Pain ripped through her. If it was not too late now, she had to put a stop to this madness. She shuddered as she thought of that word. Perhaps she was not exempt from the curse, after all. She could not have been sane to allow him to lure her to his bed when she was aware of the horror that could follow.
Pushing herself to her feet, Mariel said, “I must go out, Phipps. I will be back before dinner.”
“Lady Mariel, do—”
“I am fine,” she interrupted. “I will see you at dinner.”
Phipps wanted to follow her lady and urge her to be careful. She did not want her to have a mishap while so upset. Instead of chasing after Lady Mariel, she simply sat on the settee again. It would be a waste of time and breath to offer such warnings. She sighed and prayed her distraught lady would return to the Cloister safely.
Ian glanced up at the study doorway, astonished to see Mariel there. He had not expected her for several hours. When he saw the distress on her face, he rose and held out his arms. With a cry, she ran to him. He held her without asking why she wept.
“Hush, my love,” he murmured against her ear.
“Ian, I love you,” she gulped between harsh sobs. “I love you.” He urged her to sit on the sofa. Smoothing her dampened hair from her face, he watched as she tried to recompose her shattered self.
“I came to tell you that I cannot stay with you tonight.”
A swell of disappointment washed over him, and he tried to keep her from seeing it. He knew he had failed when he saw the pain in her eyes. Softly, he asked, “Why?”
“It’s Rosie.” During the short drive to Foxbridge, she had decided to use this excuse to serve in place of the truth. If only she could tell him … She could not! Trying to keep her voice calm, she said, “I have barely spent a minute with her in the past days. I love her, too. She needs me.”
He leaned against the back of the sofa and nestled her against him. As his fingers stroked the line of her arm, he whispered, “I have been selfish. I would like to have all your love for me.”
“I have enough for both of you.”
He chuckled. “That Rosie has learned. I do not want to be as jealous of you as she was when she first came to the Cloister.” He glanced at the mantelclock. “I have an appointment in two hours. Do you want to help me pass the time until then?” Heated kisses against her face accented his words.
With a gasp, she ripped herself out of his arms. “I—I can’t! I have to be back to the Cloister.”
“Why?” He rose to put his hand on her arm. He did not allow her to escape him.
Mariel stared up into his face and felt the yearning that never lessened. She wanted to know his loving again; to feel his lips touching her skin, searing it with the heat of their love; to caress him and hear his eager response to her fingertips moving along him in a spiral path.
Her feet moved to bring her close to him before she could form a thought. By the time she realized how foolish she was being, it was too late. His mouth had wooed hers into believing that this one time would be the last time she would risk their love by giving in to its rapture.
When he moved to latch the door and draw the drapes, she knew what she had from the beginning. She did not want to escape from the sweet web of love Ian had woven about her. Knowing that it would not last forever, she could not waste any of the time they had been given now. If later she rued the decision of this day, she would remember the enchantment of watching him slip off his dark coat while he walked toward her. The memory of his green eyes bright with passion would accompany the thought of his body pressing her into the soft cushions of the sofa.
All fear left her mind as she gave herself up to the love that knew no limits. Only later, when the soft glow of happiness had faded, did the tears fall to stain the fabric of the settee. When Ian could not comfort her, he ached for the pain within her. He did not ask her again why she acted this way, for she had devised too many stories to cover the truth. Until she opened her heart completely to him, he would not be able to help her heal the wounds festering deep in her heart.
When she left the parsonage half an hour before his meeting, he wondered if he had helped her or harmed her by professing his love for her. It was something he might never know.
Rosie was thrilled the next morning to have her beloved Mariel offer to take her for a ride. The young woman asked, “Why don’t you come, too, Phipps?”
“A ride? Where to, Lady Mariel?” She reached for the sugar bowl to sweeten her morning coffee.
Offhandedly, Mariel said, “I thought we would go to church.”
