Amber and Barnaby were up early the next morning to get the chores done before they left for the church and despite the fact that they had been getting on better over the previous weeks, they were ill at ease with each other, so it was a relief when it was time to go inside and get ready. Amber had bathed in the large tin bath in the washroom and washed her hair the night before, so once inside she dressed Charlotte in a pretty little dress that she had lovingly hand-smocked then left her to play in the kitchen with Socks before going upstairs to get ready. Barnaby was already in his room getting dressed and as she passed his bedroom door, she wondered what he would choose to wear. These days she seldom saw him in the smart outfits he had once worn when he was the master of Greenacres, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. Once the service was over, they would return home and get changed back into their work clothes and then everything would be just as it had been.

She quickly wriggled into the lovely silk underwear and petticoats her uncle had bought her to wear beneath her best gown before loosening her hair from its pins and brushing it until it shone and curled about her shoulders in gleaming golden waves. As she was getting herself into the dress she heard Farmer Jennings’ carriage rattle into the yard and suddenly she was all fingers and thumbs and the tiny buttons up the back of her dress seemed impossible to fasten. Thankfully she heard footsteps outside on the landing moments later and after tapping on the door Mrs Jennings, all done up in her Sunday best bonnet and gown, stuck her head around it.

‘Need any help, lass?’

‘Yes, please,’ Amber breathed. ‘These damn buttons just won’t do up.’

The woman chuckled as she hurried over to her and started to fasten them. ‘I reckon this is a bad case o’ pre-weddin’ nerves. But there, you’re all done, now turn around an’ let’s ’ave a good look at you.’

When Amber did as she was bid the old woman sighed with satisfaction as she swiped her work-worn hand across her eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier bride, lass. But there’s just one thing missin’. Wait there a minute,’ she urged as she quickly stepped out onto the landing. When she returned, Amber gasped at the sight of the beautiful posy she handed to her.

‘I got me ’usband to pick ’em fresh from the garden before we come,’ she told Amber. ‘No bride should be wi’out a posy!’

It consisted of tiny white roses and the stems had been tied with a white ribbon that complemented the white guipure lace on the neck of her gown.