The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter (36 page)

Dear Uncle Everet … I’ve completely lost my mind
, Jonathan thought, holding his pen above the page as he struggled for words.

“It’s not too late to back out,” he mumbled and entertained the thought of looking up the school board members and confessing that youthful impulsiveness had rendered him temporarily insane. Or better yet, asking Mr. Pool to procure a coach or carriage so that he could put Gresham to his back as soon as possible.

But then he would be giving up any chance, however slim, of winning Elizabeth back, which would prove to her—and her father—that his word was no better than it had been before.
How difficult can it be?
he asked himself. He’d sat under schoolmasters for most of his life, and they hadn’t appeared to be under any great strain.
Just a matter of organizing the lessons
. The members of the school board had informed him that he could avail himself of the school building at any time. He had only a few days to plan a schedule, but as long as he stayed a week or two ahead of the students, they would learn. It was like walking down a road after dark. If one could see to the edge of his lantern’s light, he could go on for miles.

He didn’t have to go miles—just until this Miss Clark was well again.

And you’re fond of children
. On second thought, he couldn’t recall any he actually had held a
conversation
with in the past five years besides Laurel Phelps. But one of his uncle’s solicitors had a threeyear-old, Hannah, whose lisping voice made everyone in the office chuckle whenever her mother brought her around.
And I gave her that paperweight
. It had been a cross-section of topaz stone that everyone who passed his desk would pause to admire. He hadn’t
had
to give it to her, which must prove he had a soft spot for children.

He was beginning to feel better about the whole idea and decided that as soon as he finished writing letters and had a quick lunch, he would go over to the school and prepare lessons.
Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might
he had read somewhere in the Scriptures. Ecclesiastes, he believed.

“I’ve just finished visiting the Clarks,” Andrew told Julia in the
Larkspur
’s library. He had asked to speak with her privately, but of course that was now impossible in light of their engagement. With Mrs. Kingston tending the flower garden out front and Mr. Herrick the vegetable garden in back, the best she could offer was the library with the door open wide so that anyone who passed down the corridor could see that they sat in chairs some two feet apart. “I suppose you’ve heard about Miss Clark’s pleurisy?”

“Yes,” Julia nodded. “So sad. Were you able to speak with her?”

“A little. They’re treating her with steam. If you’ve an abundance of mint in your kitchen garden, you may wish to send some over.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll see to that as soon as you leave.”

“Thank you.” He was studying her face now, as if trying to decide whether to say something.

“What is it, Andrew?” Julia asked.

A pained look came into his hazel eyes. “You haven’t heard the rest, have you?”

“About Miss Clark?”

“Jonathan Raleigh is in Gresham.”

“No …” Julia breathed. “Has he attempted to see Elizabeth?”

Andrew’s lips tightened. “Thank God she had the good sense to send him away. But the school board members apparently had something stronger than tea with their breakfast this morning. They’ve hired him as a temporary replacement for Miss Clark.”

“But they can’t do that—can they?”

“Apparently they can. We did elect them, you know.”

“But his morals …” Now it was Julia pressing her lips together. “I’ll not allow someone like that to teach Aleda and Grace, Andrew. Didn’t you tell them about that woman in Cambridge?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I was so vexed I can’t recall exactly
what
I told them, Julia. I was fairly certain that Laurel could overhear us, so I couldn’t go into too much detail.”

“You
will
tell them now, won’t you?”

“Yes … of course.”

The hesitancy in his reply made Julia suspect there was more to this than he had divulged so far. “Andrew?” she said. “What haven’t you told me?”

Andrew’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “Mr. Raleigh claims to have been led to Christ by his grandfather.”

“He has?” It took Julia a second to digest this bit of information. “And now he comes here to win back Elizabeth? How convenient. Surely you don’t believe him.”

“No … yes.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. But he had the audacity to bring up how the disciples eventually forgave the apostle Paul of his past. His grandfather has encouraged him to ground himself in the Word, and it’s quite obvious that he has been doing so.”

“Oh.” Julia was struck by how odd a picture they made, she and Andrew. They were discussing a young man’s conversion in somber tones that would have been better suited for a funeral parlor. “Could it be that he’s sincere, Andrew?”

“Not knowing that is what troubles me the most, Julia. As much as I tell myself he’s only acting sincere in the hopes of winning back Elizabeth’s affections, there is a part of me that believes him.” His expression darkened again. “But that doesn’t change my conviction that he’s totally unsuitable for Elizabeth. My daughter deserves better than a husband who’ll be comparing her to every strumpet who walked the streets of Cambridge.”

It was in that glum mood that he took his leave. Julia went to her office and attempted to tally last month’s receipts but gave up. She missed Philip terribly, and now there was Elizabeth to be concerned about, not to mention some anxiety about Mr. Raleigh becoming schoolmaster, however temporary the arrangement. If indeed the young man had become a Christian, that was wonderful news. But until she was convinced of that fact, she would not compromise her daughters’ welfare.
If Andrew can’t talk the board out of hiring him, I’ll sit in that classroom myself
.

Chapter 22

The next morning after having tea with Andrew, who still wore a long face, Julia walked to
Trumbles
to post the letter she’d penned to Philip last night. She had filled her letter with little tidbits of news about the lodgers, servants, and neighbors, avoiding any mention of their latest worries. There was not much to tell, with his having been away only three days now, but she was of the mind that the contents of a letter from home were not nearly so important as the overall message—that the receiver of the letter is loved and missed.