The older woman choked on her sip. She lowered her cup to the Wedgwood saucer and asked, “Do you think under the circumstances, my lady, that is a good idea?”
“I think it is a wonderful idea under the circumstances.” She turned to Rosie, who was planning excitedly what she would wear. “What you have on is fine, my dear. Now, you must remember that Ian is working today, so you cannot tease him as you normally do.”
“That won’t be as much fun!”
Mariel patted her hand as she picked up her own coffee cup. “After the service, I am sure you will have plenty of time to play with him. Just be quiet and make him and me proud of you.”
Phipps hid her concerns as the three of them finished breakfast and went to the garage to get the automobile. She said nothing while Lady Mariel chatted easily with Walter Collins. The man unplugged the vehicle from the generator and folded the cables neatly on the floor. He looked up to see Miss Phipps watching him. A strange expression crossed his face, but he was smiling when he turned to bid Lady Mariel a pleasant trip into the village.
The automobile drove smoothly along the steep road into the village. Mariel negotiated the dangerous corner at the bottom with ease. When they stopped in front of the white, clapboard church, the bell overhead was clanging in joyous abandon.
“That’s Tip Lyndell,” confided Rosie as Mariel lifted her from the vehicle. “He told me he gets to ring the bells every Sunday.”
“What a lucky lad!” she agreed. Taking the child’s hand in her gloved one, she led the way up the steps.
A welcoming sense of peace reached out for Mariel as the sexton unlocked the pew reserved for Lord Foxbridge and his family. She thanked Mr. Stadley, pretending they would not be foes in the argument over the textbooks on Tuesday evening.
“My pleasure, Lady Mariel.”
Her smile broadened as she noted the humor in his eyes. Despite the harsh words she often shared with the residents of this small town, she saw they understood that she cared deeply for the future of their children. The ties binding the Wythes to Foxbridge were older than she could imagine. She felt like a member of an extended family.
Phipps brushed invisible dust from the unrelieved black of her skirt. She handed Rosie a hymnal and sat in correct silence. Opening her own to the first song posted on the board at the right side of the altar, Mariel wondered if Phipps had ever fidgeted when she was a girl or if she had always exhibited such perfect behavior.
Hiding her smile, she told herself this was not the time to be plotting devilment to tease her companion. She handed Rosie a piece of candy and told her to chew it quietly. If she would behave during the service, Mariel promised her another. A door on the opposite side of the church opened. At the same time, the choir accompanied the organ in a rousing song to brighten the summer morning.
Mariel hoped no one could see the admiration she was unable to hide, as her eyes took in the transformation of Ian into the imposing Reverend Beckwith-Carter. A white surplice decorated with thick lace covered the dark suit he wore on calls to his parishioners. With his auburn hair and emerald eyes the only colors in his outfit, he seemed so different from the laughing, loving man who had caressed her and introduced her to paradise. Despite that, the familiar yearning to feel his arms around her suffused her with warmth.
As he greeted his congregation, Ian smiled. The church was full today. Continuing attendance meant he was serving t
he needs of these people. He hoped he could find someone willing to chair the committee for the annual summer fair. One of the ladies was sure to volunteer if he charmed her. When he first came to this small church, he would not have considered such tactics, but he learned quickly that politics played a part in his position. He forced those thoughts from his mind as he bent his head to lead the prayer.
He stumbled on a word and paused as he saw the bowed heads in the first pew to his left. This was the first time anyone had sat there since he assumed his duties in Foxbridge. Hastily, he continued with the supplication, before anyone could think he had done more than hesitate to catch his breath. His eyes remained on the Wythe pew. When Mariel peeked at him from under the wide brim of her picture hat, a slow smile spread across his face. Her eyes twinkled at him mischievously.
Easily recognizing the challenge she posed to him, Ian found himself caught up in an attempt to impress her. He ignored the pages in front of him on the altar as he spoke from his heart of the need for love in his congregation’s lives. Too often, he found his eyes straying to Mariel. Each time, he could see the love emblazoned on her face, which urged him to forsake his task and take her in his arms.
