The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter (70 page)

“He should be happy that they’re over now,” Mrs. Kingston said, settling at the table but raising a hand to decline Mercy’s offer of tea. “I shouldn’t detain Mr. Herrick from his duties for too long.”

“Would he care to come inside?”

“He brought along a book to occupy himself. He orders them from a German bookseller in London. How was your visit with Mr. Langford Saturday?”

Mercy pulled out the opposite chair. The mixture of resignation and sadness in her expression leached all youthfulness from her face. “If it weren’t for Thomas, there wouldn’t have been two words exchanged between us.”

Reaching across the table to pat her hand, Mrs. Kingston soothed, “There, there now. You mustn’t give up hope.”

“But the plan didn’t work, and I’ve allowed you to waste all of that money.”

“The plan has not run its course, dear child.”

Now anxiety flooded her hazel eyes. “Please don’t ask me to start all over again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mrs. Kingston replied with a shake of the head. “Now we must allow Mr. Langford the opportunity to
miss
you. And he will, my young friend. Of course if he’s the stubborn sort, it may take some time. But patience is a virtue, is it not?”

“But how do you know—”

“That he will miss you? For the same reason that widowers tend to remarry much sooner than widows. No house seems emptier to a man than one in which a woman’s presence has been felt but is no longer. All that is required of you now, Mercy Sanders, is to step back and allow that to happen. Don’t catch his eye while you sing in front of your church. If he speaks to you, be polite, but then excuse yourself.”

Some of the hopelessness left the girl’s expression. “When you speak like that, Mrs. Kingston, I believe almost anything is possible.”

“But of course it is, dear. All a woman with any sense needs is a plan. Just look at the squire and me. While your plan had to be altered to fit the circumstance, it is still a good one. By the way, you’ll remember your promise to sing at my wedding, won’t you?”

“I will be happy to,” Mercy replied with a smile.

“Good enough!” Mrs. Kingston pushed out her chair and got to her feet before the girl could hurry around to assist her. “And now I mustn’t keep Mr. Herrick waiting. Do let me know when Mr. Langford shows any sign of progress, dear.”

“I will, thank you.” At the door, Mercy gave her a quick embrace. “God is so good to give me a friend like you.”

“Oh, come now,” Mrs. Kingston said brusquely to hide her pleasure in the compliment. On her way to the gate, she prayed silently,
You heard her, Father. She’s had so little hope in her life, and she’s grateful to both of us for giving her some. We can’t cause such a good-hearted girl to lose that hope, can we?

Chapter 40

“Papa asked me to apologize for his not being here,” Elizabeth told Julia after answering the vicarage door herself on the Friday morning of November eleventh. “He was called away on urgent business soon after Laurel left for school.”

“Oh dear. I hope no one is gravely ill.”

“I’m not sure. All he said was that he had to hurry and wouldn’t be back until very late. But do come in.”

“Why don’t I come back some other time?” Julia asked. With the wedding less than a month away, Andrew had asked her to look over the two spare bedrooms that would belong to her children to determine if any furnishings would be needed from the
Larkspur
. “I shouldn’t hinder your work.”

“Oh, but I’ve been working hard all morning. A break would be nice. I’ll even see about the rooms with you. Some of the furniture here was built around the time of the Stonehenge, so we may need to test it for sturdiness.”

“I would appreciate your help,” Julia said, smiling as they started for the staircase. “But you aren’t suggesting we jump on beds, are you?”

“Haven’t you always wanted to?” the girl returned with a glint of humor in her eyes.

“I purged myself of that desire long ago.” She shrugged at Elizabeth’s curious look. “I had an indulgent nanny.”

“Really? I can’t imagine any nanny allowing that.”

“Well, it was gin she was indulgent with, so she wasn’t aware of it at the time.”

Elizabeth’s laugh rang along the upstairs corridor as they reached the first spare bedroom and devoted their energies to taking inventory. It took less than twenty minutes to look over both rooms, so Julia felt relieved that she had not detained Elizabeth from her work for too long. But when it came time to leave, the girl pressed her into staying a little longer. “I’m afraid I’m in need of your counsel again,” she admitted.

They settled into the parlor and chatted idly until Dora brought tea and shortbread. When the door closed after the maid, Elizabeth said, “I’m not sure if Papa has told you, but Jonathan has been allowed to call twice and has had supper with us once.”

“It’s so good to see that your father has changed his opinion of him,” Julia told her, smiling. “I confess I wondered if I would ever see the day this would happen.”

“As did I. But even so, Papa hasn’t allowed us a minute alone together.”

“You understand why, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure that I do,” Elizabeth replied frankly. “I don’t think Papa realizes I’m not the infatuated girl I was in Cambridge. You’ve taught me how damaging it is to put someone on a pedestal, but I must confess it would be nice to have a conversation of some length without my father listening in. And surely Jonathan has proved himself trustworthy.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of doubting your maturity, Elizabeth. Or even Mr. Raleigh’s trustworthiness.”

With a searching look at Julia, the girl leaned forward in her chair and asked, “What has Papa told you? Please tell me.”

“Actually, he has not confided in me regarding his reason. But I believe I understand it.”

“What is it, Mrs. Hollis?”

It took Julia several seconds to arrange her thoughts so that they could be explained. She did not take young courtships lightly, for they became the foundations of either strong or disastrous marriages. “While your father has forgiven Mr. Raleigh, he wishes to prove a point to him.”

Elizabeth shook her head uncomprehendingly. “I beg your pardon?”

After sending up a quick prayer for the right words, Julia went on. “Your father obviously now believes Jonathan’s conversion to be real. But being in the ministry for so long, he’s aware that even decent people have been known to stray. All of us value more highly the things that were obtained at a great price. Your father, I believe, is making this courtship difficult so that by the time Mr. Raleigh does win your hand, the thought of losing what he worked so hard to gain would be repugnant to him.”

