The Wedding Promise Read online

  “You go ahead, Joe. If you can start today, that would be great.”

  “I can start right now,” he said cheerfully. “I just need to go back out to the truck.”

  Liza climbed up the steps to the first floor and Joe followed. When they reached the foyer, he slipped out the front door, leaving it ajar. “I’ll be right back with my tools.”

  “No problem,” Liza told him. She turned to Claire, who walked out of the kitchen to meet her.

  “It’s the roots, just like you thought,” Liza told her. “Aunt Elizabeth hadn’t taken care of it for a while, so it’s worse than usual. And the new water heater is blocking the trap or something. In short, the bill is going to be a whopper,” Liza concluded. “I don’t know. Sometimes, this inn seems like a disaster just waiting to happen. Sometimes I feel like the entire place is just about to fall down around me. . . .”

  Liza noticed the look on Claire’s face and realized someone had entered the inn and was standing right behind her.

  She heard a polite cough and felt her face flush.

  There was someone here, a potential guest perhaps, and here she was, going on and on about how the inn was a falling-down mess.

  Great marketing strategy.

  Claire sailed past the tongue-tied Liza with a smile. “Good morning. May I help you?” she asked in a warm, polite, and totally sane tone.

  “I’m looking for Mrs. Dunne . . . Elizabeth Dunne . . . Is she still here?”

  “Not any longer, dear,” Claire explained. “Elizabeth Dunne passed away a few months back, in February.”

  Liza felt relieved that Claire had stepped in to relay that news. It still pained her to tell anyone about her aunt’s passing. She took a calming breath and turned slowly.

  She saw a young woman in her early twenties, standing at the open door. The light breeze lifted the long hair that hung past her shoulders in gentle waves, a rich shade of auburn with golden streaks of blond. Natural highlights, Liza could see, not the kind from a beauty salon.

  Everything about her looked very natural and unstudied. She wore a flowered sundress and a dark blue sweater that complemented her wide blue eyes and dark brown lashes. A khaki green canvas bag was slung over one shoulder. It was big and battered enough to be a backpack but was probably a purse. She was very pretty, Liza thought; strikingly pretty, without a bit of makeup. And she didn’t even seem to realize it.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I knew her, a little. She was so nice. A really interesting person,” the young woman said sincerely. “Was she a relative of yours?” she asked Claire.

  “We weren’t related. Just friends. I’ve worked here a long time.” Claire turned to Liza. “This is Ms. Liza Martin, Elizabeth’s niece. She owns the inn now.”

  “Oh, you’re the new innkeeper?” The young woman looked at Liza, clearly cheered to learn that someone had taken over.

  Liza met the young woman’s gaze and smiled. “Yes, I am. Can I help you with something?”

  “I hope so. . . . I’d like to have my wedding here.” The girl smiled as if she’d just informed Liza she had won some sort of sweepstakes. The grand prize, in fact.

  When Liza didn’t immediately react, the girl looked at her curiously. “You do weddings here, don’t you?”

  Liza stared back, still dumbstruck. “You want to have your wedding here?”

  I’ve barely mastered serving breakfast, Liza nearly confessed.

  Before Liza could say more, Claire jumped into the conversation. “Oh, there have been some lovely weddings here. We even have pictures around somewhere. Such a romantic setting, especially in the summer. . . . Would anyone care for a cup of tea? I just put the kettle on.”

  “I’d like some tea,” the young woman said. “By the way, my name is Jennifer Bennet.”

  “Hello, Jennifer. Nice to meet you,” Liza said.

  “Nice to meet you, Jennifer. I’m Claire North,” the housekeeper introduced herself as she headed back to the kitchen. “Why don’t you two go into the sitting room. I’ll serve the tea in a minute.”

  Claire’s easy, gracious ways made Liza remember her own manners. “Please come in, Jennifer. We can talk more comfortably in here,” she added, leading the way to the large sitting room.

