Chapter Six
Pamela tried to call Jonathan back to continue their lively discussion, but he had already shut the door behind him. Once again, she was sure she had offended him, though she was uncertain as to how.
Sarah shrugged. "I'm sorry. My brother feels things very deeply."
Pamela shook her head, feeling unaccountably near tears. "It is I who should be sorry. I called him a Bonapartist, and set him off. I do apologize. I'm ashamed of myself. Bonaparte is only interested in his own power. Jonathan is interested in using the little power he has to help as many people as possible. I see the difference now."
Sarah smiled at her fondly. "Jonathan would be pleased to hear you say that."
"And equally pleased if I were to ask him to help educate me. But he's obviously very vexed with me, so I shall have to ask you."
Pamela paused, and took a steadying breath. "Pray do not laugh at me for what I'm about to say. I find that you and your brother may be right. That living a life of continuous socializing and frivolity is a wasted existence.
"Oh, I know I cannot give up my balls and soirees entirely. But I should like to have a balance in my life, so that people I respect do not think me an absolute ninny."
Sarah looked mildly surprised. "I see."
"Will you help me? Will you lend me some books, or give me a list of what you think I should study?" she asked shyly.
Sarah smiled. "I'll do better than that. We shall also go over to see Vanessa Stone at Millcote. She'll gladly help. She is the best-educated woman I know, and will be only too pleased to assist you."
"I thought perhaps, since we just spoke of it, some adult literacy lessons might be useful. The children have got a good school, thanks to Jonathan, but educating the parents would be an excellent thing too, would it not?"
Sarah nodded, but cautioned, "After a long day of work, it might be hard to get them to come. In any case, who would look after the children?"
Pamela thought for a moment, then suggested, "They could come to the village hall and play and be looked after by volunteers."
Sarah considered the proposal in silence. At length she said, "It would be a big undertaking, and require more than just your good intentions. You would also have to give up your nightly entertainments."
"We can start it one night a week, and see how we go?"
"I'll do what I can, as will Jonathan, I'm sure, once I tell him." She reached for her work basket.
"Does he need to know?" she asked, blushing.
Sarah laughed over her darning. "Well, of course, if you wish to use the parish hall."
"He might think it presumptuous of me."
Sarah smiled. "No, Jonathan will be delighted. And he's certainly not one to stand upon ceremony where the welfare of his parishioners is concerned. No, I think it will be a great success."
Pamela bit her lip. "The more you talk about it, the more I'm getting cold feet. What if I fail? And besides, I'm not all that clever."
"You won't fail. Anything you can do to help the poor is better than nothing. As for being clever, you don't have to be. You're passing on what you know to people who will need and appreciate it. Often the best way to learn yourself is by teaching."
"I've thought of one other stumbling block. You know I shall be going to Bath and London eventually for the Season."
Sarah shrugged one shoulder. "We can do our best to start them off, and see how we get on from there. I'm hoping there will be other young ladies willing to follow your example and donate their time too."
"Very well. How shall we start, do you think?" Pamela asked eagerly, perching on the edge of her chair.
Sarah plied her needle for several moments. "With the alphabet and simple passages from the Bible? And I am sure our teacher Mr. Brockway will gladly help guide us. I shall get pen and paper and we can begin to organize." She put down the stocking and moved over to the small writing table. Pamela rose from the fire and joined her.
They spent the next half-hour making a list of all they would need, until the grizzled old manservant Caleb told them it was time for supper.
Pamela rose from her seat by the desk, determined to leave, since Jonathan seemed so undesirous of her company. "I really shouldn't stay. It's too inconvenient for you."
"Not at all. The weather is still so foul, the roads and lanes running with mud. And I'm sure I smell snow. We have no carriage, only the small trap. By the time Jonathan got you home, you would both catch your deaths. It's far better to stay here for the night."
"But I have nothing with me."
"I'll be glad to lend you anything you like. It will be so fun to have a guest. Your aunt will know where you are and not be worried, I take it?"
Pamela peered out the leaded window. The torrential rains had turned into flurries, just as Sarah had predicted. "Oh my, it looks like a blizzard out there. No, I'm sure Aunt Susan would guess that I took shelter here with you, and have not come to any harm."
"Good, then. It's all settled. Come and eat. Afterwards I shall show you to your room. I look forward to having your company this evening. But please do not feel obliged to sit up with me if you're fatigued."
"Not at all. I've had little enough to tire me these past few weeks."
"This time just after the holidays can be rather depressing," Sarah observed as she led the way down the hall to their cozy dining room.
Pamela saw that the table had been laid for three. Jonathan must have given the instructions, though he was nowhere to be seen.