“In other words, he’s forcing Jonathan to pay penance? While preaching grace from the pulpit?”

“Grace is a wonderful thing, Elizabeth. But sometimes penance is as well. It teaches us that there are consequences to our actions. I daresay Mr. Raleigh has grown even more in character from it.”

They both took sips of tea in thoughtful silence, and then Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll try to be more patient with Papa.”

“You’re a wise young woman,” Julia said warmly.

“Wise? How can you say that? You see so deeply into things, while I’m still trying to understand the ripples on the surface.”

“Because you are wise enough to know the limitations of your experience. A teachable spirit is a blessing, Elizabeth. Had I one at your age, perhaps I could have saved myself some heartache.”

The girl’s brow drew with concern. “Are you happy now, Mrs. Hollis?”

Julia smiled. “Very much so.”

“I’m glad.” Brown eyes shining, Elizabeth said, “I look forward to addressing you as ‘mother,’ Mrs. Hollis, but you’ve actually mothered me for over a year now. I appreciate your good advice more than you can know.”

And I appreciate being allowed the opportunity to give it
, Julia thought as she walked down Church Lane a quarter of an hour later, breathing in crisp air touched faintly with the scent of ripe apples from the squire’s orchard. Above the roof of the
Larkspur
the brown and red Anwyl stood out in vast relief against a canvas of blue sky.
How sad it be would if no one ever asked
. By being allowed to point out some of the pitfalls she herself had stumbled into during the course of her three decades, she was able to redeem something of value from those mistakes.

At the crossroads she turned to the south and walked down to
Trumbles
. “Good morning, Mrs. Hollis!” Mr. Trumble paused from assembling an order for Mrs. Sykes, who turned to smile and echo the shopkeeper’s greeting.

“Good morning,” Julia greeted both. “Fine weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

“Fine indeed,” the churchwarden’s wife replied. “And the almanac says no snow until after Christmas, so your wedding day should be a lovely one.”

Mr. Trumble chuckled. “In just a short while we’ll have to get used to addressing her as Mrs. Phelps. I suppose you’re terrible busy making plans for the coming nauticals?”

“There is quite a bit to do,” Julia agreed. “But I’m blessed with some willing helpers.” Indeed her women lodgers, even Mrs. Durwin so recently returned from her honeymoon, and Mrs. Kingston, busy with her own wedding plans, acted as if Julia’s special day was the most important to them. The Worthy sisters had wanted to contribute as well. With their gnarled fingers they had spun nine yard lengths of silvery lace for trimming the ecru silk gown presently being assembled by Mrs. Ramsey.

“Well, what might I do for you today?” Mr. Trumble asked after Mrs. Sykes had bade them farewell and left the shop.

Julia produced the list drawn up by Mrs. Beemish. While there were certainly servants capable of shopping, she rather enjoyed taking care of it herself. For most of her life she had been unaware of the goods needed to keep a household properly supplied. Now she found it interesting to stay acquainted with the latest innovations in such things as tooth powder or silver polish.

“I’m afraid I’m out of vinegar until Monday,” the shopkeeper murmured, perusing the list. “I’ll have to send some over when it comes in. Shall I send the rest this afternoon?”

“Yes, thank you.” Glancing to her left, she spotted a familiar canvas sack propped against the postal counter. “I don’t suppose you’ve sorted any of tomorrow’s mail, have you?”

His walrus mustache spread over a grin. “Enough to know that there are three letters so far aimed for the
Larkspur
. Would you care for them now?”

They both knew that since Philip had left for school, the question was unnecessary. But as it obviously amused Mr. Trumble to feign ignorance of what her answer would be, Julia repeated her line from the oft-rehearsed script. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind.”

“Why, not at all, Mrs. Hollis,” he said, stepping from behind the counter.

She looked over the letters after they were handed to her. One was addressed in childish block letters to Gertie, another, bearing a London publisher’s return address, was for Miss Rawlins. She recognized Mr. Jensen’s handwriting on the one addressed to her. Efficient as always, he was likely confirming that he would be arriving in a little over two weeks as planned.

There was nothing from Philip, but as Mr. Jones was out making rounds now with mail that had come in yesterday, there was always a chance one would appear in the letter box this afternoon. “Thank you, Mr. Trumble,” she said and wished him good-day.

“And to yourself,” he replied from behind his counter again. Julia was turning to leave when he said, “By the way, Mrs. Hollis, I hope nothing’s wrong with any of the vicar’s family.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you, then?”

“Told me what, Mr. Trumble?”

After a second or two of apparently wondering if he should speak any further, he replied, “Well, I’m not supposed to be disgusting what folks get in their mail, but I believe it would be all right to tell you, seeing as how you’ll soon be married to the vicar. I was sortin’ through this batch earlier, after Mr. Jones had already left, and found a letter addressed to ‘Vicar of Gresham, Shropshire.’ That’s all it said except for the word
URGENT
underneath in big letters.”

“That’s odd. But if it were family, surely his name would have appeared on the envelope.”

Mr. Trumble slapped the countertop. “You know, I didn’t think about that. But being unsure if it could wait till tomorrow’s delivery, I had Rupert run it over to him.”

As Julia left the shop, she thought that Andrew’s letter surely had to be the reason he had left the vicarage in such a rush this morning. Andrew still had a mother, as well as five brothers and their families. But again, any of these would have known to include his name—unless the sender was in a frantic hurry. In that case, though, why not send a telegram? And if it
did
involve family, why wouldn’t Andrew have informed Elizabeth?

Whatever the problem—and obviously there was one—all she could do about it was pray on her way home,
Father, please be with Andrew and whoever is in need of his ministering
.