The Vicar's Daughter

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “I am sorry, Evan,” she whispered. “We will fix it together.”

  Evan held her eyes another moment, then he removed her hand from his cheek, and stepped away from her.

  “You do not understand,” he said quietly, still holding her hand.

  “I understand that you need to choose. And while I did not intend for any of this to happen, I cannot deny that I love you. My heart aches for the man I met through your letters, and you cannot tell me you don’t feel the same draw I feel whenever we are together.” She took a breath to infuse her already shocking boldness with more confidence. “You did not go to Lenora with your questions today—you came to me. Does that not convince you which of us holds your heart?”

  He looked at their hands, still joined, and she squeezed his fingers.

  “It is not so simple, Cassie.” He looked up, and she saw his pain, a deep and mournful pain that made her want to take him in her arms. “I cannot simply move my attentions to you. I would be a man without honor to your parents, to your village, and Lenora would be broken by it. Your family could never welcome my attention to you; no one could pretend that what happened had not happened. Unless we were both willing to break all ties to our families and station, we could never be together. My position is precarious. I did not grow up in this world, and I cannot risk my honor or the honor of my mother and sisters.”

  Cassie blinked as the wholeness of their plight began to take form, a hideous, murky form that frightened her. “But surely there is some way . . . your uncle can—”

  “There is no solution to this,” Evan said, shaking his head. “Not if I have any decency. Not if I care for either of you at all.” He dropped her hand and turned away.

  She felt sure he would say something more, but he kept walking. When he was far enough away that she realized he was leaving, she ran after him.

  “Wait, Evan. Please. I am so sorry,” she said when she caught up, out of breath from both the exertion and the anxiety she felt in every corner of her heart. “But—”

  He turned to face her. “As am I, Miss Cassandra.” This time it was his hand that rested on her cheek, and she lifted both of her hands to hold it there, keep it there. She closed her eyes, savoring the closeness and trying to think of some way around the mess she’d made. Love was supposed to conquer all, was it not? She had tried to resist her feelings when she believed only she felt them, but he felt them too. Could that not be enough? There must be a way, even if it was not an easy course.

  When Cassie opened her eyes, he was looking at her with such tender regret that she could not keep her tears from falling. He brushed his thumb over her cheek to catch a tear, then pulled his hand away. She held onto him, not able to let him go, until he pulled sharply from her grasp and stepped away. Her arms fell to her sides.

  “I will not see you again,” he said quietly, his expression closed.

  She felt the hardness and resolution of his words so completely that she could not form a response.

  Evan turned and took long strides away from her. He didn’t look back. Not even once.

  Cassie did not know how long she stood in the glen, looking into the trees, repeating Evan’s words in her mind, and trying to understand them. The dew had soaked through her shoes before she finally returned home, where she hurried to her room and told Young to pass along the message that she was ill. She took off the dress she had put on only an hour before and climbed into bed. It was only a few minutes later that her mother checked on her, as Cassie knew she would. Cassie steeled the torrent of emotions in her chest, waiting until this inspection was over.

  “It’s not a fever,” Mama said, the back of her hand held against Cassie’s brow. “I shall have cook send up broth.”

  Her mother’s tenderness only deepened the knife in Cassie’s heart. If she knew . . .

  Cassie nodded. “Thank you.”

  Mama planted a kiss on Cassie’s forehead, nearly undoing her completely, and then left the room.

  Finally, Cassie gave in to the agony she felt. For herself, for Lenora, for Evan. What kind of woman was she? How could she have allowed this to happen? How could she have believed when she’d received his note this morning that anything other than what had happened would be the result? How could she have been so cruel?

  If Evan broke the engagement he would suffer greatly—they all would—but they would all suffer if he didn’t. What had she done to him? What had she done to Lenora? Could it be fixed? Would he really never see her again?

  It was afternoon when Cassie was roused from fitful sleep by a commotion downstairs. Loud voices. Crying? She pushed back the covers and grabbed her dressing gown, fearful of what had happened until she pulled open her bedchamber door. Lenora was crying on the main level. Lenora, who never showed such emotion. Lenora, who had never in all of Cassie’s life lost her calm demeanor. Cassie’s mouth went dry as she realized why Lenora was crying. Had Evan broken the engagement already? Did they know everything?

  Unable to face the distress she had caused, Cassie stayed frozen in the doorway of her room. The hollow ache in her stomach reminded her that she could do nothing, that she had already done too much. The sound of feet on the stairs broke Cassie from her stupor, and a moment later Lenora, her face red, reached the landing and made eye contact with Cassie.

  Shocked and frightened, Cassie stepped back into her room and tried to shut the door, but Lenora reached it first and pushed it open with all her strength. Cassie stumbled backward and caught herself on the bedpost while the door slammed into the wall.

  “You have ruined everything,” Lenora screamed. “You have shattered my chance at happiness!”

  Cassie’s parents entered the room behind Lenora, rushed and frantic. Cassie could barely breathe and wished that hell could swallow her up whole. Surely she deserved it. “I am sorry,” she managed, her throat tight with building emotion. “I am so sorry, Lenora.”

