“It is not about embarrassment,” Papa said, his eyes flashing. “It is about honor.”
“Whose honor? Yours?”
Father clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “You are in no position to advise us on this matter. We need not remind you of your part in this.”
“No, you do not need to remind me,” Cassie said, as soft and humble as she could manage. “I am well aware of my part, and so very sorry for having done what I did. To protect me, and our family, we are choosing not to tell my part, which is putting the whole of responsibility on Mr. Glenside, and I do not think that is fair. He is the only innocent in this, and yet he is to suffer the greatest for it. And now his mother and sisters shall share in his undeserved shame.”
Her parents were silent, and then Mama spoke. “You say Mr. Glenside was the only innocent—but what of Lenora? Was she not a victim here? You seem much more concerned for his comfort than for your own sister’s, and I find that distressing.”
“Lenora is a victim too,” Cassie said with a nod. “But she at least knew I’d written the letters. Mr. Glenside did not.”
“What?” Papa said, staring at Cassie across the table. “Lenora knew of the letters prior to the engagement being broken?”
Cassie looked at him, surprised at his surprise. She had rehearsed and reviewed the situation many times and never hidden any information once the deception was discovered. Surely she had mentioned this detail.
“When Mr. Glenside asked Lenora on the carriage ride, I knew he would likely bring up topics of discussion from the letters, and she would not know what he meant. I confessed the whole of it to her, thinking she would be angry or perhaps too embarrassed to continue with the drive, but she was not. She read the letters before he came for her.”
Papa’s brow came together, and he turned to Mama. “Were you aware of this?”
“I suppose it was told to me, though I’m not sure why it makes a difference. It changed nothing.”
“I disagree,” Papa said. “It means that Lenora was part of the deception too.” He pushed away from the table, glaring at Cassie. “Have I no daughters with integrity?” Without another word, he stalked from the room.
Cassie and Mama sat in silence, neither of them speaking or touching the stew left in their bowls. Finally, Mama stood from the table, placed her napkin on her chair, and turned to leave.
“Mama,” Cassie said in a pleading tone.
“I must see to your father.”
She left the room. Cassie was left by herself, but she felt no less alone than when she had first sat down.
By the time Sunday arrived, Cassie was as high-strung as a racehorse. She had thought of nothing but the arrival of the Glensides for days. She was kept so busy at home that she had little chance to pick up on any gossip, and she did not dare ask her parents. What had been coldness between them was frostier than ever after her attempts to talk to them Wednesday night. So she stopped talking. She stopped drawing. She had not lifted a paintbrush in weeks.
Cassie arrived at the church early and prepared the pulpit and the music before taking her place on the second pew. Rose was resting at home, but Victoria’s family filled the third row again. Every muscle in Cassie’s body felt tight, and though she tried to relax her shoulders, and then her jaw, by the time she succeeded in releasing tension from one part of her body, she would find it settled into another part. She kept looking toward the back of the chapel, anxious about the Glensides’ arrival. When her father made his way to the front of the church, as he did every week, she wondered if perhaps they were not coming after all. It was a relief to imagine not having to confront the awkwardness, yet she was disappointed too.
The shifting of skirts and shushing of children as the parishioners found their places was familiar until it went oddly quiet. Cassie turned around as the silence grew.
Evan stood at the back of the church while an older woman and two younger ones took seats on the very last pew. The girls were not pock-marked nor shabby, as Rebecca had claimed, but their clothing wasn’t to the level of the rest of the gentry gathered in the chapel, nor did they move to a forward pew as their station dictated. Instead they sat with the servants and merchants who filled the back half of the church.
It had been one thing for Evan—single and attending alone—to sit in the back as he had on previous Sundays. It was very different for a family to not claim their place in the church. The irony was not lost on Cassie; many of the parishioners likely thought the Glensides were sitting where they belonged.
Evan caught Cassie’s eye for only a moment before he looked away, and she felt her face catch fire at the simple connection. She faced forward again, worried the other parishioners would misinterpret her reaction. Or perhaps guess it correctly. She swallowed in hopes of remedying her dry mouth. The appearance of the Glensides had obviously been the cause for the hush of the room, but now the twittering of voices might as well have been a trumpet.
“I am shocked he dares to show his face,” a woman whispered to Mama.
“All are welcome in the church of God,” Mama said, her smile tight as she faced stoically forward.
The woman grunted and turned away.
Cassie looked up at Papa. He was watching the newcomers, and Cassie hoped no one else could see the tightness in his shoulders and jaw. Her heart ached, and she wished she dared stand and tell the congregation it was not Evan’s fault. It was her fault, and yet to say so was out of the question.
Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. She could not fall apart here—that would never do—but her heart felt like tin in her chest. She should do something. But what?
Papa began to talk about the apostolic ministries outside of Judaea.