He appeared a short while later looking rather distracted. Pamela noticed he was in his waistcoat, his dark cravat had been loosened, and he was wearing black bands on his shirtsleeves. He noticed her look, and stripped off the ink-spattered cloths.
"I beg your pardon. I did wash my hands, though, I assure you. I was writing my letter to The Times. I must thank you for the stimulating conversation before, Miss Ashton. I believe I have found the very topic for my sermon on Sunday."
Sarah soon informed him of their conversation about educating the parents in the village. As she had predicted, he was most enthusiastic.
"We shall get tutors to work with them one to one. A half an hour a couple of times each week should be fine. The children can come too, and we shall have tea and cakes. I'll hire some of the older village children to help out.
"This is splendid. It will make a huge difference to so many lives," he said, his face shining with an inner light of conviction. "Thank you, Miss Ashton. I feel confident that together we can all make many valuable contributions to the people of Brimley."
He smiled at her warmly. Pamela smiled back, wondering as she did so how she had ever thought Jonathan Deveril strict and dour. He was the most handsome and genteel of men, and did his best to live up to the stringent morals he expected of others, she could see that now.
He tried to turn the topic of conversation to subjects he knew Pamela would be interested in, and regarding people they had in common.
She noticed that unlike many of the men and women she knew, the brother and sister did not say more than was strictly factual about their acquaintance, and never joined in with any salacious gossip. She made a mental note to try to curb her own gossipy tendencies with a much more ruthless determination than heretofore.
The meal was an excellent one, served on fine china, with good silver. The sideboard had an impressive array of tableware and silver as well. Pamela guessed that they too had been provided by the Duke.
When she said something about the Duke's superb taste, they simply nodded and turned the conversation back to their new décor. Little did suspect know just how lofty the Deverils had been, and actually still were, though lacking in any desire to flaunt their wealth and status.
Pamela took in every little detail of the meal for further reflection later in the privacy of her chamber. The Deverils' manners, for example, she deemed most fine. She reflected, not for the first time, that he seemed more than a simple country vicar. He had evidently travel
ed, seen the world, been to Oxford, and served in the Army. He must have been a younger son, forced to seek a career for himself.
"And your family, Sarah. Will they too be joining us in Bath?"
"Alas, no. Both of our sisters live in the North, and are married well, with quite big households to take care of."
"No brothers, then?"
"Jonathan is my only one. I'm more than grateful to have him." She smiled at him fondly.
"That's not what you used to say when we were children," he laughed.
"Only because you were so inordinately fond of living creatures, and decided everyone in the house simply had to be as in love with frogs and squirrels and all sorts of other crawling things as you were."
They both laughed happily at the memory.
"He used to drive Father to despair," Sarah giggled.
At the mention of his father, Jonathan sobered, and quickly deflected the conversation away from himself and onto their guest.
"And you, Miss Ashton. You were an only child, I take it, until your father re-married?"
"That is right. Step-Mama came along with little Bertie and Bella, and the girls were born a couple of years later. There's a large gap between us though, that I must admit is a bit hard to breach. I'm glad that Bertie was made Father's heir, of course, but it's a big responsibility for us all until he attains his majority at twenty-one. I'm afraid he acts quite the little lord of the manor, for all that his own father was a spendthrift and wastrel who left him with nothing."
"Do you not think it unjust that your father's wealth should all go to Bertie simply by virtue of his being male, without regard to merit or entitlement?"
Pamela stared at Jonathan, nonplused. It had never occurred to her before. It also seemed so disrespectful to her father to question his judgment.
"Father worked hard for what he achieved. It was his right to dispose of his wealth as he chose," she said with a lift of her chin.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. I was simply pointing out that it seems unfair for one child to inherit everything simply by dint of the fact they were born first, and by an accident of circumstance also happen to be male."
"But it's an opinion shared by many, Mr. Deveril. Our inheritance system is not something that we can change overnight."
"Yes, but Clifford Stone and his brother Henry are good examples of people who have tried to change things, and you-"
Sarah shot her sibling a reproachful look once more. "That's enough, Jonathan. We are getting carried away again in front of our guest, when I'm sure she'd like to have her dessert in peace."
He signaled for Caleb to take away their plates and bring the sweet and a cheese board. "I like to have coffee with the pudding if you don't mind, and this room is so cozy."
"It is," she said, admiring the dark wood and the brocade hangings in rich wine and blue.
"A bit somber, perhaps?"
"Not at all. Traditional, though. I like it."
"You have good taste."
"I seem to be getting quite a reputation for good taste."
"Oh?"
"The Earl of Ferncliffe has asked me to help him re-decorate his home, myself and my aunt, that is."