  “Is it true, Cassie?” Papa asked, his features shocked. “Did you pose as your sister in letters to Mr. Glenside?”

  Cassie covered her face with her hands as though they could protect her from the accusation, then nodded her accountability.

  “Why would you do such a thing?” Mama asked, the disappointment in her voice cutting Cassie to shreds.

  “Because she blamed me for her not being in society,” Lenora said.

  Cassie dropped her hands and looked Lenora in the eye. “I did not mean for any of this to happen,” she said, her chin quivering. “You must believe that I only wrote those letters to help you.”

  “To humiliate me,” Lenora said bitterly, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. She was equal parts rage and heartbreak. “To make me into an utter fool! You had always meant to reveal me as pathetic so he would not want me.”

  “That was never my intent.” Cassie turned her pleading eyes to her parents. “You must believe I would never have set out to cause such pain to the people I love.” In her heart, Cassie included Evan in that group. She loved him. So help her she did, and she had hurt him too.

  “You are hateful and cruel!” Lenora spat.

  Cassie stared at the floor and wiped at her eyes. She had no foundation upon which to defend herself. The only argument she could make was based upon her initial intent—intent that had changed to fulfilling her own desires. That was hateful and cruel. She deserved every accusation hurled at her.

  “Enough,” Papa said, his voice calm and ecclesiastical. “Lenora, you shall come with me so we might discuss the particulars.”

  Cassie glanced up in time to see her parents share a look as Papa escorted Lenora from the room, his arm wrapped protectively around her back.

  Mama closed the door behind them before she spoke to Cassie directly. “So you are not ill.”

  “Sick of heart,” Cassie said, wishing there were some way to purge that type of illness from her soul. She wip
ed at her eyes again. “I did not set my cap for him, Mama. I truly wanted to help Lenora, not hurt her.” She shook her head as more tears ran down her face. Her explanation sounded so pathetic and ridiculous. “I never expected to . . .”

  “To what?” Mama asked, her voice careful. “To fall in love with him?”

  Cassie moved to the bench beside the window and sat down, burying her face in her hands once again. She began to cry—unrestrained and unrelenting tears of regret and sharp sorrow.

  Mama sat beside her and placed her hand upon her back. “Tell me the whole of it,” she said softly, stroking Cassie’s hair. The unexpected—and undeserved—tenderness undid Cassie even more. “What happened?”

  Cassie took a deep breath and told the shameful tale. She left nothing out—what good would that do? She ended with her meeting with Evan just that morning and all that he had said.

  “He is right, you know. There can be nothing between you.”

  Cassie could not respond, realizing that she still hoped, against all reason, that maybe . . . She met her mother’s eyes. “Is it so certain? Perhaps in a year when feelings are not so sharp, when Lenora has found a different match.”

  Mama wiped away Cassie’s tears, but she did not smile nor offer concession. “I feel badly that Mr. Glenside was an unwitting pawn in a game he did not know was being played out around him, but even with that, as Lenora’s parents we could never welcome his attention toward you. We would never put one daughter against another in such a way. There is no course other than to forget him as completely as you can.”

  Cassie looked down, her lower lip trembling. Mama put her fingers under Cassie’s chin and lifted it so she could not look away. “And he has not proclaimed affections for you, Cassie.”

  For a moment Cassie didn’t understand. He loved her. She’d seen it. She’d felt it.

  Mama continued. “He did not even afford us the respect of coming in person. He sent a letter stating that he was returning to London for a time, that he was very sorry for all the distress but that his new understanding of events had left him divided in his heart and mind and unable to keep any connection to our family.”

  Divided. “But Mama,” Cassie said, “he loves me. I know that he does. I feel it when he is near and—”

  “And what does that leave for Lenora?” Mama said, a sharpness in her tone. “You would have her know he had chosen you over her, even after their engagement was known? The banns were to have been read on Sunday, Cassie. Regardless of what Mr. Glenside might feel, he has made it clear that when he returns, which he is most certain to do, he will have no connection to our family. He broke the engagement in a letter, Cassie. His character and his manners are less than we could ever want for any of our daughters.” Her tone had turned bitter.

  Cassie’s defenses rose. “He didn’t know I was writing the letters, Mama.”

  “That is neither here nor there. He has shown himself well enough in the time since he learned. Meeting privately with you? Ending the engagement in a letter? Leaving town!” Mama shook her head, and her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. “Lenora is the victim here, and her alone. It is her we will be considerate toward, not him—and not you, who caused this to happen in the first place. Honestly, Cassie, what were you thinking?”

  Mama’s judgment broke Cassie into pieces. Evan had not only lost the connection to the Wilton family, he would lose the acceptance he’d gained thus far in Leagrave. Mama would not forgive him. Papa would not forgive him. He really would never see her again, yet he would bear the scars of what she’d done. “I truly have ruined everything, haven’t I?” Cassie breathed amid the emotions tumbling inside her.