“Ah, a letter to young Philip, eh?” said Mr. Trumble, holding up the envelope to the window’s light. He had no timidity about reading the addresses of envelopes handed to him in his official role of postmaster.

Julia had once heard Ophelia Rhodes declare that if it weren’t for seals, Mr. Trumble would likely open the letter in front of the bearer and peruse its contents. But Mr. Trumble was such an engaging and affable fellow that no one really complained.

“Did you tell him that the merry-go-round was finished yesterday?” he asked.

Julia let out a sigh. How could she have forgotten, when her two daughters practically had to be tied to their chairs at breakfast in their haste to go to the school yard? “It didn’t even cross my mind, Mr. Trumble.”

“Ah well … then you’ll have some news for your next letter. Give him my warmest regrets, will you?”

Julia smiled at the man’s blunder and assured him that she would. Then she walked on to the school yard, where it seemed half the village children had assembled. Amazingly some of the older children, Aleda and Laurel included, had persuaded the younger ones to form a queue so that turns could be taken in an orderly fashion. Six children at a time would assemble on the merry-go-round, with the younger children holding on to its posts for dear life and older boys pushing until it went fast enough for them to jump on for a while. While squeals came from the blurred images of passengers, equally enthusiastic squeals and handclaps came from the children waiting their turns. Finally after about three minutes, the merry-go-round would slow to a halt, and the six disoriented children would weave their ways to the back of the queue, while others scrambled for seating on the contraption.

“You’ll stay and watch us, Mrs. Hollis?” Laurel called as she and Aleda prepared to board.

“I would love to,” she replied with a smile, moving over to sit at the top of the steps. It looked like great fun, and as Julia returned Grace’s wave, she wished she could be a child again—at least for this morning. Sometime later she heard a noise from behind her. She turned to look up over her shoulder.

“Excuse me,” said the young man standing in the doorway. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”

Of medium height and build, he was well-dressed in a gray frock coat, black trousers, and paisley silk cravat. His hair was as black as his trousers, with side whiskers extending only an inch below his ears. Dark lashes fringed eyes that were shades of gray and green. Julia needed no introduction and could see how Elizabeth could have fallen for such a person.
But only God sees the heart. Please help us to see it, too, Father, before Elizabeth gets hurt again
.

“You didn’t startle me, Mr. Raleigh.”

He gave her a searching look. “I’m sorry—you have me at a disadvantage.”

And I’m sure that’s a rarity for you
, Julia thought cynically. But she rose to her feet, ignoring the hand of assistance he offered. “My name is Julia Hollis.”

She was surprised to see recognition flood his eyes—and fear. “You’re engaged to marry Vicar Phelps?”

Before Julia could ask him how he had known that, he gestured in the direction of the
Bow and Fiddle
.

“The landlord’s wife …”

“Yes, of course.” He didn’t have to explain. “Has she informed you that I have two daughters who will be in your classroom?”
If Andrew hasn’t convinced the school board to send you packing before school begins
.

He looked out at the assemblage of children. “I wasn’t aware of that.” The fear seemed to intensify in his expression. Still, he motioned toward the door behind him. “Would you care to come inside, Mrs. Hollis? I’m sure there are things we should discuss.”

As Julia went through the door he held open for her, she grudgingly allowed him credit for not attempting to evade what promised to be an unpleasant conversation. Mr. Raleigh hurried to the desk, which was covered with papers and textbooks, pulled out the chair, and brought it over to a clear area near the blackboard. He waited until she had seated herself, then pulled out a smaller chair from the nearest student desk. There were larger chairs in the back rows, but apparently he didn’t think of that. He looked rather comical with his knees jutting up into the air. Julia would have smiled to herself if Mr. Raleigh had been anyone else.

It seemed he was waiting for her to speak, watching her cautiously with his gray-green eyes. When she declined to do so, he cleared his throat.

“I’m going to take for granted that you know everything about my past, Mrs. Hollis,” he said, avoiding her eyes now.

Such frankness in the face of obvious discomfort gave Julia still more reason to wonder about the young man. She had long held the opinion that he was a rogue with no conscience. And from what she had heard about such men, she knew that they were adept at evading accountability for their actions. “Only the part that concerns Elizabeth, Mr. Raleigh,” she replied.

He actually winced. “I see.”

“Can you understand how I would have reservations about your teaching my daughters or any other children here? A schoolmaster cannot help but flavor the lessons with his own morality … or lack thereof.”

“Yes,” he replied, nodding somberly. “I don’t know how I can reassure you, Mrs. Hollis. I assume that Vicar Phelps has told you I’ve become a believer.”

“He has.”

“But of course
anyone
can say that,” Mr. Raleigh said, voicing her very thoughts. He wrapped his arms around his raised knees, a posture that made him seem more a boy than a man of twenty-two. “Perhaps it was wrong for me to come here—I don’t know. It just seemed that God allowed everything to fall into place, especially with my being offered this position.”

There was such misery and confusion in his expression that Julia found her opinion of him softening in spite of her determination otherwise.
If this is all an act, he’s a very good actor
. “Mr. Raleigh,” she sighed. “I wish with all my heart to believe that you have found Christ, and that your commitment is real.”