family.

The captain had told a partial truth to Mr. Beardsley and Mr. Wainwright, without revealing Ivy’s parentage—that Ivy had admitted she’d forged the suicide note in a fit of temper towards her employer, and that she’d argued with Sir Thomas that morning on the cliff before he had accidentally lost his footing and fallen to his death. Ivy’s death was portrayed as an accident as well, and the captain, wishing to spare her mother any further grief or humiliation, had remained mum about Ivy’s other heinous misdeeds. After the parish constable had issued a new verdict in the baronet’s death, Mr. Wainwright had approved the exhumation and removal of Sir Thomas’s body to his family plot in the churchyard, an event which had brought further peace to his sister, daughter, and nephew.

Mr. Wainwright’s voice drew Diana from her thoughts. She took in the beloved attendees standing beside her at the altar: her sister Athena, as maid of honor; Selena and Emma, her bridesmaids; and her brother, Damon, who had taken time off from his work in London to walk her down the aisle. On the other side, Lieutenant Commander Keating and two more of William’s fellow officers looked on with poise.

Diana glanced at the congregation. They had kept the guest list small, and her heart swelled as she took in every fond and familiar face. Mr. Emity was dapper and dignified. Mr. Nankervis looked quietly pleased. Mr. and Mrs. Trenowden beamed. Mrs. Gwynn, who wore a mourning veil, sat teary-eyed, her lips trembling.

“Therefore,” Mr. Wainwright was saying, “if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.” He glanced up from his book and paused .

To Diana’s joy, no impediment existed to prevent her union to the captain. Their hearts were knit together and would be always. They exchanged vows and rings. When Mr. Wainwright pronounced them man and wife and told William he may kiss the bride, the wedded couple came together in an embrace so sweet and fervent, it drew laughter and applause.

Afterwards, in the churchyard, Emma placed her bouquet of flowers on the newly erected grave of her father. A fresh spring breeze blew off the sea, infusing the air with its briny tang. The foxgloves and bluebells edging the yard nodded their heads as if in benediction of the ceremony that had just been performed.

Across the way, in a lovely spot beneath shady elms, a new play area was being constructed on William’s orders, in memory of his aunt Sylvia and cousin Robert, and as envisioned by that boy’s father.

In the church courtyard, while the captain conversed with his friends, Diana stood beneath the giant yew with Damon. Tall and handsome in his black clerical garb, he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“My heartiest congratulations, Lady Fallbrook.”

“Thank you, Damon.” Diana beamed, so blissful that she wondered if what had just passed was real or a dream. “It means so much to me that you came.”

“I would not have missed your wedding for anything,” insisted he.

“Sometimes I think, What if Mrs. Phillips had not asked me to come to Pendowar Hall? William and I would never have met.”

“God has a way of bringing us to the people we are meant to meet.”

“I believe you are right.”

“Diana.” Damon’s expression grew solemn as he took one of Diana’s gloved hands in his. “Ever since you shared what happened that awful day at sea, it has made me shudder to think how close we came to losing you.”

She bit her lip. “Perhaps I should not have told you?”

“I’m glad you told me. I want to know everything that happens to you… and matters to you.” He let out a contrite sigh. “But it has opened my eyes to how remiss I have been. For the past few years, I have buried myself so deeply in my work, I have ignored my own family. If you had died that day, Diana, if we had never had a chance to speak again, my guilt would have haunted me forever.”

“You have nothing to feel guilty about, brother dear.” Diana had lived far too long with guilt and knew how corrosive it could be. “I admire your commitment to your congregation. I’m glad it brings you joy. You’re here now and I’m thankful for it.”

“I promise to be a more regular correspondent in the future. I love you, Diana.”

“I love you too.”

They exchanged a warm embrace.

As Damon moved off to speak to his friend Mr. Wainwright, Diana’s sisters darted up before her, looking especially pretty in their matching white bridesmaid gowns.

“I adore your captain,” Athena pronounced, brushing back an auburn curl that had escaped the confines of her upswept coiffure. “I can see why you fell in love with him.”

“William is the sun and the moon to me,” Diana admitted.

“And he is such a generous man!” Selena, a couple of inches shorter than Diana and Athena, had impulsively tucked a white camellia into her dark-blonde tresses. “We can never thank him enough for all he’s done for us.”

On their recent trip to Yorkshire to see Mrs. Phillips, William had made a point of visiting the property Athena had recommended as the ideal venue for a girls’ school. Thorndale Manor, on the outskirts of a village called Darkmoor Bridge, had been on the market for four months without a single offer. The owner had just lowered the price and the captain, believing in Athena and Selena’s proposal and considering the estate to be a sound investment, had purchased it on sight and given them a freehold to live there in perpetuity.

