Both mothers shed joyful tears before the blessed young couple stepped out onto the flagstone pathway strewn with a carpet of wildflowers and lavender. Even the birds in the trees twittered their congratulations by singing in unison high above their heads. 

Fulwar’s parents strolled up next to them, equally revelling in such a merry occasion and brimming with compliments for the beautiful bride. Whilst Fulwar and Eliza chatted with their well-wishers, the groom’s brothers positioned themselves in a group to the side of the church door, making a dashing sight dressed in their elegantly cut suits and dapper top hats. They were oblivious, making small talk, to the many admiring glances being cast in their direction and were joined in their gathering by James Austen, who had travelled on purpose to support his friend on his special day.

Mrs Fowle was busy observing James and studying how he spoke with the girls. She was pleased with his manners and his willingness to prove himself a keen listener.

“I find James Austen a most likeable young man,” she chanced. “He will make an excellent catch for some lucky girl.”

Mrs Lloyd laughed out loud, understanding her sister’s intentions only too well. “You are impossible, do you know that? Will you never give up trying to match my daughters to every newcomer that passes by?” 

Fulwar and Eliza moved away from Kintbury and Enborne to start their new life together in the village of Elkstone in Gloucestershire. Fulwar had been presented with the living of St John the Evangelist by Lord Craven, and the newlyweds were excited at the prospect of living in their charming little rectory built from honey-coloured stone.