The Vicar's Daughter

by Josi S. Kilpack

  He glanced up at her, his mouth full of food, and she hurried to amend the question. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, only I know my son and he is not the type to make a hasty journey. I hope you have not had a falling-out with your uncle.”

  “No,” Evan said once he’d swallowed. He thought of the letter he’d left on Uncle’s desk before he’d made his escape. A cowardly escape, but it was all he could manage amid the swirling realizations of what he must do and what it would mean for the people involved. “At least I hope I have not.”

  Mama pulled her eyebrows together, and Evan hurried to explain. “I left in a hurry. He was not yet awake for the day so I left him a letter.”

  “A letter you feel will not be well received?”

  Evan paused, wishing he knew how to go about this conversation. He had been the head of house since he was thirteen years of age. He made the decisions for the family, set boundaries for his sisters, and kept his mother on a budget. She never begrudged him the position, rather she seemed glad he had taken the lead. Due to the roles they had assumed, he did not often confide his concerns to his mother. The letter he had sent to her regarding Miss Wilton was the only time he remembered asking for her advice on a personal matter. Perhaps that was why he had taken her encouragement so seriously. But once again, he was in need of a solace he had never needed before and found the change of position between them an awkward one to manage.

  Evan pushed a bit of potatoes across his plate. “I have broken my engagement to Miss Wilton.” He waited for a gasp or some other reaction but when none came, he looked at his mother again.

  “You must have had good reason,” she said simply, evenly, without judgment. Her response melted some of the fear lodged in his gut like a rock.

  “I believe I did.” Evan felt encouraged to tell her the whole of it. “The letters I believed to be sent by Lenora were actually written by her sister on Lenora’s behalf, without Lenora’s knowledge initially. Yesterday I chanced to meet with Cassandra and walked her home. There was something familiar about our conversation, something I could not identify. I thought at first it was because we had spoken at dinner some weeks ago, but once I got home, I opened a letter Lenora had sent when her sister was out of town a few weeks ago, confirming that I could escort her to a dinner party. The handwriting was very similar, but the signature was different. Also, it was signed ‘Miss Lenora Wilton,’ while her earlier letters had disposed of that formality. I read through all the letters again and noted other differences, including a reserve in this latest letter that did not exist in the earlier. I realized other things too, like the way Miss Cassandra tried to avoid me, but then I would find her watching me. And the strange reaction she had to our engagement. She went quite pale and kept her hands clenched in her lap, though the words she said were exactly right. I sent her a note asking that she meet me, and when I accused her, she admitted her deception.”

  The relief he felt at being able to express his thoughts was surprising. Evan was used to being a solitary man and keeping his own counsel. He’d have never guessed that verbalizing his burden would feel so good.

  “And so why did you break the engagement?” Mama asked.

  Evan pulled his eyebrows together. Had he not spoken clearly? “Lenora did not write the letters, Mama.”

  “But you and Miss Wilton had more than just those letters between you. Have you not spent a great deal of time in her company these last weeks?”

  Evan considered her question, and the answer came to his mind with clarity and truth.

  “Evan?” Mama prompted after several seconds had passed.

  He pulled his unseeing gaze from the window, where it had become caught, to his mother’s face. “It was the letters that touched me and gave me hope that more time with Lenora would soften the awkwardness I felt in her company. My interest was in what the letters held.”

  His mother smiled sadly and reached across the table to place her hand over his. “It is Miss Cassandra you fell in love with, then.”

  Evan closed his eyes but did not deny the simple truth of his mother’s words. Words he himself had not been able to admit on his own. At least not completely. “I do not dislike Miss Lenora Wilton,” he said, slowly. “But it was the woman in the letters that drew my interest, who prompted me to make Miss Wilton an offer. My expectation was that the woman in the letters would be revealed as the woman I was with.”

  “And the advice of your mother pushed you toward making that offer,” Mama said with regret.

