Gabriel wasn’t hers to claim. But it galled her that he would so openly and inappropriately meet with a young woman unchaperoned. It simply wasn’t done. She huffed and, embracing the strong wind, strode home with a bit more force to her steps than usual. It did nothing to relieve the energy swirling inside. Disappointment with her childhood friend. Jealousy? Anger that he was not true to her as he’d claimed.
Arriving at the house, she walked around to the garden. Many of the plants were dead, yet there, on a trellis bloomed a pale pink rose. Beauty in the midst of death. She drew near and inhaled the perfume. Did she dare cut it to carry it inside, or should she allow it to succumb to the cold? Either way it would die.
The ache in her heart would not be satisfied. Blinking back tears, she walked into the house, her thoughts firmly fixed on Gabriel. She dared not reach for her heart’s desire with the death that surrounded her. Much like that rose, he bloomed with life and color in the midst of the darkness. He offered her his heart. But if she plucked it, his heart would die, too…just as the rose would if she cut it. If she wanted the vibrancy to last, she would have to be content enjoying the beauty from afar. Not that he would want anything to do with her after her unseemly outburst at dinner. His tête-à-tête with the comely Miss Deveroux indicated as much.
Not that she could blame him. Even if he were able to overlook the shame carried by her father’s choice, the fact that she had shown herself publicly to be unrefined would clearly disqualify her from being an acceptable choice for the wife of a clergyman.
She’d been surprised that Grandfather had not taken her to task for behavior at dinner. He didn’t need to. Tilly was well able to torture herself for her outspoken rudeness. She had yet to apologize to both men.
Entering her room, she cast off her cloak and hat. She patted her hair making sure her cap was in place, and made her way to Grandfather’s study. A knock on the door was followed by a soft “Come in!”
Grandfather looked up from his desk and upon seeing her put his pen back in its place and rose to his feet. “Tilly. You’ve returned from church. Did you see Mr. Morgan?”
Matilda stepped further into the room and went to the fire to warm up. “He was not there.”
Silence hung between them. Tilly turned and walked over to him. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved at dinner the other night. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me.”
Grandfather strode forward and clasped her hands in his, shaking his head. “I already forgave you. But why apologize for sharing your heart and your pain? Mr. Morgan is a shepherd, and he has come to help all of us.”
“What can he do?”
“Listen, comfort, pray, and point us back to the Hope of the world.”
She nodded and swallowed hard. “I owe him an apology, too.”
“Do as you feel you must. I admire the young man. I would not be opposed to a match between the two of you.”
She pulled her hands away. “Grandfather!” Her eyes wide, she strode away. “Is this why you chose him? You knew of our childhood friendship?”
“He approached me after he found you here. He took a leap of faith in giving up a parish closer to his family, only to find you here after the fact. It wasn’t his plan. He was honest with me about his history with you and his hopes. He spent a month fasting and praying about whether God wanted him here before he accepted the living.”
“So now even God is conspiring against me?”
Lord Hennison shook his head and drew near, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No, dear Tilly. You still have choices before you as we all do. I have my hopes and dreams. Gabriel has his, and you have yours. How God will use that for His glory, I know not.”
Tilly shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe you should ask someone who does.”
“Like who?” Jaw clenched she turned to face her grandfather. She swallowed her anger lest she say something she might regret. She didn’t need to apologize over and over when she possessed the ability to act the lady.
Grandfather pointed up.
“God?”
“Seek Him, my dear. He promises that if we draw near to Him, He will draw near to us. But beware. There is an enemy that would deny you that truth and comfort.”
Tilly walked toward the door. She had no words but glanced back at her grandfather and gave him a nod before she departed and sought her room. Her brain was a knot of thoughts that would take time to untangle.
Even if God opened her heart to Gabriel, she feared he had already moved on.
Gabriel rose and stretched early Sunday morning. Rising from bed he dropped to his knees to pray. Dearest Lord Jesus, open Mattie’s heart to Thy love again so she can walk in Thy confidence and truth. Let me be a mere reflection of Thy truth and grace as I preach Thy Word to the flock You have entrusted to me. I cannot do this without Thou. He remained on his knees for some time in silent reflection, and a sense of peace surrounded him.
He finally rose to dress. Descending the stairs and entered the kitchen to prepare and enjoy a simple breakfast as he gave his servant’s the Sabbath off. After washing his dishes, he went to his study to grab his Bible, prayer book, and notes for the service. As he strode to the church, he prayed that he would not be distracted by the young woman sitting in the front pew.
He led the prayers and finally opened God’s Word and began to expound about the wonder of the coming Messiah. Periodically he sought Mattie to see her reaction. Was he inspiring hope in spite of her circumstances? He chided himself for being distracted by her as he preached. He continued to expound on the coming King, not just at Christmas as a babe, but as He would come as the triumphant Lord of lords and King of kings. No one would escape bowing before His grandeur. Gabriel wound down his message and finished with prayer.
