The Vicar's Daughter

by Josi S. Kilpack

I found your letter in very good humor, and it was restorative of my own spirits. I addressed this letter as you suggested in order to be certain you knew how appreciated your thoughts were on my behalf. I believe I saw you a few days ago in town, coming from the apothecary shop with another young woman—perhaps the sister you referenced in your letter? Cassandra, I believe. Were you wearing a blue bonnet, by chance? I believe your sister’s bonnet was a straw chip with multicolored ribbons about the trim. Do you have more than one sister? I would hate to presume an identity and be incorrect.

  Best Regards,

  Mr. Evan J. Glenside

  Mr. Glenside had seen them in the village? Cassie bit her lip. Why that should fill her with excitement she could not say. They always saw a great many people in town, but he had seen them without her knowing it. And she still had no idea who Mr. Glenside was since he had not come to services on Sunday, much to Papa’s regret. Had Mr. Glenside watched the sisters for some time in town? Had he looked between the two and tried to figure out which was Lenora?

  Upon reflection, Cassie remembered that Lenora had been wearing her blue hat the day they’d gone to the shops together, so Mr. Glenside had rightly guessed who was who. What did he think of Lenora’s sister? Had he referenced Cassie’s bonnet—which she’d redone just last week—because he found it particularly fetching?

  Cassie shook her head. That was of no consequence. What was important was that he had noticed Lenora. Cassie’s plan was working!

  She read through the letter again and then, knowing she would be undisturbed until dinner, she hurried to her writing desk. It would not do to appear too eager, so she would wait until next week before she sent the response, but she would write the letter today and date it for the future while she enjoyed every delicious moment of this adventure. Surely if Lenora knew how it felt to receive particular attention from a man, she would not let her anxiety keep her isolated. Cassie didn’t know Mr. Glenside and wasn’t even the true recipient of the letter and yet she was invigorated. She could hardly wait for the day when Lenora would feel like this.

  April 18

  Dear Mr. Glenside,

  I was so glad to receive your letter. My maid is most discreet and seems to find the role of secret envoy rather thrilling. That she has never expected this of me seems to lend greater assurance that she will keep our communication private. I have never had a secret before, and it is rather exciting. I appreciate you allowing our communication to continue in this way.

  You asked after my family and so I shall explain. I am blessed with five sisters—four older and one younger—and two brothers set on either side of Cassie, the youngest girl, in birth order. My older sisters are married; two of them live here in Leagrave. My brothers are away at school, leaving only dear Cassie and myself here at the vicarage. It is strange having so much space after years of being packed in like a toffee box at Christmas, but I enjoy the improved privacy.

  I am flattered that you noticed my bonnet enough to use it as an identifying aspect of my person last week. I was with my dear sister, Cassie, as you guessed. She is such a good friend for me, and she was indeed wearing a straw chip she adorned herself just the week before. She is an artist and adores color so much that she will often have some bright ribbon or flower of some sort about her person. You should know that she is the only person fully aware of my letters to you and therefore completely trustworthy should that be of any matter. She has just turned twenty years old, and I can only hope to be considered half as lovely and good-hearted as she is.

  I am sorry to say I did not see you in the village that day, but I am often more focused on returning home than I am toward making acquaintances in town. Please do not take offense if I am similarly unaware of you in the future. I would appreciate your patience as I try to improve myself in this area. I feel that this exchange of letters is the perfect place for us to become acquainted with one another so that when we do meet in person, I shall feel as though I already know you.

  I am particularly sorry for my personal limitations now that I know how lonesome you feel here. I could help to remedy that if I could get my own difficulties under better measure. I cannot imagine what it would be like to find myself in entirely new society. Why, it makes my heart race just to think of it. I imagine it is very different here than in London. I have only ever been to London to help Mama purchase items for my older sisters’ weddings. It is such a big place, I cannot imagine how anyone can find their way about. You mentioned your mother and sisters—are they still in London? When will they come to Leagrave?

  I understand that you are to inherit your uncle’s estate and are currently helping with the management. What a good opportunity that seems to be, and I sincerely hope that you shall find improved comfort the more time you spend here. I wonder if you will be attending the May Day celebration on the first of May—the entire community is invited. It will be held in the pavilion of the churchyard, and my family helps with the serving. I might see you there. Pray forgive me if I act as though we are unknown to one another—I am the most vexing creature alive, I am sure.

  I find myself wondering about you quite often and would love to know more about your work on the estate and what you do when you can pursue your own interests. For myself, I am a great lover of music and spend hours at the pianoforte. I am also very close to my older sister, Mrs. Capenshaw, who lives with her husband here in the village. I visit with her often. She will welcome her first child soon and being with her often makes me long for my own family one day. Until then I am quite content with improving my domestic skills such as sewing and household management.

  Sincerely yours,

  Lenora E. Wilton

  April 29

  Dear Miss Wilton,

  I apologize for the delay in this letter. I went to Manchester with my uncle on business and did not receive your letter until our return. I shall be certain to make an appearance at the May Day picnic knowing you shall be in attendance; thank you for the invitation.