  “You hold no blame here. I bear no ill will toward you for helping me navigate the situation as I understood it to be. Which,” he said sadly, “was not what I thought it was.”

  “What a horrible trick for them to play.”

  Yes, he did feel tricked. Only . . . “I do not believe it was intended that way.” He thought back to Cassie’s explanations in the glen that morning. “I think Cassie was genuinely trying to help her sister when she began.”

  Mama seemed skeptical, and Evan wondered why he felt the need to defend Cassie. His mind went back to the confession she’d made that her own heart had become entangled. She was left with a very different outcome than she’d expected. Enough that she’d confessed her feelings to him, enough that she had hoped in a way he never could that somehow they would be together. He let out a heavy breath and brought a hand to his forehead.

  Cassie. With those snapping eyes, her easy conversation, and her genuine interest in what interested him. Even during their short time together, she’d had an ability to make him feel sure of himself, to lift him up. And when he was wrestling with his decision regarding Lenora, had his mind not wished she were more like Cassie? It was freeing to identify the fullness of his attraction to her. He was unsure he could call what he felt love, but the pull he felt toward Cassie was more than he felt for Lenora, especially now that he knew the letters had been Cassie’s doing. Cassie had said she loved him. Loved him.

  “What are you thinking of, Evan?” Mama asked.

  Evan looked at her. “Cassie cares for me, Mama.” He could not tell her the extent of Cassie’s confession. It felt too sacred, but he could say this much. “She said as much this morning, and I had to explain to her why it could never be. Her parents would never accept my attention to her even if society would, which it will not. By the time I return to Leagrave, the broken engagement will be known. I do not know how I shall stand it. I do not know what to do.”

  Mama’s brow furrowed, and she squeezed his hand. She opened her mouth to speak just as the familiar chatter of voices sounded from outside. A moment later the door opened and Natalie entered, followed by Camilla. They both stopped in the doorway, their eyes widening as they looked in surprise upon their brother.

  “Evan!” Natalie said, rushing to cross the room and throw her arms around his neck. Camilla was only a step behind, and soon Evan’s arms were full of his giggling sisters, and his ears were ringing with their inquisition.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Is our house finished?”

  “Did you bring Miss Wilton?”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Did Uncle Hastings come?”

  “Did you bring us anything?”

  “Girls,” Mama finally said, “you must allow your brother some breath.”

  She pulled them both back so Evan could sit up straight in his chair again. Was it possible they had grown taller in the months he’d been gone? Camilla was seventeen, but Natalie had had a birthday and was now sixteen years old. He felt the sweet burden of their care. His eyes moved to his mother’s face and that sweetness only compounded. It was only in this moment that he could admit having considered giving up the inheritance—walking away from it all—in order to pursue Cassie. But as he looked on the faces of his young sisters, he knew he would do whatever was required to ensure their future security.

  “How ar
e your classes going?” Evan asked.

  “Very well,” Natalie answered quickly.

  Camilla hurried to be the next one to speak. “We have elocution classes every Monday, dance on Tuesdays, and general etiquette on Thursday afternoons.” She furrowed her brow. “Honestly it’s exhausting, Evan.”

  “But exciting,” Natalie cut in. “We are learning ever so many things. For instance, did you know that a young woman is never to scratch her nose in company? Not for any reason at all.”

  Evan smiled. “Yes, I imagine there are a hundred such details just like that. I’m glad you are enjoying the classes.”

  “I love them,” Natalie said, then glanced at Camilla. “Camilla simply tolerates them.”

  “That is not true,” Camilla said, glaring at her sister. “I’m glad to take them, Evan. I am simply less eager about the continual travel to Regent Park where Miss Ellington conducts the classes.”

  “How is the renovation?” Natalie said, her face bright with anticipation. “I cannot wait to see the cottage.”

  “I cannot wait to have my own room,” Camilla said, narrowing her eyes at her sister.

