Saving Sabine

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

One night, a week before Christmas, Sabine sat with her younger cousin, Annie, in front of the fireplace. Sabine didn’t have as much to do with Annie as she’d like. Of course she saw her, and received letters, but she only usually saw her at Christmastime.

Annie had always been a quiet and shy soul. Joseph had really brought her out of her shell and they’d been happily married, and living a lean life at the church ever since. If anyone could understand her circumstances, it would be Annie.

After a long day of scouring the woods for the perfect fir, the magnificent tree sat in the sitting room covered in strings of popcorn, fruit and ribbons. Presents had begun to appear underneath the tree mysteriously, Sabine had placed her gifts for her parents underneath the tree while the family was eating lunch. Her mother had helped her choose a new gold watch for her father as his previous one had stopped working. For Jane, Sabine had embroidered the outline of Philip and Louis’ hands at birth, as well as her own hand at five, onto a piece of fabric. She had the outlines for years as she’d traced them when her brother’s had been born, and she’d decided to turn them into a gift. She was sure that her mother would appreciate it.

Many had dispersed for the evening, tired after walking all over the village wassailing. Wassailing was one of Sabine’s favourite things to do around Christmastime. Families would walk around their villages with a wassail bowl of hot, spiced ale. She loved cheering ‘Wassail!’ whenever the door opened. It meant ‘be well’. In return for the wassail, the people would give them money which they donated to the church for the poor. It was a long tradition to believe that the people who gave money would receive good luck for the year to come.

Only Sabine and Annie remained awake downstairs as they lethargically sipped tea and watched the fire as it engulfed one of the large logs that had been placed there to warm the house for the night.

“What did your father say when Joseph asked him for his permission to marry you?” Sabine asked quietly. Joseph was not a wealthy, nor a titled man, and definitely was not the kind of man that many noblemen wished their daughter’s to marry. She’d never heard the story of what happened, they’d only ever received the invitation to the marriage ceremony.

Annie’s brows furrowed as she looked at Sabine curiously. Her golden hair, the hair that she’d inherited from her mother, shone in the firelight. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity,” Sabine lied, shrugging her shoulders.

Annie pursed her lips. “Papa didn’t speak for a few moments, but then he gave Joseph his blessing to ask me. He knew Joseph made me happy, and that’s all he wanted for me,” she said, smiling.

Sabine set her teacup down and played with her long, blonde brain that hung over her shoulder. “So … even though he wasn’t wealthy, your father had no reservations?” she asked.

“Of course he had his reservations, he’s my father,” she laughed lightly. “And I am his youngest daughter. He worried for me that I was marrying too young but Joseph’s fortune, or lack thereof was never an issue.” She edged a little closer to Sabine on the settee. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” she whispered, so that nobody, if they were still awake, could hear.