Then the coffin made its descent and she placed the first handful of earth over the surface. A white-faced Stephen followed, glancing fiercely at those around them as though he would face down any threat and holding onto his wife’s hand as she clung to his arm. Others followed suit while she stood and watched the dirt splash onto the surface of the coffin with each handful.
She knew somewhere in the edge of her senses that others wept as they passed her and that her hand was taken, and that nods were exchanged and courtesies expressed. She still stood with Stephen and Katherine glancing at her worriedly, as the other ladies moved away from the graveside, as the gentlemen stood in silence around her, as the gravediggers pulled aside the ropes and began to replace the earth, as flowers were placed on the dirt. After that she remembered nothing.
* * * * * * *
Edwin Renwick, Marquess of Barrington, stood at the edge of the crowd, eyes skimming the outlaying areas and returning to their lodestone. He wondered where she found the black dress and veil so quickly to fit her short stature. It must have been left over from mourning her grandmother five years prior. She stood so still, holding her body stiffly while the clergyman spoke about Geoff. Again his eyes swept the area and returned to that small form. Over the years he had so seldom allowed himself the indulgence of observing closely his cousin’s wife. His best friend’s wife, Geoff’s wife.
He swept the area again, his eyes a stormy grey as she picked up a clot of dirt and dropped it on Geoff’s coffin. Others followed. All the years he had kept away from Ammie, Geoff, and Stephen piled up as the dirt was piling up on Geoff’s coffin. He would never have the time with Geoff. His gaze moved to Stephen, so like Geoff – tall, lanky, with Ammie’s black hair instead of Geoff’s brown, but with the Renwick gray eyes. As the line snaked closer to the family, Edwin felt the suffocating weight of the years and the disappointments sitting on his chest. When his hand released his portion of earth, the coffin was almost smothered. His eyes continued to move over the faces to assess risk and threat when a stray zephr moved through the warm humid air and brought with it the scent of the lilacs gracing the graveyard wall, causing his mind to lurch back to the summer of his seventeenth year when lightening struck.
She knew somewhere in the edge of her senses that others wept as they passed her and that her hand was taken, and that nods were exchanged and courtesies expressed. She still stood with Stephen and Katherine glancing at her worriedly, as the other ladies moved away from the graveside, as the gentlemen stood in silence around her, as the gravediggers pulled aside the ropes and began to replace the earth, as flowers were placed on the dirt. After that she remembered nothing.
* * * * * * *
Edwin Renwick, Marquess of Barrington, stood at the edge of the crowd, eyes skimming the outlaying areas and returning to their lodestone. He wondered where she found the black dress and veil so quickly to fit her short stature. It must have been left over from mourning her grandmother five years prior. She stood so still, holding her body stiffly while the clergyman spoke about Geoff. Again his eyes swept the area and returned to that small form. Over the years he had so seldom allowed himself the indulgence of observing closely his cousin’s wife. His best friend’s wife, Geoff’s wife.
He swept the area again, his eyes a stormy grey as she picked up a clot of dirt and dropped it on Geoff’s coffin. Others followed. All the years he had kept away from Ammie, Geoff, and Stephen piled up as the dirt was piling up on Geoff’s coffin. He would never have the time with Geoff. His gaze moved to Stephen, so like Geoff – tall, lanky, with Ammie’s black hair instead of Geoff’s brown, but with the Renwick gray eyes. As the line snaked closer to the family, Edwin felt the suffocating weight of the years and the disappointments sitting on his chest. When his hand released his portion of earth, the coffin was almost smothered. His eyes continued to move over the faces to assess risk and threat when a stray zephr moved through the warm humid air and brought with it the scent of the lilacs gracing the graveyard wall, causing his mind to lurch back to the summer of his seventeenth year when lightening struck.