Cassie could not focus on his words. Instead, every one of her senses was attuned to Evan. She resisted looking over her shoulder and meeting his gaze. Had the days spent apart changed his feelings? She reminded herself it would do no good to think such a thing; she was to forget him. Forget how he made her feel. Forget his touch. She closed her eyes and relived the moments they’d spent together in the glen. Just thinking on their last conversation caused her face to tingle.
Mama took hold of Cassie’s hand, causing her eyes to open. She gave her mother a sideways glance. Mama’s jaw was tight, her eyes too intent to be truly focused on Papa.
“Do not appear affected,” Mama said so quiet Cassie nearly did not hear her. “He is nothing to us. Pretend he is not there.”
Impossible, Cassie thought. But she had no choice except to try to do exactly that. He is everything to me.
If Cassie were feeling high-strung when she arrived at church, she was wound as tight as a piano wire by the time services finished. As was his custom, her father made his way to the back doors so he might bid farewell to each individual member. Mama usually followed him, adding her sentiments to his. Today, she remained in her seat and engaged Victoria in conversation concerning Rose and how they might help her in the coming week.
Cassie’s hands were already balled into fists, and she let out a breath. The parishioners would notice that the vicar’s wife was not participating in today’s farewell. They would read into it that the family was not welcoming the Glensides, and everyone would follow suit.
The congregation prepared to leave, and many began to visit in hushed tones. In a rush of energy, Cassie got to her feet. If Mama had been sitting on the outside of the pew, Cassie would not have been able to get past her. By the time Mama reached out, Cassie was out of range. She did not look back when Mama said her name under her breath.
Cassie hurried down the aisle, feeling sixty pairs of eyes upon her but not meeting any of them. Not even Evan’s, though she longed to do so. Everyone was watching her, and she dared not risk anyone seeing more in the glance than she could afford them to see.
She took her mother’s place beside her father and put a
smile on her face when he gave her a questioning look. There was no time for more than that as the first parishioners reached them.
“Good to see you,” Cassie said to Sir Keymont after her father thanked him for coming. She shook his hand and then those of his four children before moving on to the Richardsons. “Lovely to have you,” she said to them and then proceeded to follow each farewell her father offered with a good-bye of her own.
The gentry faded into gentlemen farmers—including Victoria’s family
—and then to the merchants, tradesmen, and servant classes. By this time on a typical Sunday, Cassie was usually in the yard talking to her friends. She felt more and more conspicuous under the questioning looks of the departing parishioners.
Cassie felt her father tense, and she reached out to give Papa’s wrist a squeeze. The Glensides were approaching. She understood how he felt, truly she did, but she also trusted in his compassion to handle this uncomfortable moment with grace. If he could be welcoming, the parishioners might follow his example.
“Welcome back, Mr. Glenside,” her father said, his tone formal.
Cassie took a breath as the men shook hands. Did Evan sense the tightness of her father’s demeanor? She prayed he did not.
“Thank you, Mr. Wilton,” Evan said. “I would like to introduce you to my mother, Mrs. Carolyn Glenside, and my sisters, Camilla and Natalie.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” Father said, inclining his head. He did not hold their eyes, however, not even with Mrs. Glenside, who deserved his respect as a woman and a widow.
Cassie swallowed and felt heat rise in her cheeks. Did Mrs. Glenside know everything?
Evan would not look at Cassie, instead he stepped back, allowing his family to approach Papa. Cassie did not miss that the action prevented him from shaking her hand or exchanging a greeting. Her heart thudded in her chest.
Cassie looked back at his mother to find the woman’s eyes on her. Cassie’s mouth went dry again, and she felt as though her face was nothing more than a list of all her failings, which Mrs. Glenside was reading line by line.
Papa had already dropped Mrs. Glenside’s hand and was looking past them to someone else. Cassie was embarrassed by his rudeness.
“Mrs. Glenside,” she said softly, extending a hand. “I’m honored to meet you.”
Mrs. Glenside furrowed her brows slightly, as though doubting Cassie’s words, but she put out her hand all the same. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Cassandra.”
Cassie’s face flamed even hotter. She had not introduced herself, which meant that Mrs. Glenside knew who she was due to her son’s telling. Cassie withdrew her hand, wishing her skin did not feel like it was on fire.
“I’m Natalie.”
The younger of the two girls stood before her, hand out and face beaming. Cassie took the girl’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Welcome to Leagrave.”
“Oh, thank you,” Natalie said, extracting her hand and tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. “We have been here only three days, and I love it to my toes.” She bounced up and down on those toes, looking around her. “Our church in London smelled like a barn, but this church smells lovely. Like good soap. It is grand!”
Papa excused himself and moved deeper into the church, putting his arm across the back of one of the local farmers and steering him away from the exit as though seeking private conversation. Cassie felt sure he only wanted to get away from the Glensides.
The older sister stepped forward and put out her hand, recapturing Cassie’s attention. “I am Camilla,” she said. She did not have the exuberance of Natalie, but she did not have the knowing look of their mother either.