  In regard to church attendance, I assure you I am not a heathen, though you would not guess it since I have not yet attended services in Leagrave. It is my goal to be a more regular attendee as soon as I am better settled in. Spring seems to be a very busy time here in Bedfordshire, and I am attempting to keep up with all I have to learn about the management duties of the estate while also helping my uncle with a number of tasks the season presents.

  I cannot imagine having so many brothers and sisters as you have, but it sounds as though it has been a blessing for you. As to my family situation, my mother and sisters will be coming to Leagrave by the end of the summer. I have two younger sisters—Camilla is seventeen years old and Natalie is recently turned sixteen. They live with my mother in London but shall be moving to the Dower House at Glenside Manor in a few months, once renovations are complete. Right now they are taking classes on etiquette and dancing. I hope they will be prepared for this new society once they arrive, though I wonder if classes alone are sufficient preparation.

  My mother is remarkable. After my father’s death, she took on printing invitations and such—she has a very fine hand—to make up for my paltry income as an apprentice clerk. I am eager for my family to join me here, and it is very kind of my uncle to have given them the invitation. He did not know any of us prior to my becoming the surprise heir to his estate, and he has been very generous and accommodating.

  As to my interests and pursuits, I was an accounting clerk by trade and content with my place, but it seems the good Lord had a different course set for me. I am very grateful for this new opportunity. I am also rather good with my hands; my father was a skilled carpenter and taught me the basic points of that craft. Sadly, he passed away some twelve years ago. I find it difficult to fill the ache his loss left behind but have found satisfaction in my work since that time. Your father seems to be a good man. His visit was very generous, though I fear it was not very pleasant for him
. I don’t know if he would have told you about it, but my uncle was not quite himself that day.

  I hope that one day I might listen to you play your music. If you devote hours every day you must be quite accomplished. I fear I have not had much exposure to great musicians, but I would be most eager for a change. I am artistically more familiar with design as it applies to the carvings I like to do in the evenings and such. I am impressed with how accomplished you and your sister seem to be.

  I quite admire the solicitous connection you seem to have with your family. What a great blessing that is to you as well as a recommendation of your good character. It is affirming to know of your domestic pursuits; it is such an admirable application in a young woman.

  I shall look for you at the social but will not press for an introduction since I know that might be difficult for you. A smile in my direction, however, would surely be welcome.

  Yours truly,

  Evan J. Glenside

  Cassie had to pinch her lips together from squealing in excitement as she finished Mr. Glenside’s second letter. The tiny spark of jealousy that his interest was so focused on Lenora was quickly doused with the acknowledgment that her plan was working. Better than she could have hoped. He was so candid. So open and comfortable talking with her . . . no, Lenora.

  Cassie wished he had greater appreciation for music, since it was Lenora’s greatest companion, but at least he was open to an education on the topic. His enjoyment of woodworking was interesting—it was not a typical gentleman’s interest—and she appreciated that he felt secure enough to confide in her . . . well, in Lenora.

  Another niggling of regret surfaced but rather than chase it into the corner as she usually did, Cassie decided to confront it. Yes, Mr. Glenside was a very kind, articulate, and interesting sort of man. Yes, if circumstances were different Cassie might have enjoyed getting to know him for her own interest rather than Lenora’s. But circumstances were not different, and, should Cassie ever hope for the opportunity to get to know any man, Lenora must find a happy arrangement first. Every word she wrote was on Lenora’s behalf, and therefore every word Mr. Glenside wrote in response was for Lenora’s benefit, not Cassie’s.

  Besides, he could still look like a troll. She had yet to make his acquaintance, and although Lenora had said he was handsome, and the few people she’d heard comment about him had not said he was unattractive, he had also hid in a garden during a ball. Handsome men did not fall into such fits of anxiety.

  If everything continued to go well, the day was coming when a face-to-face encounter between Lenora and Mr. Glenside would force Cassie to explain herself. Lenora would then read the letters intended for her. It was important that Cassie did not forget that fact.

  She refolded Mr. Glenside’s note and tied it, along with the first letter she’d received, with a ribbon she had taken from Lenora’s room last week—Lenora’s ribbon for Lenora’s letters. Each time Cassie wrote a letter to Mr. Glenside, she made a copy for Lenora too. She was determined to present her sister with a full accounting. All of this was, after all, for Lenora.

  For Lenora.

  For Lenora.

  For Lenora.

  “Do not forget that,” Cassie said to herself as she looked one moment longer on the stack of letters, and then pushed the drawer to her writing desk closed.

  She allowed herself to revisit the fantasy of sitting beside Mr. Bunderson in the fall and sharing intimate conversation with him. Good­ness, Mr. Glenside could be Cassie’s brother-in-law by that time. The thought made Cassie’s chest heat up; a good reminder that she must not entertain any tenderness toward Mr. Glenside. Her thoughts spun forward, and she wondered if Lenora would one day tell Mr. Glenside of Cassie’s role in their relationship.

  The idea made her heart race. Why have I not considered such a thing before now? The instant anxiety propelled her to her feet, and she began to pace from one side of the room to the other. She would be so embarrassed to have him know, and yet, she could not undo the connection now. It was too late. And he would only find out if he and Lenora made a match. But the fact that her plan was working had to be proof that there would be no negative consequences.