  “Camilla,” Mama said, “do not be ungracious.”

  “The renovation is coming along well,” Evan said, but his mind was spinning with an idea. It would be so much more comfortable to return to Leagrave with people who knew and loved him and who would not hold the broken engagement with Miss Wilton against him. He would have allies—three, at least—and, if he were entirely honest, distraction. “It should be finished by August, as we expected.” It was supposed to have been done in time for the wedding. His stomach sank. How could he tell his sisters the wedding was no longer happening?

  “I wish we could go now,” Natalie said with a wistful tone.

  When Evan had first gone to Bedfordshire, he wouldn’t have dreamed of requesting his family come to Leagrave early and live in the big house. It wasn’t his place to ask Uncle to share his home, but in light of his stronger relationship with his uncle, and Evan’s need to feel the support of his family around him, he had little hesitation now. Truth be told, having his family with him might be the only way he could make himself return. After so many years of being needed by them, he now needed them for himself. Whatever happened upon his return to Leagrave, he would not be alone if they came with him. It felt like salvation. It felt like hope.

  The air at the vicarage was so laden with tension and regret following the broken engagement that it became difficult for Cassie to breathe. She kept to her room, coming down only for mealtimes, which were awkward and silent, and then escaping to her self-imposed prison as quickly as she could. The house was silent during the day. Lenora did not speak in Cassie’s presence nor did she play her beloved pianoforte. She seemed folded in on herself, broken and shrinking.

  They were both prisoners in their own way, and Cassie prayed morning and night for reprieve, some way to make restitution, some way to free them all from the chains she had bound them with. There was no answer, just the suffocating silence.

  Friday morning, Cassie went down to breakfast, hoping that she would have the meal to herself, as had been the case the day before. The clatter of a fork against plate made her stop just outside the room. What if Lenora was inside? Cassie turned quietly and had taken a single step toward the stairs when she heard Mama’s voice.

  “Are you certain, Lenora?” Her voice held such compassion that Cassie envied the recipient. While her mother had not harangued Cassie or been cruel, neither had she softened or reached out with kindness. Not that Cassie deserved kindness. The censure from her parents was well earned, and yet she longed for the comfort she knew she would not receive.

  “I cannot face him, let alone the entire parish, Mama.”

  “Your absence might be misinterpreted as some kind of admission. You have done nothing wrong. He was the one to cry off.”

  “I can’t stay here.”

  Cassie had been shocked by Lenora’s strength of feeling immediately following the broken engagement when she’d confronted Cassie in a rage. Cassie had never seen her sister in such high emotion, but since then Lenora had shriveled back into her unobtrusive self. Her voice now was resolute rather than pleading, though there was still a pitiable quality to it. Cassie moved closer to the door, careful not to reveal herself.

  “Lenora,” Mama said softly, and Cassie could imagine that she extended her hand to her daughter. “I feel it would be best for you to stay. If anyone should go it should be Cassie.”

  Go? Go where?

  “So that I might be left with the household duties? So that I must make the parish visits and pretend my heart is not broken within my chest?” She sniffled, and Cassie clutched at her stomach. “I would rather go to Bath and serve as Aunt Gwen’s companion for the summer. Let Cassie be the one to suffer here in Leagrave.”

  “The request I sent was for Cassie to be her attendant, and it was an imposition to do even that much. To change daughters after overstepping my bounds already—”

  “When have I ever asked for anything, Mama?” Lenora said with startling ferocity. “I cannot stay here. In Bath, I shall have an occupation and the distance I need to recover myself, which I don’t believe I ever shall if I remain here.” She lowered her voice. “I am the subject of gossip and accusation, Mama, and it cuts through me like a knife. Cassie’s deception is completely unknown. I bear the sharp eyes and sharper tongues alone.”

