“The evidence is in the cellar.” Edmund outlined what he had seen.
The vicar’s face grew long with dismay. “This is an outrage. When I heard the story that a previous vicar counted himself among the smugglers’ ranks, I had hoped it was untrue. Now...” He choked, unable to continue.
Patting her brother’s arm, Miss Fenwick said, “We must make sure it does not happen again.”
“That may be easier said than done,” Edmund said. “They need a place to hide their illicit cargo. Who knows how long they have been using the church? At least since we made it impossible for them to use the dower cottage at Meriweather Hall. All worked well for them until a section of the church’s roof fell in. They must have feared someone would check the cellar to make sure the joists could support a new roof.”
“So they set the church on fire,” Miss Fenwick said, looking from him to the cellar, “to hide that they had been using the cellar.”
“That is exactly what I was thinking.” He appreciated her acceptance of the facts.
Her brother remained less willing to see what was right in front of them. “But why would they burn this church? We have been discussing building a new church—”
“They could not take a chance that the decision would be made to fix up the old one instead.” Miss Fenwick’s face hardened. “But where will they go next? It could be anywhere.”
Miss Kightly gave a soft cry of fright and wobbled as if she were about to faint. Mr. Fenwick jumped to keep her from falling. He helped her back to her carriage where she could sit and recover her composure.
“I should go back with her,” Miss Fenwick said. “It appears that Gregory and I will be accepting your invitation to stay at Meriweather Hall.”
“For as long as you need to.” Both he and Lady Meriweather would be happy to have company in the huge house that would seem empty now that both his cousins were married to his two best friends, Jonathan Bradby and Charles Winthrop, the earl of Northbridge.
“Thank you. We will need to depend on your hospitality until we can live in the vicarage again. That must wait until after we have a church, of course.” She turned to go, then paused. “Before I go, I must ask you one question.”
“Certainly.”
“You are familiar with constructing buildings. Will you help us rebuild our church?”
She had no idea what she was asking. Overseeing the building of a church would require dozens of decisions each day when he could not make a single one.
“Please, say yes,” she went on. “We need your help.”
What could he say? That he had plans to go to London for the Season? That was not true. That he had to entertain Lady Meriweather? Miss Fenwick would know that was a lie. But he could not speak the truth. He had seen enough pity in his friends’ eyes. He did not want to see more, especially in her eyes. But she was right. He was the man for the task.
God, if this is what You want me to do, I will need Your help more than ever.
“All right,” he said. “I will try to do my best.”
Instantly, he wished he could retract his words. This was the first decision he had made in more than a year, and he feared it would prove to be as bad as the last one.
Copyright © 2014 by Jo Ann Ferguson
ISBN-13: 9781460327999
WOLF CREEK HOMECOMING
Copyright © 2014 by Penny Richards
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