  Cassie wished she had time to respond to Mr. Glenside’s letter immediately. Unfortunately she was supposed to be at the pavilion helping to decorate for the social Friday afternoon—just two days’ time. Young had delivered the letter with a sly grin just as Cassie was leaving the vicarage, which necessitated her hurrying to her room to read the letter that very minute. Now, however, she had to remedy her delay. The May Day celebration would be the first time Lenora and Mr. Glenside would be in each other’s company since the beginning of the letter campaign. Thank goodness he was not expecting an official introduction, and yet he did hope for a smile from Lenora—a more than reasonable request.

  Cassie smiled to herself. How hard could it be to ensure such a thing?

  “Where are you off to tonight, my boy?” Uncle asked as the footman served the dessert course. Lemon custard, it looked to be, and Evan’s mouth began watering before he’d even spooned a bite. Genteel food was something he found no hardship in enjoying to its fullest.

  “Mr. Ronald Bunderson invited me to a card game.”

  “Ah, yes, Henry’s third son, I believe. Can’t say I know him well, but Leagrave isn’t such a big village as to not know anyone.”

  Evan had had almost this exact conversation last night when he’d told Uncle about the invitation, but Uncle had already been through a bottle of wine by the time they’d discussed it. He was only on his second glass so far tonight, however, which seemed promising.

  “Seems an amiable man,” Evan said. “We met at the Dyers’ ball, and then conversed at length at the Yardleys’ dinner party last week.”

  Uncle had been invited to last week’s party as well but at the last moment said he did not feel up to the event. Evan had been uncomfortable going alone and had felt great relief when Bunderson arrived. By the end of the evening, Evan felt as though he was making good progress toward becoming part of this community. His origins had not been as much of a stumbling block as he had feared.

  “You are welcome to join the card party, Uncle. The invitation was issued to us both.”

  “Only because I am the head of the house,” he said, shaking his head. “I shan’t crash a young man’s party.”

  “His father will be there.”

  Uncle huffed but said nothing. Instead, he ate his custard, which Evan turned to as well. After a few bites, Evan broached a topic that had been on his mind.

  “Uncle,” he said, putting down his spoon. “This afternoon when David was showing me the tack shed, I noticed an antechamber connected to the stable. It held a variety of odds and ends but didn’t seem to have a specific purpose.”

  “I can’t say I know it off the top of my head.”

  “As I would expect, since its purpose is ambiguous. I asked the stable hand and he said it had been an office for the groomsmen until the new outbuilding had been built with better accommodations.”

  “Ah, yes, I do know the room, then. Must be used for storage now, yes?”

  “Exactly,” Evan said. “I wondered if I might . . . have use of it.”

  Uncle raised his bushy eyebrows. “For what purpose, my boy?”

  Evan shifted slightly, wishing he was not so uncomfortable with this but determined to take this step of combining who he used to be with who he was now. Writing to Miss Wilton about his woodworking seemed to have awakened his desire to bring it into his new life here. “My father left me his tools when he died—I have since rented them out to another carpenter—but I wonder how you would feel about my turning that storage area into a shop. I should like to pursue the craft somewhat, if that would be acceptable.”

  “Carpentry?” Uncle said, leaning back in his chair. “A trade?”

  “Not for occupation,
no. More of a . . . a hobby, I suppose. My father taught me as much as a boy of thirteen could know, and I have spent what time I could manage to pursue it further these last years, but I should like to continue to use the skill. I realize it is not a typical pursuit for a gentleman, and—”

  “I have no objection to your tooling about,” Uncle said easily, returning to his custard. “Only I wouldn’t like to see you setting up a shop or any such thing. To have my heir selling his work would be vulgar.”

  “No,” Evan said, shaking his head and trying not to take offense at the inadvertent insult of his father’s trade. “It would be for my own edification, that is all.”

  “Well, then, I see no reason the storage room can’t be made to accommodate you. I shall have the grooms clear it out.”

  “I would be glad to clear it myself. In fact, I feel rather eager to do so.”

  Uncle looked up at him. “Why on earth would you want to do that? It’s a filthy job.”

  “I don’t mind working up a sweat from time to time,” Evan said, smiling at how foreign the idea seemed to his uncle. “And then I could arrange the room just as I like.” He also hated to add more work to the servants, who already seemed to do too much for the household. It would be nice to take on a task himself, with no help from anyone else.

  “Huh,” Uncle said. “Well, you shall need someone to attend to the reassignment of the items stored there, but I suppose if you truly don’t mind the dirt and vermin and whatnot, I see no reason to prevent your taking charge of it.”

  “Thank you, Uncle,” Evan said with a nod. “I appreciate your blessing very much.” And he did. If Uncle had been uncomfortable with the idea, it would have been difficult for Evan to press him.

  Uncle took the last bite of his custard and then gave Evan a thoughtful look. “Actually, what do you say to striking a bargain in exchange for that storeroom?”

  “What kind of bargain?”