"Did he indeed?" Jonathan asked, a grim expression now creeping into his eyes, eclipsing their former brightness.
"Yes, he's bringing swatches for Aunt to look over tomorrow," she said, blithely unaware of Jonathan's seething jealousy. "I'm sure she'll be able to help him, though I hope he has a goodly budget."
"I haven't got to know the Earl properly yet except to dance with. He doesn't appear to attend church," Sarah said.
"Well, he's new to the neighborhood, and might go in Bath, which is not all that far from his home and rather more fashionable for a man of his rank. It's just taking him some time to settle in, that's all."
"I imagine so," the vicar said dryly, "but one's Christian duty should never be neglected for worldly concerns. Not to mention the fact that a house of God is just that, no matter if it is deemed fashionable or provincial."
Pamela's eyes widened. "Oh, I do beg your pardon. I didn't mean--"
"Quite. But yes, I dare say he can find a more liberal interpretation of the Lord's word in a large city, and perhaps a more lively and progressive vicar than myself. One less elderly and paternal."
Pamela blushed, but he winked at her to show he was simply teasing her upon the same theme as their last time together.
"In any case, who can blame him for worldly concerns? The castle has not been lived in for a number of years. It's like something directly out of a Gothic novel. I wouldn't be at all surprised to find a dungeon, a secret room, and a skeleton or two rattling about in the dark dank passages," Jonathan said, though the small smile which played about his lips did not light his eyes.
"Really, Jonathan, you'll give Pamela morbid fancies."
"You know the Earl well, then?" Pamela asked curiously.
His face closed up further. "Let's just say that we were acquainted some time ago, before he inherited."
He rose from his seat, his coffee only half-drunk. Then he looked around. "Oh, I'm sorry. Please do forgive me."
He sat back down hastily. "I was so eager to finish my letter and thoughts for my sermon Sunday that I forgot my manners entirely."
Sarah smiled indulgently at him. "I'm not offended. I'm accustomed to your absent-minded ways. But you will scandalize Pamela if you don't behave better."
"Not at all. Please don't let me keep you." She rose, and he stood up from his chair, bowed to her and his sister, and left them alone.
Sarah watched her brother go with a fond smile. "I shall be surprised if we see him for the rest of the evening. He does get so passionate about some topics."
Pamela considered the closed door thoughtfully. "Passion can often be a good thing, though."
"Spoken like a true romantic. But it can often lead to errors in judgment. Take a young woman eloping with the wrong man, for example."
She nodded. "I agree. It can lead to ruin, scandal, and a great deal of unhappiness for all concerned."
"That is why you will be careful, won't you?" Sarah said with a worried frown. "Do forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I feel it incumbent upon me to give you the benefit of my advanced years."
"I assure you, I have no intention-"
Sarah placed her hand upon Pamela's arm. "I didn't say you would. I was just going to warn you that sometimes unscrupulous men can trick you, compromise you deliberately, the better to get hold of your fortune."
"So your brother did tell you what happened the other week," Pamela said, not sure who to be more angry with, Jonathan for telling her sister, or herself for having been so naïve in the first place.
"Jonathan said nothing. What happened? Are you all right?" Sarah asked in alarm.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Pamela hastened to reassure her. "It was Mr. Prine. Jonathan sent him packing. But if you didn't know about that, then why mention tricks and stratagems?"
She shrugged. "I've seen it happen to two of my friends, and know how unhappy it made one, and how narrowly disaster was avoided in the other instance. I know you have a sizable fortune, and will be pressured by your aunt into marrying well. That she views Bath as a golden opportunity to make a conquest."
Pamela nodded. "Yes, she does."
Sarah sighed, and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I know that she means the best for you. But an empty title, or hollow flattery, are not what's best. Marrying a man who can love, respect and esteem you is the ideal, whatever your Aunt Susan may say."
Pamela smiled. "Thank you for the advice. I'm glad I shall have you by my side for at least part of the time in Bath. I will consider it a great favor if you'll watch over me and keep me from folly."
"If you're sure you are not angry with me?" Sarah said with a timid smile.
She patted the other woman's hand. "No, I'm not angry. I feel a bit naïve and silly, but I own that I've been coming more and more to your w
ay of thinking. It's nice to be popular, but I'm sure some of the men only see me as a walking bank account."
"It's true with some men," Sarah said, toying with one of Pamela's blond curls, "but they are a fool if that's all they see, since you are very lovely, my dear. You're a wonderful girl, and in time will be a formidable woman in your own right. Often it's easy to be led into doing things by pressure, force of habit, or circumstance. I've always followed my heart, and find it to be the best guide."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 71