Athena and Selena, over the moon, had quit their posts as governesses and had just moved in to Thorndale Manor, where they would soon begin preparations for their future school.

“We are determined to make it a wholesome and nurturing environment where young girls can both learn and thrive,” Athena declared fervently.

“It will be our life’s work,” Selena agreed, “and I can think of nothing more rewarding.”

A part of Diana’s being was envious of her sisters’ new vocation—it was an enterprise they had discussed for years and had looked forward to pursuing together. But she reminded herself, she would still keep her finger in the educational world. She would oversee Emma’s lessons for some years to come. She and William had hired a teacher to hold classes for local girls on weekday mornings in the Sunday School room at the village church, which Diana would oversee in between her duties managing the Pendowar Hall estate when he was at sea. And she had offered to help her sisters plan the curriculum for their new school and would provide whatever advice or assistance she could from afar. It wasn’t the same as running the school with them, but it was the next best thing.

“The house is almost everything we could have wished for,” Athena remarked with glee. “The previous owner left many of the furnishings, as he apparently moved to a much smaller place. Most of the servants have agreed to stay on and they seem to be good people. We are fortunate that your captain offered to pay their salaries for now.”

“Hopefully, we’ll be able to pay them ourselves when the new term begins in September,” Selena added. “When we get back, we’ll begin advertising for pupils.”

“From what you’ve told me, Thorndale Manor is in such a desirable location, you will have your pick of students,” Diana enthused.

“We hope so.” Athena laughed. “Let us pray that prospective parents are not deterred by the strange history of the place.”

“What strange history? Oh, you mean, the story that a murderess once lived there?” Diana recalled Athena mentioning something about that in one of her letters.

“It’s not just a story. It’s a fact. Some years ago, the nineteen-year-old daughter of the family who owned Thorndale Manor was convicted of murdering her betrothed, and she was hung at York Prison.”

“Oh! How awful.” Diana considered the implications of this. “Did the murder occur at Thorndale Manor?”

“No, at a neighboring estate,” replied Selena.

“Well, you said it happened years ago. Thorndale Manor is under new ownership now. Most people, I believe, will see it as an intriguing piece of the house’s history.”

“That is our belief as well.” Athena hesitated. “Although there is one thing that has us a bit… disconcerted.”

“What is that?” Diana asked.

Athena lowered her voice dramatically. “They say the ghost of the murderess haunts Thorndale Manor.”

“Oh!” Diana couldn’t stop her smile. “What rubbish.”

“I agree!” Selena cried. “Every manor house in England seems to have a legend about a ghost. We didn’t give it a second thought until…”

Diana eyed her sister questioningly. “Until…?”

Selena glanced at Athena, who gave her a silent nod as if to say, go ahead . “The night after we moved in to Thorndale Manor, we were walking down a hall when the strangest feeling came over us,” Selena explained.

“What kind of feeling?” Diana asked.

“We sensed a sudden coldness in the air.” Athena’s shudder seemed involuntary. “And… a presence. It was as if someone else we re there, even though they couldn’t have been. We were completely on our own.”

Diana stared at them, then smiled again. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“No, honestly. We both sensed it,” Selena asserted.

Athena averted her gaze and let go another short laugh. “I know what you’ll say. It’s ridiculous. And it is . We heard the legend about a ghost, and we let our imaginations run away with us.”

Diana took that in. “Perhaps so. But on the other hand… perhaps not.” She had thought or been told that exact same thing too many times over the past few months about her own conjectures and knew better now than to question such a feeling. “It might not be a ghost, but there may be something else afoot. And you know our old motto…”

Her sisters returned her smile. “Where there is smoke, there’s fire,” the threesome quoted in unison.

“Keep your eyes and ears open,” Diana suggested.

“Excellent advice,” Athena replied. “After all, we didn’t call ourselves the Sisterhood of Smoke and Fire for nothing!”

“We should resurrect that old sisterhood,” Selena mused, “but this time with a prefix.”

“A prefix?” Diana glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“Everything you accomplished here at Pendowar Hall, Diana, was done with such a bold and fearless disregard for risk. We must honor that and follow in your footsteps. Henceforth, I say we call ourselves the Audacious Sisterhood of Smoke and Fire.”

“I love it,” Athena cried.

The three women wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders in a circle, foreheads touching in a communion of spirits. “To the Audacious Sisterhood of Smoke and Fire,” Diana said. “May we ever seek the truth and never back down.”

“Hear, hear!” her sisters cried.