Dismissing the congregation, he strode to the back of the church and congregants began to line up to leave, children running out the door for the freedom to move and make noise they’d been denied inside.
Gabriel smiled at their enthusiasm.
Lord Hennison approached and shook his head at the antics of the kids as their parents tried to corral them to go home as others stood talking. “To have that energy again…”
“Life was a glorious thing and should be embraced fully,” Gabriel responded, shaking his benefactor’s hand before greeting his heart’s desire. “Miss Wilcox. Thank you again for decorating the altar. Our Lord loves beauty, and those flowers emphasized that.” He hoped his gaze told her how much he appreciated her own beauty.
“It was my pleasure. Your message today…gave me much to think about.”
“I pray for you often, Mattie,” he whispered. “I could do no less for someone I love.”
A pretty pink suffused her cheeks as she pulled her hand from his. He watched her take her grandfather’s arm and head to their carriage.
Throughout the next week, wherever Gabriel went, he’d learn that Tilly had been there before him, and he’d missed her. Any hopes of running into her were crushed. Back at Mrs. Clark’s he held little Bennett once again.
“He seems to be growing,” Gabriel noted.
“Aye, and between you and Miss Wilcox, he’s been getting more love than I alone can provide. You’ve both been good for him. Children need love and touch as much as food and water.”
Gabriel nodded. “’Tis true. So Miss Wilcox has continued to visit?”
“Almost every day she comes and brings something for me and our home. Such sorrow hangs around her, but when she holds that babe…”
“Children are a blessing.” Gabriel sighed. Was Mattie avoiding him? Did she study his schedule? It seemed that every day as he visited members of the parish, he would hear repeated tales of Miss Wilcox having visited or provided aid for some need he’d not known about. As the child snuggled in his arms, he wondered about the lad’s future. Once he was weaned, how would Lord Hennison provide care for him? Financial provisions
for the child were assured, but who would love and care for him physically when Miss Clark was done as a nurse maid?
Would Mattie raise the child? And what would happen to them when Lord Hennison, already an older man, passed on? They would be adrift in the world. How far did caring for widows and orphans extend?
Tilly deliberately avoided Gabriel. She’d learned from his cook that he spent his mornings studying and praying, so she chose those times to go about the village on her errands of mercy. She wondered if he spent time at the Deveroux home. Was he dining there and courting the young lady? As a third son, it was a respectable match, but she thought the Deverouxs might be holding out for a title and would likely be heading London in the spring for the season.
Tilly had never experienced more than local balls and entertainments. The City was a foreign land to her. She doubted she was missing much. Here in Corby was where real living took place. Where people worked and struggled week-to-week to provide and care for their families and neighbors.
She sighed as she sat doing her mending. While a maid could do such, she liked the busy work. Much better than pacing or trying to coax her mother out of her room. Only two more Sundays before Christmas Eve. She’d already started to prepare gifts for the servants for Stephen’s Day, the day after Christmas. The twelve days between Christmas and Epiphany had always been a time of celebration in their home—before the accident. This would be their first year without her father, but he’d emotionally abandoned them months before his physical death. His descent into depression had been rapid. His death—unexpected.
As if anyone anticipated death or had it scheduled into their calendar. Silly girl. Grandfather would likely remind her that God controlled when a person died. But God also gave people the opportunity to make choices. Even bad choices. How could a good God do that? She couldn’t reconcile the holy, sovereign, omniscient King of the universe, allowing bad things.
Especially when it hurt others.
Like Bennett. What had happened to his parents? They’d yet to find them and likely never would.
But I led you to him just in time.
She turned to look around. There was no one there but she could have sworn she heard a voice speaking. Now she was losing her own sanity! She recognized that melancholy plagued her as much as it did her mother. Instead of embracing and giving into it, however, she tried to bury it with busyness. Grandfather said God wanted to meet her in her pain. Well, then, where was He?
I sent you help. Take what’s offered.
She slammed her sewing into the basket at her feet and stood to look around. She hadn’t been speaking out loud, so how could someone be talking to her unseen. Or had she descended into madness?
“What help? What offer?” There was no one there, but that didn’t stop her from talking back. “True, we found Bennett, barely in time, but now what?” She stomped her foot as she’d done as a toddler trying to get her way. “Oh, I am so vexed! Show yourself!”
I did. If people didn’t accept me then, what makes you think you’d do so now?
She blinked rapidly. Her heart raced. “God?” Was God speaking to her? How could she know? Whom could she ask?
Gabriel. She closed her eyes and sank into her chair, defeated. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Please don’t make me see him. I simply couldn’t…”
Couldn’t what? Bare her soul? Confess her lack of faith? Accept his spiritual help knowing he’d already moved on to someone else. Could she really trust her friend with her broken and twisted heart?
What other choice did she have?
The next day Matilda trod to the church to decorate again. Her spirit grew heavy with every step she took. Would she see Gabriel? She equally hoped and feared so. She possessed only darkness to hand a man who lived bathed in light and grace.
