With Most Gentle Wishes - Chapter One

Author’s Note

My first piece of fictional writing is finally here! I am so excited to share With Most Gentle Wishes with you, the story of Mabel Harrington, a fiercely independent yet incredibly loyal young woman rekindling an old friendship with Henry Fairchild. Set in the late 1800s, this is a story not only of kindness and sincerity, but of nostalgia, misplaced priorities, and tangled emotions. Join us as we follow the correspondence which comes to shape the rhythms of two lives, as small, ordinary moments take on unexpected weight, and as affection, memory, and restraint blur into something far more complicated than either of them ever intended.

With Most Gentle Wishes,
Georgia Louise C.

Dear Henry,

I can only apologise for the delay in writing you. Emmeline was slow in sharing the news of your condition, as younger sisters so often are, inclined toward lighter anecdotes, and so I learned of it only this morning. I have been eager to write to you and to offer my deepest sympathies. I am not certain of the particulars of your illness, but I do hope you are not in great pain, and that you are in the care of a good doctor. Doctor Jameson is still working nearby, despite having relocated to Eamington, and often makes himself available to the village when he is needed. He has always been excellent in his practice and has access to an apothecary in the city. Perhaps he might be of some assistance in easing your condition.

Emmeline mentioned that you are confined to your bed. Is that so? I do hope you are at least able to see the gardens, as we are enjoying such a fine season of late. It must be dreadful, to be kept to one’s bed as summer begins to stir. My memories of you are full of grass-stained knees and muddy ankles after long days spent by the creek behind our mothers’ houses. Do you recall how your mother would ring her bell instead of calling for us, knowing we were too taken up with our play to hear her voice? She would hurry us inside for her special drink, which only now, as I write, do I realise was nothing more than a raspberry squash. I wonder whether you might pass along the recipe.

How are your family, Henry? I have not seen your mother since I left Whattley some two years ago. It did worry me so, leaving her behind so suddenly when you were yet to return to the village. I trusted the vicar would pay close attention to her. I do hope that he did. My own mother passed shortly after my departure, though I imagine you must know this, given your work at the florist. Do you still keep your position there? I was surprised not to see you at her memorial service, though I suppose one’s trade leaves little room for absence.

I must also apologise for my silence in recent years. Becoming a wife has proved altogether more occupying than I once imagined, and many responsibilities now rest upon me, far removed from the small duties our mothers once assigned us each Saturday. In case the news did not reach you, I married Arthur Harrington last year. You must know his father; he owned the village shop at the time you kept a paper round. Do you remember the morning you slipped into a puddle with the papers? He took great offence at the damage done to them and little notice of the graze upon your forehead, hauling you up by the collar, much to your mother’s distress. I still recall the colour rising in her cheeks as she firmly corrected him for laying a hand upon you at all.

Oh Henry, I do hope you understand. It was never my intention to fall quiet, nor to let the years and the duties of adulthood draw us apart. How I regret that life took me from your side, when once we were inseparable, wandering together through every corner of the village. Do let me know which flowers are most fitting for a gentleman taken unwell, and I shall see that a bouquet is sent to you without delay. And should there be anything else I might provide, do write, so that I may attend to it promptly.

With most gentle wishes,
Mabel Harrington
(or as you knew me, Mab Hawthorne)

If you wish to further immerse yourself in the world of Mabel and Henry, you can do so here, on my ever-growing Pinterest board.