A flush brightened his cheeks as he finished his sermon in grand style. The organ resounded against the rafters as he gave a signal to the choir director. That he had touched more than Mariel with his words he discovered as the churchgoers enthusiastically joined in with the final hymn. He walked to the back of the church as he did each Sunday and spoke the benediction.
With the ease of habit, Phipps straightened Lady Mariel’s hat as they rose. The younger woman’s silky hair refused to allow the wide hat to stay in place. It continually slipped toward her right ear. She listened as Lady Mariel chatted with the people sitting behind them, and she wondered if the young woman had any idea how special her life was. That she was trying to ruin it with this latest escapade, which took her to the bed of the man who led this church, seemed insanity to her.
The gray-haired woman blanched. Such words could never be voiced in Foxbridge Cloister. The taint of the past haunted Lady Mariel. The dark-haired woman needed no reminder of that horrible night when her life was altered forever.
Mariel could not have guessed Phipps’s dark thoughts. Today her heart swelled with the joy of seeing Ian. Although she could not show the love she shared with him, being near him made her happy. She wondered if he would be able to find time tonight to hold her again. Although the horror continued to hover over her, she could not wait to drown it in the depths of their love.
“My, you are happy this morning,” crooned one of the spinster ladies who had sat behind them.
“I am,” she responded with a smile. “It’s been a very good summer so far. Such good weather for the crops, and I have such high expectations for the future of the school. All in all, it is a day for jubilation.”
The second lady could not restrain her nosiness. “We were quite surprised to see you here, my lady. It’s been so long since you and the lord joined us for services. It’s been since …”
Mariel interrupted her hastily. “The reverend shared your concerns about my laxness, so I thought I would come to see what all the adulation of his sermons was about. He did so well.” She smiled as she found she had changed the subject with ease. The two ladies, dressed in the most somber style of their day, began to discuss every detail of Reverend Beckwith-Carter’s sermon. Leaving them to their debate over some minuscule matter of scripture, Mariel walked with Phipps to the door of the church.
She waited while Ian spoke to the people in line ahead of her. As if they were the merest of acquaintances, Mariel offered him her hand. “I enjoyed the service, Reverend.” Her smile caressed him as she added more softly, “Truly inspiring.”
“I am glad, my lady.” The slight emphasis was heard only by her heart. “It is such a pleasure to see you here.”
“I am happy I came. Until now, I had not realized how much I missed these services.” When she realized others waited to speak to him, she added, “Would you take luncheon with us?”
“It would be an honor.”
She smiled with the love burgeoning in her heart. “We will wait for you by the automobile.”
“No. Why don’t you and Phipps go to the rectory? Mrs. Reed made lemonade this morning. She will be delighted to give you a glass.”
“Mrs. Reed is home?” Her voice faltered before she added, “I trust her sister is better.”
He nodded as he released her hands, which he had been holding publicly too long. She lowered her eyes and stepped away. Although he had hoped to find another way to tell her, there was no way to soften the truth that the sweet interlude was over. Even as he talked to other members of the congregation, he watched her walk slowly across the green, wavering in the heat. He understood the sorrow in her heart.
Rosie greeted Mrs. Reed with her usual enthusiasm. While the adults talked, she found her way to the kitchen table for a glass of lemonade accompanied by one of Mrs. Reed’s incomparable biscuits.
“I am glad you have been able to return,” said Phipps. She did not look at her lady, who would not be sharing her relief at the housekeeper’s returnend. “How is your sister?”
The thin woman held out two more glasses of lemonade. Frost clung to their sides. “She is doing quite well. A heart palpitation, but she understands what she must do to stay well.” She smiled. “I am happy to be back in my own home. I can tell the reverend missed me.”
“How?” asked Mariel before she could halt the question.
