“I’ll remind you, Papa.”
“And what about money?” Laurel asked. “Did you pack that?”
Absently the man patted the shirt over his stomach, where his breastcoat pocket would have been located, had he been wearing one. Meanwhile it appeared unlikely that the hen would be carved before dessert. “Oh yes. It’s upstairs in my bureau. Laurel, please make sure I have that before I leave.”
“What about Mrs. Hollis, Vicar?” Jonathan could not resist teasing. “Should someone remind you to bring her along tomorrow?”
Vicar Phelps chuckled appreciatively and pointed the carving fork at him. “That, Jonathan, can be your responsibility. But somehow I don’t think you’ll have to exercise it.”
“What would you like us to bring you from London?” Julia asked her daughters after reading to them from the fairy tale book. Though she and Andrew planned to shop for Christmas presents while there, she wanted their children to have mementos they could enjoy as soon as they returned. The evening had a poignant quality about it, partly because this would be the last time she would tuck them into bed in the Larkspur. It was within these walls that she had fully come to understand what it meant to invest herself in the lives of her children.
“Would a heart-shaped locket be asking for too much?” Aleda asked.
Julia smoothed auburn hair from her daughter’s forehead. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”
Grace had a to think for a minute. “Are there still toy stores there?”
“Certainly there are. What kind of toy would you like?”
“Something that winds up and moves? Like a bear who plays a drum?”
“A windup toy it is.” The faces that stared back at her from their pillows were so sweet and trusting that Julia longed to stay for a little while and smooth their hair and tell them how loved they were. But tomorrow would be a busy day for all of them. “Now remember to obey Mrs. Beemish and Mr. Jensen while I’m gone. And wear your woollies to school every day.”
“And clean our teeth and wash our faces?” Grace supplied helpfully.
Julia smiled. “That would be nice too.”
Philip would have been mortified had she attempted to read to him, but he was willing for her to sit at his bedside for a chat instead of her usual good-night from the doorway. He asked for a set of draughts pieces so that he did not have to improvise with his chessmen whenever he had company. “And we’ll have to leave the other draughts game in the hall anyway, or Mr. Durwin and Mr. Ellis won’t be able to play.”
“Will you miss living here?”
He glanced around the room, resting his head upon the arm propped upon his pillow. “I dreamt of this room a lot when I was away at school. And the hall, and even the kitchen. But I think it was the people I was missing most. You and the girls and everyone else. I don’t think I’ll mind living at the vicarage. And we can visit here anytime we like, right?”
“As long as we’re considerate of the servants and Mr. Jensen,” she replied, resisting the urge to smooth his hair as she had Aleda’s. “The Larkspur still belongs to us, Philip.”
“Good.” He lapsed into silence for several seconds, then asked, “You don’t mind marrying Vicar Phelps, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
A line formed between his eyebrows. “You aren’t marrying him just so we can have a father, are you? I mean, I know he’ll be a good father, but you shouldn’t let that be the only reason.”
“I’m marrying him because I love him, Philip. But since you ask … I would never, never marry a man who couldn’t be a good father to my children, no matter how I felt about him.”
“Oh.” He looked relieved. “Then it all works out just fine, doesn’t it?”
She could no longer resist, but he only smiled long-sufferingly while she combed her fingers through his red hair. “Just fine indeed, Philip.”
After supper, Elizabeth and Jonathan played whist with her father and sister at the parlor tea table while her grandmother sat on the sofa perusing a copy of The Art Journal. Her father did not rattle on as he had at supper. Either Mrs. Paget’s cooking, Jonathan’s joke, or simply having to devote himself to the strategy of the game had soothed his nerves. Or perhaps a combination of all three.
She and Laurel had discussed thoroughly how it would be to have their family more than double in size and had both concluded that the drawbacks—such as sharing their father’s attention as well as time in the water closet—would be more than compensated for by having a mother and siblings around. Life certainly would not be boring!
And there was another reason Elizabeth was particularly glad—one that she had not felt ready to share with Laurel. She was certain that she would marry Jonathan Raleigh one day. Knowing that she was not drastically cutting down the size of her family would make leaving home easier on her conscience.
During the two weeks since the archery tournament she and Jonathan had taken other walks. Twice Jonathan had proposed, and twice Elizabeth had said she needed more time—not because she did not want to marry him—but because she wanted so much for everything to go right this time. She felt the need to be overly cautious. In the quiet of her room when she sought God’s counsel, He seemed to be telling her that there was still something lacking. She had no idea what it was but had to trust that God would reveal it to her at the proper time.
It was only after her father won the match—a victory they had orchestrated by unspoken agreement as sort of a pre-wedding gift—that Jonathan looked at his watch and whistled softly through his teeth. “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was after ten.”
“You couldn’t very well leave the match, now, could you?” her father asked as he and Laurel gathered the cards. “By the way, I know that you all conspired to let me win.” He grinned at their half-hearted protests and said, “I played as rotten a game as humanly possible to try to thwart your plans, but you were even worse. No wonder it took so long.”
And then he did a curious thing. Looking up at Elizabeth, he said, “Be sure and take your wrap outside and be back in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Jonathan whispered to her in the vestibule after bidding good evening to her family.
Elizabeth wound the shawl he handed her from the coatrack around her shoulders, whispering back, “Papa only allowed Paul Treves ten minutes.”
“I wasn’t complaining. I was just startled that—” His eyebrows rose. “Only ten? Really?”
“You let him win at whist, remember?”
