The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter (72 page)

BOOK: The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter
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“My girls will be worried about me,” Andrew replied. Dipping into his pocket for the cheque, he handed it out to the boy. “You can explain everything as well as I can. Be sure to give this to her, will you?”

“Is this a cheque?” the boy asked, studying the slip of paper.

“For the remainder of your tuition.”

Again Andrew found himself caught up in an exuberant embrace.
I thought boys his age didn’t like this sort of thing
, he thought but grinned his pleasure as his back was being pounded. Any misgivings he had entertained on the return train ride had completely vanished.

But by the following morning he realized Julia would be curious as to what had prompted him to leave for Worcester in such a hurry, so he left a little early for archery practice and stopped by the
Larkspur
. She greeted him in the hall, which was thankfully empty for a change, and pressed a quick kiss against his lips before saying a word.

“I take that to mean you’re not angry at me?” he said, smiling as his arms circled her waist. He received another kiss in reply, but then she stepped back from his arms at the sound of approaching footsteps in the main corridor.

“Shall I bring some tea, missus?” Sarah asked from the doorway.

“I can stay but a minute,” Andrew replied to Julia’s questioning look.

Julia thanked the maid anyway, and when she was gone, said, “Philip told me how unhappy he was.” Her emerald eyes filled. “I should have made him stay home after his last visit when I noticed his weight loss.”

“It’s not your fault, Julia. You gave him every chance to tell you what was wrong.”

“I only wish he had. He could have spared himself so much misery.”

Handing over his handkerchief, Andrew explained, “Well, in his eyes that was the same as running to his mother for protection. Not the sort of thing that a fourteen-year-old boy wants to be known for.”

She sighed. “I suppose I’ll never understand you men and your pride.”

“Just take it as a compliment, dear. We’re terrified that you women will find out how weak we really are and decide we’re not worth the trouble.”

“As if!” But then a smile lit her expression. “I’m terribly grateful to you, Andrew.”

“It’s no less than what you’ve done for Elizabeth.” Reluctantly he had to add, “And as much as I’d rather stay here and hope to collect another kiss, I assured Mr. Raleigh I would help him set up for practice on the green today. You’ll send Aleda on in a bit, won’t you?”

“Yes. And no doubt Philip will want to watch.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “But tell me … how did you know the extent of his unhappiness?”

“I received a letter from a former student who had struck up a friendship with him.”

“You did? Philip mentioned no letter to me.”

“No? Hmm—I gave it to him on the train.” But then Andrew understood. Obviously Philip had only shared with his mother that he had been homesick and miserable, sparing her any details of his mistreatment. And wisely so, for the episode was over and done with now, and she had put herself through enough self-recrimination. “Then let’s not mention it to him, shall we? A man likes to keep some things to himself.”

As he walked out toward the green, Andrew thought of the waste it was that Julia’s late husband had spent so little time with his children. If he had only understood the joy that a family could give a man, surely the gaming halls would have been less of an attraction. But he had seen it more than once during his ministry—men, and sometimes women, who trampled pure gold underfoot in their pursuit of garbage.
God, please strike me dead if I ever become that blind
, he prayed.

 

“Brush yourself off good now,” Seth instructed Thomas on Saturday noon at the back door of their cottage. Sawdust from work on the new stables clung to their clothes and skin and had even managed somehow to creep up under their caps into their hair. He slapped at the front of his coat and raised a cloud, which made him sneeze three times in rapid succession. As he wiped his watering eyes, he heard Thomas laugh.

“Oh, that amused you, did it?” Seth asked. The boy’s smile faded a little, uncertainty filling his large eyes. And then he shrieked as Seth lunged at him, caught him at the knees, and heaved him up over his shoulder upside-down like a sack. “This is a sure way to get the sawdust off a boy!” He held both feet tightly and trotted in a circle around the yard with the boy chuckling and bouncing against his back. “Do you find it so funny now?”

“Y-yes, sir!” Thomas replied in a spate of fresh giggles. Smiling, Seth swung him around and lowered him to his feet, then held him by the shoulders until his balance returned. The boy grinned and caught his breath, eyeing Seth as if torn between fear and the hope that he would be pounced upon again.

“I think we’re both a mite cleaner now,” Seth told him. He bent down to pick up the boy’s cap. As he straightened, he heard a noise in the house.

“What was that?” Thomas asked with wide eyes.

“You heard it too?”

“Someone’s in the kitchen.” Hope suddenly filled his expression, and he started for the door. Seth beat him to it.

“It’s not her,” he said with his hand upon the knob. He could not allow the boy to rush in and have his hopes crushed. However, they had both heard
something
. And it was Saturday. Had she possibly lost count?

“Something must have fallen, that’s all.” But as he opened the door, there was a definite sound of movement—too far away to be the pantry, so it had to have come from the kitchen. He stepped into the pantry with Thomas close on his heels when another sound hit his ears.

Pot-rack?

Seth bounded into the kitchen. The guinea stood in the middle of the table, preening his gray speckled feathers as if he had every right to be there.

“I’ll get the door, Father,” Thomas said from behind. Seth nodded and eased around the table so that he could chase the bird toward the back. With a flutter of wings and an indignant squawk, it jumped from its perch and raced into the pantry. Seth heard the door slam a second later, and then the boy came into the kitchen.

“She’s really not here,” he said in a small voice.