  Liza couldn’t imagine what she would say to this girl. Had she really come here hoping to plan her wedding? The idea was simply . . . impossible. But something in Jennifer Bennet’s gentle manner and hopeful expression made Liza reluctant to disappoint her.

  When they entered the sitting room, Jennifer slowly looked around, seeming pleased by what she saw. She settled on the chintz-covered sofa as Liza chose a nearby armchair.

  “It looks the same, almost exactly. Kyle will be glad to hear that,” Jennifer announced. “I mean, it’s been painted and all. But not that much has been changed.”

  “I haven’t changed much in these rooms so far,” Liza replied. Partly because she didn’t have the funds yet to redecorate. But also because there was something warm and familiar in the rooms just the way they were. Her aunt and uncle had both been artists and had exquisite taste and style.

  Liza assumed Kyle was Jennifer’s fiancé, but before she could ask, Jennifer smiled and pointed to the big bay window that framed a view of the ocean. “I remember those curtains, with the birds. They’re so pretty.”

  “My aunt designed them and made them herself. She was a wonder with a sewing machine.”

  The silk fringed curtains with their remarkable fabric had held up well. Liza had considered putting them away, as a memento, but it turned out that they had only needed a good cleaning to make the colors bright again. Liza was pleased to rehang them. The curtains seemed to carry some of Elizabeth’s vivacious spirit in their style.

  “When were you here last, Jennifer?” Liza asked, curious about how well the girl had known her aunt.

  “Oh, about six years ago, I guess,” Jennifer replied.

  The answer surprised Liza, but before she could ask more questions, Jennifer began to explain.

  “My boyfriend, Kyle, and I . . . Well, he’s my fiancé now,” Jennifer corrected herself. “We met on the beach just down the path, across the road from the inn. We were in high school. Kyle is a little older than me, two years. I’d seen him around school, but I never had the nerve to talk to him.

  “I came to the island for the day with some friends,” Jennifer continued, “just to hang out on the beach. I got bored and decided to take a walk, and there was Kyle. He was fly-fishing with his brother, but he said hello when I walked by and we started talking. He’d noticed me around school, too, and had been trying to meet me. He told me that later,” she added with a laugh. “We just hit it off, and we spent the rest of the day together. When we finally left the beach, we came up here, to the inn. Your aunt was so sweet. She brought us cold lemonade and cookies, and we sat up on the porch in the shade and talked to her for a long time.”

  Liza could see it all happening. Her aunt must have spotted the budding romance and decided to encourage it along.

  “She showed us some of her artwork,” Jennifer went on. “And when we finally left, she told us to come back and visit her. We did come back a few times. We liked to bike ride on the island or come to this beach. We started thinking of it as our beach,” she added. “We always stopped to say hello to your aunt. She told me once that she was sure Kyle and I were a perfect match and felt sure we’d get married someday,” Jennifer confided with a small smile. “I asked if we could get married here, at the inn, and I remember exactly what she did. She sat back and clapped her hands and said, ‘My dear, that would make my heart sing.’”

  Liza smiled. That was Aunt Elizabeth. Her heart could sing, quite beautifully. And she could make other hearts sing, too.

  Liza heard the rattle of china and flatware and saw Claire coming into the sitting room with a tray that held a teapot and cups and a dish with slices of fragrant lemon poppy-seed cake.

  Claire set the tray on the table. “The tea
has been steeping in the kitchen. I think it’s ready to pour.”

  “Thank you, Claire,” Liza said. “Would you like some tea and cake, Jennifer?”

  “Yes, please. I really shouldn’t have the cake, now that I need to shop for a wedding dress. But it looks delicious,” she admitted.

  “Oh, a small piece couldn’t hurt,” Liza assured her. She was grateful for the small break in the conversation. Talking about her aunt brought back memories. Liza did miss her.

  “So, you visited my aunt often while you were in high school but haven’t been back in a while?” Liza asked.