Cassie glanced at Evan for some sign as to what his sisters knew of the situation, but he was talking quietly with his mother and not looking her direction. She looked back at Camilla and brightened her expression, determined to do right by this girl who appeared to be only a few years younger than Cassie herself.
“Lovely to meet you, Camilla. Are you as pleased with Leagrave as Natalie is?”
“I like it,” she said cautiously. “We haven’t met anyone yet, though.”
“We knew everyone in the Mile End,” Natalie offered glibly. “Lived there all our lives, you know.”
“It must be difficult to leave something so familiar.” And how much harder to enter a place that had already made up its mind about you? Her heart went out to these girls, whose manners were not so rough as they were new. Evan had said they were taking etiquette classes in London, which was good as there was no such training easily available in Leagrave. Would their charm and appealing natures count toward anything? Would anyone in the village give them a chance?
Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie could see her parents lingering in the aisle rather than passing the Glensides to exit. A quick look to the yard showed a number of people in pockets of conversation, casting cautious glances her way, likely whispering about what she was doing talking to those people.
The unfairness took hold of her, and Cassie turned to Evan and Mrs. Glenside conversing quietly a few feet away. “Mrs. Glenside,” she said in a strong voice, pausing until she had the woman’s attention. “Would your family do us the honor of joining us for dinner?”
Mrs. Glenside looked shocked, and a sharp gasp from her right told Cassie that Mama had approached in time to hear the invitation. Mrs. Glenside shared a look with her son. “Tonight?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” Cassie said. But when? There was no time to properly prepare to host a dinner by Monday night, Wednesday was stew and choir, and Thursday was wash day plus the parish dinner, which had already been planned two months in advance. Friday and Saturday nights were reserved for entertainments. “Tuesday,” she said, thinking quickly.
“Oh, well,” Mrs. Glenside looked at Evan again, who gave her the smallest shrug Cassie had ever seen. Mrs. Glenside turned back to Cassie. “I suppose Tuesday would be fine.”
“Very good,” Cassie said, her heart nearly leaping out of her throat. She pointedly ignored her mother’s gaze that was drilling holes through her. “We shall send round a note with the particulars.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed enough for her to know what he was thinking—he’d had his fill of her notes.
Cassie’s smile faltered, so she looked at Natalie and Camilla. “We shall see you all on Tuesday, then.”
“Wonderful!” Natalie said, clapping her hands as she hurried toward her mother to share her excitement.
“Thank you,” Camilla said more appropriately, though her eyes danced.
They are fish out of water, Cassie thought, looking over the four of them as they exited the church. Her eyes lingered on Evan’s back, and she swallowed. She would have an entire evening in his company, similar to the evenings he’d come to the vicarage when he was courting Lenora.
A tight grip on her arm caused her to start, and she turned to look into her mother’s eyes that were flashing like sparks from a tinderbox.
“What on earth are you doing?” Mama said between clenched teeth.
“Being kind,” Cassie said through her fear. She shook her arm free of her mother’s grasp and stepped away from her, looking around to see if anyone had seen her mother’s action. Everyone, it seemed, was watching the Glensides, who were making their way toward Glenside Hall. Not a single person offered them greeting.
“You have overstepped your bounds,” Mama said in a dark whisper.
Cassie expected to feel anger at what she felt was an unchristian accusation, but instead she felt profound sorrow, regret, and exhaustion. Tears rose her eyes, and she felt her chin tremble. “I am trying to do right, Mama,” she said in a shaky whisper. “It is not fair that they should be spurred for something that is my fault.”
“You cannot have him,” Mama snapped with irritation, seemingly unaffected by Cassie’s emotion. “In
gratiating him to you through kindness to his family will change nothing.”
Cassie turned away and wiped her eyes as discreetly as possible so that the parishioners would not see. “I am not trying to earn his affection. He would not even look at me.”
“And if he had?”
“He didn’t,” Cassie whispered. It cut her to the quick to say it. She met her mother’s eyes once more. “You have told me to forget him, and I am trying, but I cannot let his family carry the burden of what I have done. I have caused so much injury already.”
Mama took a breath, her eyes still sharp, and looked past Cassie, presumably at the Glensides, who must still be in view. “Go to your father’s office to recover yourself,” she said. “We’ll talk about this later.”
The next afternoon, Evan looked over the ivy-covered brick of the church and straightened his waistcoat. He had requested—and been granted—a conference with Mr. Wilton, which is why he and his uncle were now approaching the south door of the church. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him the vicarage, built from the same brick as the church. Cassie is on the other side of those walls, he thought to himself as he looked across the cemetery that separated the two buildings. Thoughts of Cassie should be buried like the dead; however, she was not so easily forgotten.
“Thank you for coming with me, Uncle,” Evan said, embarrassed to verbalize his gratitude but needing to say the words.
Uncle stepped up beside Evan and gave a similar inspection to the church. “I haven’t wanted to make a snort about it, but you and I should have spoken to Mr. Wilton in person when you broke the engagement in the first place.” He gave Evan a sidelong look.
The Vicar's Daughter Page 20
