"Christine, darling, your garden is sublime," Margaret said whilst mixing her afternoon tea. "I do believe I will miss having afternoon tea here with you the most after the wedding."
"Now, Margaret-"
"Mother, Christine, please. It's about time for us to act like mother and daughter."
"Mother," Christine said with a smile, "Henry and I discussed the possibility of leaving the home as it is, for family to use at their leisure."
"Can Henry afford such a thing while also paying for the new grounds outside of Harlow?"
"He says there should be no problems. And think of it, Margaret-"
"Mother," she interjected.
"When we visit with grandchildren in the years to come, the space will surely benefit us." Margaret nodded and sipped quietly as Christine continued on about how much she adored her spot, and couldn't imagine giving it up in any place.
Margaret was Christine's most fervent advocate. Her father had met Margaret and her husband Mr. Millison in the local summer circles. After her father's death, Margaret always did was she could for her now daughter-in-law. The two were now almost inseparable. Christine cherished her mother-in-law more than any other of Henry's family.
Christine looked up at that moment from her tea and saw Henry leaning against the doorway, smiling at her.
"Margaret, did Henry enjoy the church we saw yesterday? I know there will be an immense amount of dressing up to do, but I did so enjoy the idea of having the ceremony there."
"My dear, I'm sure Henry would marry you in the attic if it pleased you."
"My mother does know me completely, doesn't she darling?" Margaret embraced and kissed her son after his interruption, as she did in every instance that the two greeted one another. Henry was her favorite, more sensible, well-mannered, and good-natured than his older brothers. All had gone to military service except for Henry, Margaret forbade it.
"Goodness damns the mother who doesn't know her own son," Margaret replied to him.
"To answer your question, darling fiancée, I enjoyed the church with all of my heart. This is why I had it booked for us this spring, just as you wished."
"Henry, dear, you didn't!" Christine exclaimed. "You are too incredible, my darling." Henry kissed her cheek and dismissed himself to the study to finish letters for business in London.
"Are we still to accompany you and father to the theater tonight, mother?"
"Yes, Henry. We leave at promptly at half past."
"Splendid," he replied and finally excused the women back to tea, gossip and wedding planning.
"Christine," Margaret started to say, "What does Henry say concerning the appearance of his brothers tonight?"
"I cannot dare to guess, I'm afraid. Since last we discussed it, he is excited for me to meet them at last."
"You will enjoy them, I'm sure. Andrew has Henry's kindness, and Johnathon, his father's knack for humor." Christine giggled at the way Margaret expressed Mr. Millison's character. Henry's father had been a large reason of why she adored his family so.
The first time she was reacquainted with Henry's family had been after their first ball together. The pair had gone back to Millison Grounds, Henry inviting her to enjoy some private time over tea. Millison Grounds was notorious for its grandeur, comparable with every aspect of the Millison life. Christine's host led her inside. Of course at the door he stopped and kissed her softly, as he always did when they were alone.
The grand staircase spiraled through the center of the house. The entry hallway led two ways at the staircase; to the left was the dining room and to the right a sitting room. "Is that you, Henry?" came from the right, and with a smile, he led his guest in the sitting room where Mr. and Mrs. Millison were seated.
"Mother, Father, I hope you will remember my childhood friend, Christine Vancamp." She was quickly embraced by Margaret while Henry shook his father's hand.
"Sweet, Christine, how beautiful you have become. I remember just yesterday sitting at tea and remembering the summers you and Henry spent together."
"Thank you, Mrs. Millison. They indeed are sweet memories," Christine replied as she bowed for Henry's father. "Mr. Millison, I did not believe your son when he said you hadn't aged a day. But now I do believe he was right all along!"
The four sat together reminiscing and catching up, asking if Mr. Vancamp would ever plan a visit, if Christine was enjoying her time in town. But soon it became too late, and Christine was to return. Margaret shared another embrace, saying she would call on her soon. Henry left to prepare a carriage, and Mr. Millison offered himself as entertainer while she waited.
"Miss Vancamp, I hope you know the opinion Henry has of you," he said.
"And what is that?"
"Of course, he deplores you, my dear," and Christine laughed. "Why else would he bring you to see old codgers like us?"
"You don't give yourself enough credit, sir."
"Yes, well, when you are as old as I am, dearest, you seem to have been given too much." He embraced Christine and kissed the top of her head as Henry returned. "You are always welcome here, Miss Vancamp."
Christine took Henry's arm and he led her out of the house. He was so happy with the outcome of the night. The way she charmed his parents was astonishing. But he adored her, especially as she kissed him outside the carriage, confessing how she longed to spend all night with him.
"One day, when I'm able to marry you properly, you will," he whispered and stroked her cheek.
"How long, Henry?" she asked. He shook his head and regretted deeply not being able to answer her. "It doesn't matter. I would wait forever." He pulled her close and they kissed again, one where Christine felt fully the love he had for her. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"At first light, my darling," he said, kissing her again and then helping her into the carriage. Christine held his hand through the window until the forward speed of the carriage separated them, both hearts full.
Christine remembered that night as she prepared for the theater. A knock at the door, she ushered to enter, revealed Henry. His blond hair, deep green eyes and wide smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Millison," he said as he walked toward her at the mirror.
"Now, Mr. Millison, we aren't married yet," she replied.
"Regrettably, Mrs. Millison," he whispered in her ear as he kissed the crook between her neck and shoulder.
"Darling, please let me finish before you ruin me," she playfully scolded with a giggle. He obliged and instead pulled out a long, black box and placed it in front of her. "Henry, dear," Christine exclaimed in surprise.
"Open it," he said and knelt down next her. His wide smile reappeared as the box opened and her eyes grew wide. A necklace crusted with diamonds along the chain, with a large sapphire pendant at the center, looked back at her. "This pendant," Henry said, "was given to my grandmother when Albert and Victoria gave us our family title. All the women of our family have worn this jewel."
"This should go to your mother, darling."
"She said you would say that," Henry chuckled. "And then she said, 'Henry if she doesn't feel worthy of it, then she only deserves it more.'" He took the box from her and stood, placing the necklace around her. When his hands lingered, she reached up and touched them. "You are Mrs. Millison, Christine." With that he kissed her again, and the two left to meet the carriage.