Whispers by Rosie Goodwin Page B

and Martha thought she looked truly beautiful. Almost like gentry.
    ‘Ah, just in time. Could you help me with these buttons?’
    ‘Of course I will.’ Martha crossed to do as she was bid and within seconds was saying playfully, ‘I think you must have put a bit of weight on since you finished this dress. I can scarce get the buttons to do up about your waist.’
    To her amazement, Grace rounded on her, her lovely blue eyes flashing. ‘I hope you won’t get saying anything so thoughtless as that in front of Bertie!’ she hissed.
    ‘O’ course I won’t, an’ I had no wish to cause offence,’ Martha stammered.
    Grace’s hand flew to her brow and she sighed. ‘Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to snap yer head off. Happen I’m just a bit nervous.’
    She dropped onto the chair and taking up the brush, Martha began to brush her hair. ‘It’s all right. I’ve heard it’s quite normal fer folks to be nervous on their weddin’ day.’ In no time at all she had fastened Grace’s long fine hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and now her sister lifted the second-hand bonnet she had bought from a stall in the market and put it on. It looked totally transformed now that Grace had covered it in tiny satin rosebuds and when she tied it beneath her chin, Martha sighed dreamily.
    ‘Oh, our Grace. Yer look truly beautiful,’ she breathed in a choky voice. Then side-by-side the sisters made their way down to the kitchen.
    Hal Tolley was there, dressed in his best outfit as they all were, along with Granny and Bertie, and they all looked at Grace admiringly.
    Granny was looking smart in a light grey gown she had bought from the pawn shop and altered, and over it she was wearing the Paisley shawl that Grace and Martha had bought for her the previous Christmas.
    Bertie’s eyes misted over as he viewed his bride-to-be. Taking her hands in his, he looked deeply into her eyes.
    ‘Right then, we’re not goin’ to let nothin ’ spoil today,’ he told Grace. ‘’Cos I know what a lucky fellow I am. Now – if everyone’s ready, I reckon we should be off.’
    The sun was riding high in a cloudless blue sky as they set off for the tiny church in Caldecote, and Martha found herself skipping happily ahead. The rest of the party still seemed somewhat subdued, however, although she had no idea why. The church was less than a mile as the crow flew, but Granny was puffing before they were halfway there. ‘Happen me head still thinks I’m nor but a lass, but me old legs are tellin’ me otherwise,’ she huffed.
    They had gone about halfway when they heard the sound of a horse and trap and glancing over their shoulders they saw Jimmy Weeks on his way to market. He winked at Martha cheekily, before turning his attention to Grace and Bertie. ‘Good luck to you two,’ he said, then shaking the reins he moved the horse on.
    ‘Cheeky young whippersnapper,’ snorted Granny, then wagging her finger at Martha she said warningly, ‘I hope you’re not up to no good wi’ that young ’un, me gel.’
    ‘Of course I’m not,’ Martha replied indignantly, and lifting her skirts she stalked ahead.
    The villagers in Caldecote called out their good wishes and greetings as the party passed, and soon Grace, clutching her posy nervously, and Bertie, were standing before the parson.
    The service seemed to be over in the blink of an eye and in no time at all they were all outside again.
    ‘It doesn’t seem right that there’s going to be no wedding meal,’ Martha sighed as they made their way back to Stonebridge House.
    ‘Happen we should just think ’usselves lucky that the Master allowed us time off fer the service,’ Granny retorted and they made the remainder of the journey in silence, although Martha was happy to see that Bertie and Grace walked hand-in-hand and seemed to be happy.
    They were nearing the house when Granny groaned and pointed ahead to where two carriages stood outside the front entrance. ‘Would you just look at