  “Around the time Kyle started college, we stopped coming to the island. Not enough time, I guess.” Jennifer shrugged. “But we never forgot this place. We always imagined having our wedding here someday. It’s just so special to us, almost . . . magical or something.” Jennifer’s bright eyes sparkled. “Your aunt told us the legend of the island, too.”

  Liza smiled ruefully, not at all surprised. “The legend, yes, of course. My aunt loved that story. I made her tell it almost every night when I was a little girl and stayed here during the summers.”

  Aunt Elizabeth never minded telling it over again—unlike some adults who balked at repeating a bedtime story—even though Liza knew it by heart and could have easily told it to herself.

  In the mid-1600s, English colonists came to the area and founded the town of Cape Light. During their second winter, a highly contagious illness ravaged the village. None of the usual cures, herbs, or even bleeding, could help, and most of those who became ill did not survive. The village authorities decided quarantine was necessary to control the outbreak. The sick were brought to the island, and very few of the colonists were brave enough or selfless enough to come out and help them.

  There would be weekly visits with food and water and other necessities but not much more than that. Sometimes storms washed out the land bridge and made it impossible to reach the island by boat. In the winter, the island was practically inaccessible to the villagers, even if they wanted to come.

  That winter was particularly brutal with ice storms and high snow. For months, no one could get to the island to visit the sick villagers, and no one believed they would survive. It was spring when a group from the town finally made it out to the island, bracing themselves for a grim sight. But the truth was even more shocking than they could have imagined. The quarantined islanders had not only survived the harsh winter but were restored to full health.

  They claimed that a group of very able, gentle people had come and nursed them through the winter. But no one could say exactly where those helping hands were from.

  Of course, they wanted to thank their rescuers. After they all returned to the mainland, some of the survivors traveled around, searching for the ones who had answered their prayers. But they could never find a nearby town or anyone who knew about the quarantine. Or who would admit to having gone to the island that winter.

  A number of the survivors concluded that they had been saved by the healing touch of angels disguised in human form. It was said that their spiritual healing presence could be felt and experienced on the island forever after. Those who believed even pointed to the shape of the island’s cliffs that jutted out like angels’ wings.

  The unnamed island became known as Angel Island, and locals still debated the truth of its history.

  “I heard different versions of the story growing up,” Jennifer said. “But your aunt made it sound so . . . convincing.”

  “Yes, she did.” Liza had to agree.

  “What do you think? Do you believe the legend?” Jennifer asked curiously.

  “I guess I’ve gone through phases, believing and not believing,” Liza said honestly. “Right now, I suppose I’m in an ‘anything’s possible’ stage,” she added with a smile.

  “Me, too. I do think that anything’s possible.” Jennifer’s expression became more serious. “Your aunt told us that when couples married on the island, the angels watched over them for the rest of their lives. She said the partnership is forever blessed and protected.”

  “I’ve never heard that before,” Liza admitted, “but it’s a lovely thought.” And romantic and spiritual, too, just like Elizabeth. Now that Liza knew her aunt had been in the picture, it made it even harder to refuse Jennifer’s request.

  But she couldn’t do a wedding here. There had to be some way to let the girl down easy. To make her see that, despite her lovely memories and daydreams, the inn in its present state would never live up to her fantasies.

  “It sounds as if you and Kyle are a perfect match,” Liza said sincerely. “I understand why the inn has such meaning for you, but I just don’t think it’s possible to do a wedding party here. Not at this time,” she quickly added.

  “But your helper . . . Claire . . . She just said that you do weddings.” Jennifer looked stunned and suddenly so sad.

  “I know she did. I think she meant that there were weddings here in the past—when my aunt and uncle ran the inn and were up to the task. But that was years ago. And I just took over in March,” she added.

  “Oh . . . I see.” Jennifer sighed and looked down at her hands a moment, twisting her diamond engagement ring on her finger—a sparkling round stone in a plain gold setting.