“I told you she wouldn’t be.” Seth took a can of tinned beef from the cupboard and injected some cheer into his voice. “But we’ll manage just fine. I bought some more ketchup yesterday, and we’ll make some sandwiches.”

“Perhaps we could invite her to have some with us? I could ride Lucy over and—”

“No, Thomas.” Seth shook his head. “We can’t do that.”

Thankfully, the boy was not given to whining or sulking and helped him set the table. As they ate their sandwiches in silence, Seth thought that he could not blame the boy for missing her. He missed her visits a little himself, but of course how could anyone with a half-eaten tinned beef and ketchup sandwich in hand
not
miss the home-cooked meals? That was the only reason, he told himself, that his heart had jumped in his chest just a little when he had heard the sound earlier in the kitchen.

The following day, Miss Sanders’ voice sounded especially pure, like a well-tuned instrument, as she sang “There Is a Fountain” at church. From the corner of his eye he could see how Thomas stared up at her with an enraptured little smile. He thought over the situation and decided that because the boy had grown so fond of her, it would be good to keep some casual contact. His conscience would be soothed as well by his showing her that even though there was no possibility of their having a future together, they could maintain a neighborly acquaintance. “Now remember,” he instructed Thomas in a low voice as they waited at the side of the yard after church. “You mustn’t ask her about cooking for us, or visiting or anything like that.”

“Yes, Father,” the boy replied obediently, in spite of the questioning look in his blue eyes.

Seth prompted himself as well.
If she even hints at marriage, I’ll change the subject and we’ll leave as soon as politely possible
.

Presently Miss Sanders emerged from the building. Thomas hurried over to greet her. “Good day, Miss Sanders!”

“Thomas! How good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too,” he replied, basking under her affectionate smile.

Her smile did not waver at Seth’s approach, but the expression in her hazel eyes became just a little more formal. “Mr. Langford. How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. And you?”

“Very well, thank you.” She nodded toward the lane, where Seth could see one of the older brothers seated at the reins of the Sanders wagon. “I’d best be going now.” With a parting smile for Seth and a touch of her hand upon Thomas’s shoulder, she walked on toward the wagon.

That came off better than I expected
, Seth thought as he hefted himself up in Soot’s saddle with Thomas at his side astride Lucy. She had kept her promise about not pursuing him after the seventh Saturday and even seemed to have no bitter feelings about it.

Later, as he and Thomas cleaned the kitchen after a dinner of fried eggs and porridge, the boy looked up from a bowl he was drying and said, “That’s the same so ng.” Seth blinked at him. “What?” “That song you were humming. It’s the same one Miss Sanders was singing this morning.” “Is it indeed?”
Means nothing
, he told himself.

Chapter 41

 

Saturday, November nineteenth, dawned cold but windless and sunny, perfect for setting up two targets and marking shooting lines on the village green. Prescott’s team, along with any spectators from that village, was due to arrive before ten o’clock. The time was very agreeable to Mr. Pool, for the tournament would likely take a couple of hours. Homemade signboards were propped in conspicuous places along the green, advertising that sandwiches and soup could be purchased at the
Bow and Fiddle
. Not to be outdone, Mr. Johnson planted his own signs next to Mr. Pool’s, touting the Scotch eggs, meat pies, and sweets available at his bakery.

And to add their contribution to the event, the Women’s Charity Society, of which Mrs. Kingston and Mrs. Durwin were members, had set up a hospitality table to provide free lemonade and samples of cheese donated from the squire’s factory. While Mr. Raleigh, Luke Smith, and Vicar Phelps directed members of the archery team in stance drills, villagers exchanged pleasantries and gossip. Miss Clark enlisted the four secondary school boys to carry thirty-six chairs from the town hall for the comfort of any elderly or infirmed spectators.

“You know, we graduated a year too soon,” Ben said to Philip while hooking the back of a chair from each elbow to bring outside. “First a merry-go-round and now archery!”

Philip caught up two more chairs in the same manner. “I’m so relieved to be back home, they could form a trapeze team and I wouldn’t be jealous.”

Sending a curious look at him, Ben asked, “It was that bad?”

“Awful.” He gave a feeble shrug because of the weight of the chairs. “But now that it’s over, I’m rather glad it happened. I had always dreamed of practicing medicine in a big hospital as my father did, but now I believe I’d like to move back here after university and work with Doctor Rhodes. He’s already mentioned wanting me to take over his practice when he’s no longer able to make calls.”

“That’s because you’ve already lived in the city, but I’ve never even seen it.”

“You don’t plan to settle here?”

Ben shook his head. “You can’t build big buildings in a village, my friend.”

A sadness rose up in Philip’s chest at the thought of Gresham without Ben. In spite of his desire to grow up and become a doctor, he also wished he could freeze days like this and return to them whenever he wished. He had never fully appreciated how quickly time passed. But just as the waters of the Bryce, which appeared deceptively motionless most days, the years were constantly flowing and would not return.

“Philip, are you coming?” Ben’s voice, from the doorway now, brought him out of his musings.

“Oh.” He started for the door again with the chairs still attached to his rapidly fatiguing arms. But his friend did not step aside.

“I don’t see how I can do this if you plan to stand there in the way all day,” Philip complained.

Ben’s expression became uncharacteristically sentimental. “No matter where we live, we’ll always be friends. Won’t we?”

“Friends to the end.” Philip grinned, his mood lightening at once. “And I would shake on that if I had any feeling left in my arms.”

BOOK: The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter
12.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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