  Mama’s expression turned sad, her cheeks drooping and the line between her eyebrows deepening. “Yes, I’m afraid you have. However, God is forgiving. You must hold to the hope that the pain you feel now can be swallowed up in the sacrifice of the Lord as you take accountability for what you have done.”

  “I know it was all my fault,” Cassie said, wiping at her eyes but feeling numb. “I am so sorry. I did not mean for anyone to be hurt.”

  “There will be additional consequences to your regrets. You will not go to any events for four weeks’ time, not even the parish dinners, and you are to read your Bible every night. We shall all hope that your part in this is never revealed—what a further blight that would be for all of us. It will be difficult enough to deal with Lenora’s scorn alone without adding your scandalous behavior. With such actions and continual evaluation of what you’ve done, I believe we can heal your soul and preserve our family as best we can.”

  Cassie blinked and felt her chin begin to tremble, not because of the punishment but because of the truth her mother had spoken and the severity of the situation she had caused. Lenora and Evan would suffer publicly, while she would take no share of the pain she herself had caused.

  “My greatest fear is for your sister,” Mama continued, her frown deepening as she looked past Cassie. “She has a tender heart, and I do not know how she might recover from this betrayal.”

  Lenora. Cassie’s thoughts moved to her sister.

  Twenty-three years old, crippled with anxiety, and now jilted by Evan. Cassie’s heart dropped further. How could such a simple act lead to so much pain for so many people? Was there anything—anything at all—that she could do to fix it?

  The question went unanswered as the new reality grew wider and louder in her mind. The future was so bleak, and she had never felt so alone in all her life. She imagined Lenora was feeling the exact same way.

  Evan rode hard for London, trying to outrun the women who haunted him: Lenora with her quiet disposition and serious eyes; Cassie with her striking confidence and engaging manner. Both of their images swirled through his mind, but it was Cassie’s upon which his mind lingered, which only made him ride harder. Cassie had deceived him, and then Lenora had known and not confessed it. Neither could be trusted. Neither could be forgotten nor separated from the other.

  It was late in the day when he arrived at Mile End, and by the time he’d found a public stall for his horse, the sun was setting, casting shadows into the doorways of the homes he had known all his life. The tightly packed tenements had always been so familiar to him, yet now he felt like a stranger. In his fine coat and new boots, he no longer belonged here, and he could feel it in the looks he received from the people he passed on the street. Did he belong anywhere anymore?

  When he finally arrived at his mother’s apartment, he was so overcome with a wave of nostalgia he could not move. In that moment he wished he were returning from the accounting office at the end of a long day, tired and worn, and in old scuffed shoes, but with his place sure. There had been heavy burdens placed upon him back then, but they were familiar and somehow steadying compared to these new problems.

  A woman gave him a suspicious look as she passed him on the street, and he remembered why he was standing there in the first place. He took off his hat and moved to the door set flat against the brick wall, as was every door on this block. He did not know whether or not to walk in as he had done when he lived here. Did the four-room apartment count as his home anymore?

  He knocked and when the door opened to reveal his mother, her eyes went wide. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.

  “Evan?” she said, as though she couldn’t believe it was him. A moment later she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. “Oh, my dear boy.”

  He reached his arms around her and felt some of his tension drain from him. For the first time in months, Evan knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  “Where are my sisters?” Evan asked. He sat at the table as his mother bustled back and forth, fixing him a plate. He had offered to help, but she would have none of it, insisting he take off his boots and rest his back, which, if he was being truthful, was sore after traveling so many miles in one day. In fa
ct every part of him ached from spending so much time in the saddle, and from carrying so much burden in his heart and mind.

  “Mrs. Dorister had her baby this morning,” Mama said as she removed the lid from a pot on the stove. She used a fork to serve a portion of pork roast from the pot—meat they could enjoy on a weeknight only because of Evan’s rise in circumstance. It was a humbling reminder of the good that had come from his new position. He needed that reminder very much. “That makes four little ones now, and all of them under five years of age. The girls have been there all day catching up the washing and the mending.” Mama shook her head. “Children are a gift from God, you’ll never hear me say otherwise, but I fear Mrs. Dorister will need strength beyond her own to endure the blessings she’s received.”

  “Are the Doristers still in the house on the corner?” He remembered it having oilcloth stretched over one broken window and crumbling brick in the back. The Doristers would never be able to afford to fix the house on their own, but a very small portion of his quarterly allowance could make a difference.

  Mama gave him a sympathetic look. “The very same. Three rooms and a leaky roof. I don’t know how she’ll manage another winter.”

  “And Mr. Dorister?” Evan asked, thinking self-consciously of the thirty-two rooms at Glenside Manor, most of them unused.

  “Employed at the docks again, thank the Lord.” She turned with the plate in hand and smiled, obviously pleased to be able to give her son a good meal. She set the food before him and then retrieved the kettle from the stove to pour herself a cup of tea. “Well, tuck in,” she said, using a country accent she knew would make him smile.

  Evan grinned and enjoyed every bite of the plain food. There was something to be said for a simple meal of meat, potatoes, and boiled carrots all served on one plate.

  “Now,” Mama said, “what brings you home unannounced?”