  “Oh, my dear girl,” Mama said, her words muffled in what Cassie assumed was an embrace. She clenched her eyes tight. This was the first Cassie had heard of a request being sent to Aunt Gwen, but knowing she might have the chance for escape filled her with longing, even as it was being taken from her. Had Lenora insisted Cassie be removed and now changed her mind, or was it their parents’ decision to send Cassie to Bath? Could Lenora not stand the sight of her sister even twice a day at family meals? Had Cassie managed to ruin every bit of sisterly love and friendship they had ever shared?

  Cassie did not stay to hear the end of the discussion but returned to her bedchamber. She closed the door softly behind her before making way to her writing desk. She did not know if she would be informed of Lenora’s departure and felt the need to speak her heart before they were separated.

  She removed a piece of paper and tried not to think of all the other times she had written letters at this desk. Letters to Evan. How had she ever believed that such a thing would end any differently than it had? Why had she believed the deception would be purified somehow?

  The Bible did not say, “Thou shalt not lie—unless you believe it will improve your situation.” She had justified herself all along and tread unfairly upon the hearts of people she loved. She ached to make it right, and yet such hope seemed impossibly out of reach. Cassie had never understood the true nature of repentance before and now felt as though she could not partake of the offering due to her own failings. But she had to try. Surely the sweet nature of her sister would prevail, and Cassie would at least know that Lenora did not hate her for what she’d done.

  Dearest Lenora,

  It is difficult to find the words to express what is in my heart, but that difficulty must stem from the fact that I have never in my life felt such regret and remorse for something I have done. I was wrong to write those letters in your place, and if I could go back I would instead encourage you to have done it. It interfered with what might have grown between you and Mr. Glenside naturally. And I did not stop even when I realized my heart was becoming involved. I am so sorry. I know I cannot make it right and undo your suffering. I know I deserve your anger and scorn. I am so sorry.

  I can only hope that one day our sisterly affections can return to what they once were—before I so arrogantly presumed to force Providence upon you. Please forgive me, Lenora. From the bottom of my heart—amid all the pain and regret I feel—it is your forgiveness that I pray for, long f
or, and need so very much, though I know I am undeserving. I beg of you to ease my heart and forgive me my selfishness that hurt you so severely. I am glad you are able to go to Bath and escape the situation I have created here in Leagrave. Know that my love and support goes with you, and that I wish you every good thing.

  Love always,

  Cassie

  Cassie felt raw as she reread the letter, as though she had bled across the page. Expressing such vulnerability was not something she was used to. And yet she meant every word and prayed that Lenora would feel her sincerity. When she finished, she sealed the letter with wax as she would a letter she’d planned to send by post. She opened her bedroom door, ensured the hallway was empty, and then walked across to Lenora’s room. She slid the letter beneath the door and then hurried back to the security of her own room, wishing she could watch her sister read it. Surely Lenora would be as affected by the words when she read them as Cassie had been when she wrote them.

  At dinner that evening, Papa announced that Lenora was leaving for Bath on the morning coach and would serve as Aunt Gwen’s companion through the summer. That soon? Cassie thought.

  “I hope you have a lovely trip,” Cassie said.

  Lenora said nothing and did not look up. She cut a bite of her chicken as though Cassie had not spoken at all. The meal returned to silence.

  The next morning, Cassie offered to help as Mama and Young rushed back and forth to gather this item and that. Mama shook her head and asked that Cassie remain out of the way until she was called to say good-bye to Lenora.

  Cassie was sitting at the window seat in her room, waiting to be called, when a sound outside her door caught her attention. She turned to see a white square resting on the floorboards a few feet into the room. Cassie’s heart jumped. Lenora must have read her note and written a response!

  She hurried to snatch the note from the floor, only to pull her eyebrows together. It was the same note she had put beneath Lenora’s door yesterday. Lenora’s name was written across the front in Cassie’s own hand. She turned the letter over, thinking perhaps Lenora had written her response on the same paper, but the seal had not been broken. Lenora had not even read it.