She stepped into the dim church as the sun hid behind the clouds and rain threatened.
She threw out the dead flowers from last week and put the fresh ones in the vases. Was God pleased with her offering? She sat in the pew she would occupy on the morrow and closed her eyes.
Gabriel spied Matilda entering the church and finished writing some notes for the Sunday service. He set down his pen. Should he go to her? She’d obviously been avoiding him, but he wasn’t sure why. He rose with a sigh and grabbed his greatcoat, hat and gloves and walked over to the church. He slipped in the back door quietly. The flowers were arranged on the altar bringing joy into a darkened room. Had he missed her?
A sniffle directed his voice to the Hennison pew. He slowly strode forward while reaching for his handkerchief. She was still here. Hope rose in his chest even as his heart ached for her suffering. As he came alongside the bench, he cleared his throat but focused his gaze on the cross at the front of the church. He stretched out his arm and presented the cloth, and out of the corner of his eye he watched her take it from him.
A nose blew.
“May I join you?”
“It’s your church, you can do what you want,” Tilly replied with a shaky breath.
“No. The church is dedicated to God and consists of the people who make it up. This building belongs to us all.” He sat but kept several inches away from her. A shiver ran up his spine at the cold in the building. “Are you warm enough?”
She shrugged, staring down at the handkerchief as she twisted it in her hand.
“I’m a good listener,” Gabriel offered.
She nodded. “I remember. But these are not childhood ramblings that occupy my thoughts.”
“It matters not to me. I am at your disposal.”
“You are too good to me, Gabriel.”
He didn’t respond. He was afraid she’d bolt if he told her once again that he longed to have her as his wife. Slow down. Wait. That’s the message God had been telling him.
She turned toward him. “I think God is talking to me.”
Interesting. “And?”
“I don’t know. He told me to talk to you, but I don’t know if I have the courage to tell you what’s on my mind and heart.”
Compassion welled within, and he slid closer, reaching a hand to encompass one of hers. “We used to be friends, telling each other everything. Surely you realize I care and would listen. Unless you plan to tell me you’re wearing a pet chicken on your head to church tomorrow, I probably won’t laugh at you.”
She gave a small chuckle. “You always could make me laugh. You have a gift, Gabriel. Everywhere I go I hear of how wonderful you are in the way you minister to people’s emotional and spiritual needs.”
“You also have a gift, Mattie. I hear wonderful things of you of how you know just what physical needs will minister most to those around you. And you deliver those gifts personally and visit in each home, listening and loving others. Many would send a servant to do those tasks.”
She nodded. “I need to stay busy, lest I become like my mother.”
He frowned. “In what way?”
“I fight the darkness. The weight of shame at Father’s death. My utter dependence on my Grandfather, the loss of my mother to grief. I long to escape it all. When I visit others, I don’t dwell on those truths.”
“Why do you think your father’s death overshadows your own happiness?”
She left the handkerchief on her lap as her other hand clasped his, holding him tight. Her touch elicited tingles in him. He slid a little closer.
“My father didn’t love me enough to stay. My mother loved my father too much and cannot live without him. I lost her to melancholy once we found him. I’m firmly on the shelf, and when my grandfather dies, I’ll be truly alone in the world. An orphan much like little Bennett is. And what will become of him?”
“You worry about the child?”
A sniffle and nod was his answer. “I didn’t want to share all this with you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are all that is good and pure and light. And
I understand, after my unseemly display of public emotion, why you’ve moved on. There are other women around who do not carry my shame who would make a far better wife to one such as you. I don’t want my darkness to overshadow your ministry.”
“Other women? I know naught of what you speak.”
“Miss Deveroux. I saw her leaving your house last Saturday when I came to decorate the church.”
Gabriel searched his memory. “Saturday? I’d left town Friday night and spent most of Saturday in Kettering visiting with a colleague. If Miss Deveroux visited, I was not at home to receive her, nor would I without a chaperone.”
“Oh.”
“I have my own darkness, Mattie. No one goes through life unscathed, or at least very few do.”
“Really? What happened to you?”
“A few things, really. My college roommate died in a duel over a woman. We had been close friends.”
“Were you his second?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No. He knew better than to even ask it of me. He knew I would not approve.”
“You said a few things.”
“I struggled once I finished university. Where did God want me? I missed you. You were my one constant friend growing up. I guess I thought you’d always be there waiting for me when I completed my studies and was ready to be ordained. Your family had moved but I could not find where you’d gone. I wondered if you had married already. Was I too late?”
“I’ve not been nice to you. You deserve better.” A shuddering breath overcame Mattie, and he pulled his hand from her grasp to wrap it around her instead, drawing her to his side. He reached out with his other hand to hold hers.
“You were hurting. You still are.”
“But now, knowing the truth, you’ve learned how hopeless it is for there to be anything between us.”
Gabriel's Gift Page 4