They stepped out into a cold dark night bereft of stars. A low fog wrapped gauzy fingers in all directions, eerily shrouding the gravestones of the churchyard in the distance. But Elizabeth’s mood was not somber. It had been a fine day, and tomorrow would be an even better one.
At the end of the porch, Jonathan turned to face her and took both hands. “I’ve longed for this moment all evening, Elizabeth.”
She smiled. Even though she had delayed her answer to his proposal, she was not opposed to being kissed by him. Raising her chin just a little, she said, “You have?”
He made no move closer as he continued to talk with his eyes shining. “This afternoon I met with the school board at the Bow and Fiddle. They feel pressed to begin a search for a teacher for next year but wanted to see if I would possibly consider staying.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re considering it, Jonathan?”
“I’m more at peace here than I’ve ever been in my life, Elizabeth. I enjoy seeing a child’s expression as he reads his first sentence, knowing that I helped to bring that about. Or having a student ask what causes thunder. Or watching a face glow simply because I praised a composition or sketch. It’s so wonderful knowing that all of this was accomplished only by the grace of God and without any family connections.”
“Then you have your answer, haven’t you?” And I have mine as well, she realized, for it was as if some last remaining obstacle was fading away in her mind.
“Almo
st,” he replied, now looking a little worried. “I wanted to find out how you felt about it first. After all, I initially moved here against your wishes.”
She shook her head. “Things have changed since then. Of course I would like you to stay.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” He glanced toward the door and sent a breath between his teeth. “Ever wish you could freeze time?”
“Not until now,” she replied, smiling. “But if you talk fast, you may be able to squeeze in another proposal.”
“Another …” Utter surprise took over his face. “You would say yes?”
“That’s not how it works, Jonathan. You have to propose before I give my answer.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Will you make me the happiest man alive, Elizabeth Phelps?”
“Gladly, Jonathan Raleigh.”
“Oh, Elizabeth!” In spite of the passion in his voice, he gathered her gently into his arms as if she were a fragile doll. Automatically she raised her chin and closed her eyes. His lips were warm and sweet upon hers. When their lips parted and she opened her eyes again, his face was radiant, almost glowing. It took her a second, lightheaded as she was, to realize it was caused by rays of lamplight shining from the window.
“Oh,” she said, releasing her arms from his shoulders. “I have to go.”
He looked disappointed but nodded. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” With a glance at the door, he added, “I assume this isn’t a good time to speak with your father.”
“He’s nervous enough as it is. Do you understand?”
“Of course. But when does he return?”
“In nine days.”
“I’ll speak with him then.” Another kiss, this time hurried, and Jonathan bounded down the steps. He turned to grin and wave before the darkness swallowed him up completely. “We’ll be sure to play whist first!”
“Will you, Andrew Royden Phelps, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Bishop Edwards asked in the front of Saint Jude’s the next morning. The filled-to-capacity church was decorated appropriately for the Christmas season with branches of holly and fir, red velvet bows, and rows of flickering candles.
Seated at the end of the first pew with Laurel, Grandmother, and the Hollis children, Elizabeth felt goose prickles as her father, looking quite handsome in a new black suit, answered, “I will.” Two small words, spoken with such gravity as if he were verbally chiseling them in stone. And yet his expression was anything but grave. She could see even from the side that he stared at his wife-to-be with blatant adoration and joy across his face.
She had been happy from the first when her father and Mrs. Hollis announced their engagement. Even older people needed companionship, and the affection between the two was obvious. But she had never considered that the romance that made her pulse quicken whenever Jonathan smiled at her was just as strong in her father’s heart. And from the way Mrs. Hollis, looking lovely in an ecru silk appliquéd with lace, smiled back at him, it was obvious that her heart was just as overwhelmed.
“Julia Mansfield Hollis, will you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I will.”
Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hand as her father placed the ring upon Mrs. Hollis’s finger. She heard sniffs coming from all directions behind her. Even her grandmother was wiping her eyes. Her father could have married years earlier, Grandmother had told her last night with not a little reproach in her voice, had he given any encouragement to the women who pursued him in Cambridge.
Yet he waited for the better thing, not even knowing when he would find it. He had trusted that God had a plan and knew that settling for second-best was not part of it. Because of his example, she had been able to restrain herself from rushing into another relationship with Jonathan before the appropriate time.
They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles. Elizabeth had heard her father read those words from the book of Isaiah countless times over the years without fully understanding their meaning. Now she understood and would one day teach them to her children as she had been taught.
She gave her full attention back to the ceremony before her.
“Now that Julia Mansfield Hollis and Andrew Royden Phelps have given themselves to each other in the sight of God and by solemn vows, and with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder.”
“Amen,” Elizabeth said with the rest of the congregation.
“God the Father, God the Holy Spirit, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you, and fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace; that you may faithfully live together in this life, and in the age to come have life everlasting.”
After the last congregational Amen, Bishop Edwards smiled. “You may kiss your bride.” Now Elizabeth became aware that there were tears in her own eyes as she watched her father take his new wife’s shoulders in his hands. She leaned forward just a bit to send a smile to her new brother and sisters. All three smiled back with their eyes shining as well. The kiss was appropriately brief for a vicar in front of his own congregation, but Elizabeth felt a strong certainty, watching his eyes as they drew apart, that there would be dozens more exchanged before sunset.
Table of Contents
The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter
Also by Lawana Blackwell
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
About the Author
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter Page 52
