I simply had to write a note to myself in keeping up with all the news of our dear village.
Firstly, our dear Charlotte Watson has left us this month to wed her beau at his home town of Rushton. From thence she will reside in that fair village as mistress of her very own abode with new husband. May she find every happiness in the fortunate new life she has found herself.
I suppose dear diary that means her residence of "Honeysuckle Cottage", here in Amberleigh will now be vacant for a new tenant. How exciting that shall be for us. I do enjoy getting to know the new residents as they come in the village. The advantage of being married to a viscount is one gets to welcome so many newcomers with open arms and be the first to introduce them to the villagers. I love having those little tea parties with Elizabeth and the other talented ladies like our dear twins who live next to one another, they show an incomparable use of skilled needlework the like I have not seen for quite some years.
I must ask Hester for her design on that dainty tea cosy, she displayed on her fine china teapot Wednesday last. I did enjoy those scones and clotted cream.
Caroline, why do you always refer to food? Oh well it is all one craves in the later years of ones life...good tasting delicacies and a ball now and then or a tea party or recital.
OH, I almost forgot. What a transcendent evening we had at Carlisle House with Elizabeth and Charles hosting a magnificent affair. My there was standing room only, every villager was present I dare say. Miss Arden was unequalled in her ability with the harp, such delicate strums and thrums. I was transported to an other world. The intermission was very timely for we who were inclined for a syllabub with a taste of the subtle orange cream or lucky enough to find a ratafia cake to accompany it on the plate. My goodness Elizabeth was so lucky to find some of Mollands' Marzipan from London, for her guests to taste a wee morsel. Such sovereign perfection. After the dining we were entertained to an hour of exquisite dulcet tones from a delightful songbird Miss Callan, from London I understand. I feel our village and its surrounds were filled with an air of hush as she sang. So fortunate indeed.
And before I close my weeks murmurings, I must add that I am certain, it appears rather obvious now, in my humble opinion, that our very own Mary Thomas and her Rev Shapleigh are expecting their first child. I know something was decidedly rosey between them at our last ball at The Rose and Crown. I shall ask Elizabeth when she may acquiesce confirmation as I do not pretend to own the genuine confidance that she and Mary Thomas share. Very sweet news I dare say. I recall the Reverend Shapleigh looking very dapper last Tuesday striding about the high street with such elegant and joyful aplomb. It must be so.
Speaking of the ball, I was ever so right in spotting young Raife Tigheman blushing with those young ladies about him. It appears there is one in particular that has caught his eye. Perhaps that will afford wedding bells too, mayhap! Spring is in the air and love is all around.
The swallows tell us all that without ever asking a question.
Well time I closed off this missive. Time is away from me and I promised to look in to Old Mary on my way out for my walk today.