Time passed in a happy blur for Sarah. Optimism for the future was an unfamiliar, heady feeling. Even the prospect of marrying Reginald and beginning a new life in Birmingham had been tinged with a strange sense of foreboding. Perhaps, she’d sensed his underlying cruelty.

Munro busied himself doing odd jobs that had been put off for a long while. He fixed the temperamental pump in the yard, mended a couple of cupboards with broken hinges and helped Giles clean out the coal bunker. “You two look like chimney sweeps,” she teased, but the easy relationship between them warmed her heart.

Giles at first seemed hesitant about the idea of Luke joining their little family.

“’Tis to be expected,” Munro told her. “He’ll come round.”

He asked for the boy’s help making a second pallet in the workroom for Luke. Giles was soon hammering away enthusiastically. “I always wanted a baby brother,” he kept saying.

She and Munro limited their contact to chaste kisses and cuddles. He returned to The Swan every evening, admitting the close quarters of the shop made it difficult to keep his hands to himself. However, he was determined to postpone their ultimate union until they were married. The waiting and wanting was unbearable.

The day after their conversation with Grove and Addison, the two men appeared in the shop. The handful of customers back away respectfully to allow them access to the counter. Sarah got the feeling everyone knew the reason for their visit.

“True to his word,” the cleric announced, brandishing a piece of paper, “Mr. Addison has procured your license in record time.”

The customers applauded, some slapping the grinning Giles on the back, confirming her suspicions the entire neighborhood was happy for them and knew of their plans for the boy.

Much to Munro’s sniggering amusement, the magnate blushed, “The bishop and I are old friends, as I mentioned.”

“This means you can be married as soon as you like,” Grove declared.

Everyone looked expectantly at Munro.

“The morrow sounds good to me.”

His wink sent tendrils of longing spiraling into Sarah’s womb. It would mean closing the shop for a day, but she had no intention of letting that detail get in the way of her happiness. “Me too,” she replied.

Munro returned to The Swan, glad the morrow would bring an end to his bachelor state. He had never craved a woman like he craved Sarah. She’d endured a difficult past. Unpleasant memories had a way of rearing their ugly heads when a body least expected it. Once Sarah was his, he’d be able to help her through those times.

He was also looking forward to the responsibilities that came with fostering two young boys. Who would have thought it? Munro Pendray—instant father. He paused in the doorway of the inn and inhaled the chilly air, aware he was taking on an awesome task. But Sarah had been abandoned as a bairn. She understood better than he did.

Richards hailed him. “I hear the date’s set for the morrow.”

Munro chuckled. “Aye. News travels fast.”

“Birmingham might be a growing town, but this is a close-knit community.”

“Will ye join me for a tankard of ale?” Munro asked. “I’ve things to discuss with ye.”

“I’ll fetch it through to the dining room.”

Minutes later, they sat across a scarred wooden table in the empty room.

“I expect thou’ll want a wedding feast served here?” Richards began. “We can do ploughman’s lunch, or—”

“Aye, that sounds fine, but first I need to talk about Luke.”

The innkeeper took a swig of his ale. “Luke?”

“Aye, is he indentured to ye?”

“No. I paid the orphanage to take him off their hands, but the understanding is he’ll go back there eventually. Growing lads become too expensive to feed and clothe.”

Munro resisted the urge to punch the fellow in the nose. He wondered how many other boys had been sent back to the orphanage when they became too costly to take care of. However, Richards was just a hard-working man facing the financial realities of running a demanding business. “Sarah and I want to foster him,” he explained. “We’ll recompense ye for yer outlay.”

The landlord took another swig of ale. “I thought thy intention was to move to Scotland.”

“We’ll take Luke with us. We can give him a better life.”

“True. But I’ll have to find another lad.”

It was on the tip of Munro’s tongue to offer to accompany him to the institution to arrange for another boy, but he might end up fostering every orphan in their care. “We’ll see ye dinna suffer in that regard.”

The landlord drummed his thick fingers on the table. “I’ll need Luke if I’m to cater a banquet for thee.”

Munro itched to tell the boy the good news this very moment. His pallet was ready. God only knew where he slept in the inn, probably in the stables. But he couldn’t just turn up back at the shop with him. Sarah was preparing for her wedding day. “We’ll tell him on the morrow.”

Rubbing his smooth chin like an old graybeard, Giles thoughtfully perused the three outfits Sarah had laid out on the bed after clearing the table.

She grew impatient. “What do you think?”

“The red.”

She exhaled. “I was hoping you’d choose that one. I was wearing it when I first met Munro.”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

“With the long-sleeved linen smock underneath the jacket,” she suggested. “And a linen coif, instead of a bonnet.”

He nodded. “I’m getting excited.”

Excitement didn’t begin to describe Sarah’s emotions. “I’ve got butterflies in my tummy.”

“My new cape will make me look like a gentleman,” he said.

It was a sudden reminder of her mother. “I wish Mama was still here to see us wed.”

“Mrs. Ward knew it would happen,” he reassured her.

“You’re too old for your years,” she quipped, tousling his hair. “Now, get some sleep. We’ve a big day ahead of us.”

He put his arms around her waist. “I love you,” he murmured before disappearing down the stairs.

Sarah had to sit on the edge of the bed as tears welled. Life had changed completely. It was difficult to understand how it had come about so rapidly. Loneliness, degradation, and resentment—the love of a good man had banished them all. Thank goodness he’d been persistent in the face of her rejection. Now, she had received a gift she’d despaired of ever having—the love of a child.

She undressed and hung all her clothes on the peg. After tomorrow, she’d have to find room for Munro’s belongings. Survival with Reginald in the cramped space had been achieved principally by avoiding him as much as possible. She was drawn to Munro like a moth to the flame and hoped they didn’t get on each other’s nerves once the magic wore off.

She snorted. That wasn’t likely to happen for many a year, if ever.

However, a solution to the dilemma of the shop had to be found sooner rather than later.

She climbed into bed alone for the last time. She’d found a great love, just like her mother, but she grieved that Mary Ward and Henry Marten had been denied the right to marry.