  She suddenly looked at Liza again. “Does that mean you haven’t had the opportunity to do a wedding? Or you just don’t want to do one? Because this isn’t going to be a very big wedding,” she continued. “Not big at all. Just our immediate family and a few friends. I mean, if you do any sort of parties here, it wouldn’t be much more complicated. And if you want to just try a wedding, it would be a good place to start.”

  Liza couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s persuasive manner and persistence. Jennifer had seemed a bit shy at the door but was clearly no pushover.

  “Frankly, I haven’t given weddings much thought, one way or the other,” Liza said honestly. “We have so much repair work to do. After my uncle died, my aunt wasn’t able to keep the inn up, and now we need some major renovations, inside and out.”

  “You seemed to be talking about that just before I came in. I overheard a little from the porch.”

  Liza’s face flushed, recalling her exact words—a disaster waiting to happen—but she tried to maintain a professional manner. “It’s not quite as bad as it sounded. I was feeling a little frustrated about something.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear,” Jennifer said quickly.

  “But the inn really is a work in progress,” Liza insisted.

  “That’s okay. As long as it’s presentable.”

  “Presentable?” Liza echoed. Jennifer nodded.

  Didn’t brides want to be married in picture-perfect, jawdroppingly beautiful sites? Like castles and chateaus? Vineyards and grand estates?

  The inn was far from that standard.

  Liza was starting to feel backed into a corner. No matter how many pitfalls she pointed out to having a wedding here, Jennifer had some solution.

  She decided to change the subject entirely.

  “So tell me a little about yourself, Jennifer. Are you in school?” Liza thought she looked about college age.

  “I just graduated,” Jennifer replied. “I went to Boston University. I grew up in Cape Light. My family still lives there. They didn’t want me to go too far away and it worked out fine.”

  “What did you study?”

  “I have a degree in education,” Jennifer said proudly, “but I decided to put off looking for a job until Kyle and I are married. Teaching jobs are so hard to find right now, and it seemed a lot to do along with planning the wedding.”

  “That would be a lot to handle.” Liza paused. They were back to the wedding again. No avoiding it. “Have you and your fiancé picked a date?”

  “We’d like to be married as soon as possible. In a month or so. Certainly by July.” Liza could see that Jennifer was watching her expression, waiting for her reaction. “Would that be a problem for you? I mea
n, it sounds as if you don’t have any other big parties planned here.”

  “No . . . I don’t . . . but that’s because I don’t do big parties,” Liza clarified, reminding herself of the fact again. “I mean, I don’t do them yet. And a month or so . . . well, that’s not much time to plan a wedding, don’t you think? I mean, for anyone to pull it together.”

  “That’s what my mother keeps telling me. If you need a bit longer, that would be all right. But not too much. I don’t want to have one of those long, drawn-out engagements. Kyle and I just want to be married. We don’t need to make a project out of it. We’re not that type of couple. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do.” Liza smiled at her. So often it seemed that couples—especially the brides—were so focused on the wedding day, planning it for a year or even two, that they forgot about the days after, the rest of their married lives together. But Jennifer seemed to have the right focus.

  “Is this the first place you’ve visited?” Liza asked curiously.

  “Yes, it is. And the last. I really don’t plan on visiting any place else. Honestly.” Jennifer’s expression was completely calm and certain, as if Liza had not just told her point-blank, several times, that she didn’t do weddings.

  “I thought brides liked to look around and compare their options. Maybe if you looked at some other inns or restaurants, you’d be surprised—and pleased,” Liza suggested.

  She had a feeling this inn would not seem nearly as appealing compared to other possibilities, local choices like the Cape Light Country Club or the Newburyport Yacht Club, both just a short distance away on the mainland.

  Jennifer sat back and smiled. “Oh, I don’t need to go through all that. It would be a waste of time. Kyle and I have our hearts set on the inn. We really do. It would mean so much to us. And we wouldn’t be fussy at all, I absolutely promise. The inn is so charming and unique. Even if it’s not in perfect condition, it really has character. Could you just please think about it, Liza?”