“He was very grateful for my cooking this morning.” She lost her smile as she said thoughtfully, “He asked for scrambled eggs, although he always has them poached.” With a shrug, she laughed, “Perhaps he tired of the way the church ladies served him his meals.”
Mariel smiled weakly and left the kitchen on a half-spoken excuse. Wandering to the front of the house, she opened the pocket doors of the drawing room opposite Ian’s study. She sat in the cool silence. That this joy would come to an end she had known from the beginning. It was just that she did not want it to be today. One more time she wanted to lie in Ian’s arms and lose herself in their love.
“I thought you might be here.”
She looked up to see the man she loved standing in the doorway. Without attempting a fake smile, she said, “I did not think you would mind.”
“Of course not.” He entered, but did not close the doors behind him. “Honey, we must talk.”
“I know.”
“Not here.”
She nodded her immediate understanding. Mrs. Reed was a wonderful housekeeper, but she could not be cured of her habit of listening at keyholes. “After lunch, we shall go for a walk. There are places in the gardens where we won’t be overheard.”
Taking her hands, he drew her to her feet and into his arms. “I love you, Mariel Wythe. More every day.”
“I love you.” Her smile was genuine as she added, “And I think you are the most wonderful preacher I have ever heard. You could woo the devil into renouncing his ways.”
He grinned at her exaggeration. “Not quite, but thank you for the compliment. You learn early to be charming when you have to talk your way out of punishments in the headmaster’s office.” Kissing her too quickly, he led her to the hallway.
Rosie bounced from one foot to the other when Ian offered to give her a ride to the Cloister in his buggy. The four of them would not fit in the automobile. Mrs. Reed waved to them as they all drove away, the electric vehicle in the lead so as not to frighten Ian’s horse.
Throughout the succulent meal, which was tasteless in Mariel’s mouth, he continued to tease Rosie in the way he knew she loved. Somehow, Mariel found herself responding to the conversation and laughing with the child. She wanted only to have the meal completed, so she could be alone with Ian.
She was surprised when Phipps said, “Why don’t you take Reverend Beckwith-Carter out and show him the roses, my lady?”
&nbs
p; “Me, too?” piped in Rosie.
“No,” said Phipps. “You must practice the piano this afternoon.”
“It’s Sunday!”
“I am quite aware of the day, young lady, but you skipped both Friday and Saturday. Lady Mariel will expect you to do well at your lesson tomorrow afternoon.” Taking the child by the hand, Phipps led her from the room.
Ian pushed back his chair. “Shall we?”
“I don’t think we have any choice. When Phipps gives commands in that tone of voice, I have learned to listen.”
“But not to obey?”
She grinned. “Not always.”
They went through the French doors in the dining room onto the stone terrace at the edge of the lawn. The gardens shimmered in the midday sun. Walking through the quiet, they could hear the soft song of the waves in the distance. The ever-present breeze puffed and faltered under the heat of the day.
Ian drew her into a rose-covered arbor. Within it, the power of the sun was diminished. When she sat on the narrow bench, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with the passion he could deny no longer.
“I wanted to send you a message when Mrs. Reed arrived last night, but I could not think of a way to phrase it.” He brushed her hair back from her cheeks.
“My love, there must be other places.”
“Name one!” she demanded bitterly. “Name one where we can have even a few minutes of privacy.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but we cannot let this destroy what we have found. This could be solved very easily in the three weeks it would take to post the banns.”
“No!” she stated firmly.
“Why do you resist every time I suggest marriage?” He forced her face to turn so he could see the emotions she could not control. “You love me. This is the easiest way to solve our dilemma. It was what I intended from the beginning.”
“From the beginning?”
Taking her by the shoulders, he snapped, “Do you think I would have made love to you otherwise? I thought then that you refused to marry me because you feared what we would share in our marriage bed. If I could prove to you how wonderful our love would be, I thought you would accept my proposal. But that is not what you fear, is it?”
Mariel Page 19