After which, they embraced each other while laughing.

Another hearty, familiar laugh caught Diana’s ears, diverting her attention. Glancing across the churchyard, she caught sight of her new husband, and her heart swelled with love and pride. He was an amazing man. She could only count her lucky stars that fortune had showered such blessings upon her, and that he loved her as much as she loved him.

The thought, however, that he would soon be obliged to return to duty caused a sudden, wistful surge to rise in her chest.

“Diana? What is it?” Athena inquired.

“I’m just remembering how short my time is with my husband.” Diana blinked back burgeoning tears. “His ship sails a fortnight after we return from our honeymoon.”

“I’m so sorry! But,” Athena reassured her, “you will have much to occupy you as the new mistress of Pendowar Hall.”

“And who knows?” Selena smiled. “By the time the captain returns, you may be busy with a new baby.”

Diana’s cheeks warmed. “I pray that we are so blessed.” Another thought occurred to her. “Oh! How shall I bear it? You are both so dear to me, yet you live at practically the opposite end of England.”

“We shall have to make annual visits,” replied Athena. “Alternately, you can come to see us, and we shall come to see you.”

“An excellent notion!” agreed Selena.

After a sumptuous wedding breakfast in the dining room at Pendowar Hall, Diana and William descended the stairs in their going-away attire.

“How I shall miss you!” Emma threw her arms around Diana.

“Promise me you will practice your reading and writing, my darling Emma,” Diana said, returning the embrace before pulling back smiling into Emma’s eyes. “And draw, paint, and sculpt to your heart’s content.”

“I shall,” Emma vowed .

“Be good while we are gone,” remarked William. “And stay away from Smuggler’s Cave!”

At the mention of that lonely place, a shiver raced down Diana’s spine. “Yes, do,” she cautioned. “Especially at high tide.”

Diana’s siblings and the small, gathered crowd showered the newlyweds with flower petals as they made their way to the waiting carriage. Inside the coach that would take them on the first leg of their journey to Portsmouth, where they would embark on a ship to Italy, the captain removed his hat and took Diana in his arms.

“I can hardly wait to show you Rome and Florence,” he murmured against her ear.

“I look forward to seeing them with you.” Diana, who had never left England, was excited by the prospects before them.

“I wish we had more time. A month abroad is not long enough.”

“It will have to do.”

“It pains me to think that the moment we get back from Italy, I must leave again.”

“If only we could spend every day of the rest of our lives together.”

“If only. This is the first time I have contemplated a sea voyage with regret. But I will treasure every minute of shore leave when it comes. And you will do a magnificent job running Pendowar Hall in my absence.”

“I hope so. I have so many worries.”

“Such as?”

“How will the staff regard me now that I am no longer an employee, but the lady of the manor? What about the tenants? You have been so steadfast in handling their needs. Will I be up to the task?”

He tenderly gazed into her eyes. “You will. Your good sense and compassion will guide you. You have far more intelligence and skill, my darling, than you give yourself credit for.”

Diana believed that now. Finally, she understood what Mrs. Phillips, Mr. Emity, and William had been trying to tell her. Yes, at Pendowar Hall, she had managed to avenge an evil, reveal a truth to a dying woman, help a struggling girl, and restore faith and a sense of honor to a gallant man. And yet, even if Diana had not done any of that, her worth, she now knew, was not determined by her accomplishments, her perceived failures, or by what others thought of her. She was worthy for simply being herself, a unique human being.

She had made a mistake when she had been a child, but it was time to forgive herself—and to forgive anyone who had ever hurt or wronged her. In so doing, a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She had sometimes struggled, but she’d had parents and a godmother who had adored her. Two sisters and a brother who were incredibly dear to her. An occupation that had been fulfilling and brought her joy. A home in Derbyshire. And now a new home and future with a wonderful man whom she loved with all her heart. She was not perfect—no one was—but going forward, she would hold her head high and take modest pride in the person she was—and was becoming.

“I shall write to you every day, my darling,” William promised.

“I shall do the same.”

“Every time I put pen to paper or read your communications, I will see your beloved face in my mind. And I will hear your voice.”

“It will be as though you are here beside me, instead of thousands of miles away.”

“Yes. We will be united across time and space…”

“…in words and thought.”

“We have done it before,” he pointed out softly.

“Yes, we have.”

He cradled her cheek in his hand. “Oh, how I love you, my dearest wife.”

“I love you more than words can say.”

William brought his lips to hers. As the coach carried them onward, they shared kisses imbued with all the tender affection in their hearts.

Each kiss was a promise for the future, a future so bright, it was certain to rival the very stars in the heavens.