After the service, Edward drew Betsy from her seat and kept her beside him as those in attendance filed out. She graciously introduced him to those who regularly attended. Her smile was infectious, eliciting return smiles.
Yes, this lady was quite a woman. Still and all...
* * *
Betsy knew her smile wobbled as Edward handed her into his worn rig. The gray stretched his head and seemed eager to be gone. Surprisingly, the animal had been left alone outside the church, even without someone watching the rig. She glanced up. Someone certainly watched out for the man. She recalled her escape not so long past. Maybe God watched out for one silly young woman, as well.
“Thanks, Lord,” she murmured quietly as she settled on the seat. She held on as Edward leaped behind the gray and took up the reins.
“I trust you can lead us back to civilization?”
She nodded, wondering why her throat felt tight. The man beside her was a saint, a man of God, and she’d had thoughts that were far from spiritual about him. Oh dear, she thought, I must not think of him like that. What would he see in her anyway, but the friend of his younger sister?
With an unsteady hand, she directed him until they made it safely back to a more familiar thoroughfare. “I must take you home, Miss Carrington.”
“Betsy, please. We went over this.” Why so formal? His tone brought unease to her middle.
“As you wish—Betsy.” He paused a long, too-long, moment. They tooled along for a time, neither speaking. Betsy sensed Edward mulled something over and feared what he might say.
The silence overwhelmed her. “You reached their hearts.”
Edward glanced at her and away. “God spoke through me. They are beloved of our Savior and no different from you or I, but for the status of their birth.”
“I know, but...” Betsy did not like feeling he reprimanded her. “Other ministers are, well, too pompous by half.”
Edward’s lips tightened and Betsy sensed he chose to keep his uncomplimentary thoughts to himself. Betsy forged ahead. “Will you come again?”
This time, Edward caught her eye. “I have to think on that. Depends on my other obligations before I return to India.”
She had wondered about his future and hoped he’d make a home with Angella. Now she realized her hopes were nothing more than fantasy. Her heart sank. “You are not staying in England?”
“I cannot. God called me to India.” He sighed. “The need is so great.” He steered the gray over to the left to avoid a cabriolet being tooled far too fast for the road and traffic conditions. Thinking she recognized the personages in the other vehicle, Betsy averted her head until they passed by.
She almost missed his next words. “I have business to handle here first.” After a long moment, Edward said, “I might consider preaching again on one condition.”
“Which is?” Betsy wiped sweaty palms on her gown.
“You must promise never, ever to go to that part of town without an escort. And...” His gaze narrowed, though his lips turned up ever so slightly, as he continued. “For you that does not mean a hackney cabdriver.”
Betsy hung her head. “I admit it was a rather wet-goose thing to do.”
“Very havey-cavey. We explored this earlier. For all I am glad I was on hand when you needed me, I wish it had not been necessary. Had I arrived a moment or two later...”
Betsy glanced at him and away, hoping he’d drop the subject. He didn’t.
“Do you promise?” So he noticed she tried to avoid the promise.
“La, you win.” She sighed. “I promise I will not go to the mission by myself.”
“Or without proper escort.” Edward’s expression remained firm.
Betsy parroted, “Or without proper escort.”
“All right, then.” Again the brief pause. Betsy sensed his relief. “Mayhap next time I might escort you and your mother.”
Betsy caught her breath. “I’d like that.” A smile sparkled her eyes. “I’d like that very much.”
* * *
Edward’s hold on the reins tightened. When she turned that smile on him with those big brown eyes...The gray nodded his head and slowed. Realizing what he was doing, Edward let the reins slip through his fingers, giving the gray his head and the signal to keep moving. This woman was so much more than his memories, his dreams.
He sent up a prayer of thanks that she’d agreed to always have an escort. That greatly relieved his mind. He wanted to slap his forehead, though. What had possessed him to offer his services as her escort? The lady had prospects and he was sure he would not be considered among those prospects. Her parents would surely show the door to a poor missionary.
Still and all, though unintended, he had compromised her. He noted her ducked head when the cabriolet went by. That incident increased the possibility that someone of her status witnessed her driving with him—alone. Inside he groaned.
He must settle the situation between them, and the prospect left him queasy.
Chapter 8
Betsy could tell from his expression that Edward mulled something over in his mind, and she half feared what it might be. Unable to wait, and knowing the answer, Betsy asked, “Have you made contact with your sister, Angella?”
Edward’s frown deepened. He glanced at her and away. The deep anger in his eyes bothered her. Angella had reason for concern about her brother.
“Not yet,” was all he said, though from the tightness of his shoulders and the death grip on the reins, Betsy sensed something seriously amiss. She considered telling him that he would be taking her to the very place her sister resided. In fact, she was about to speak when she started at Edward’s growl.
“I shall find her soon enough, and when I do, I shall know what that cousin of yours has been about.”
Betsy’s gaze narrowed at the implied accusation. She straightened. “Just what might you mean by that statement? Sounds like you accuse my cousin of something havey-cavey.”
“I have my reasons.” Edward stared straight ahead.
“Care to share what Spensor has done to raise your ire?”
Betsy sensed his tension and gritted her teeth. Getting information out of the man set her on edge. When Edward shook his head, she asked again, “What reasons might those be?” Betsy kept her tone deliberately calm and low, though her anger rose.
She took note they had left behind the hastily, badly constructed structures and now drove by more solid dwellings of those who labored for a living as shoemakers, milliners and more. Before long, she would need to provide directions.
“Do you really know Lucashire, know his reputation?” Edward did not wait for her to reply. “I have asked about him. He has been quite the man about town, indulging in many of the less than upstanding pursuits of his peers.”
Betsy knew and had no defense, except Spensor was not that man any longer—not since Angella. A small smile turned up her lips. “You refine too much on the tittle-tattle of jealous tabbies.”
“Maybe so.” Edward seemed to consider this. “But he took in my sister. You knew this, did you not?”
Betsy shifted in the seat. When a breeze picked up the edges of her gown, she carefully tucked it around her before answering, “Not at the time.”
Edward’s frown, which had eased, now deepened. “So he did take her in...and without a chaperone.”
What could she say? “So I heard. But it is not as you imagine.” Betsy tried to make him see beyond his fears. “Spensor is a good man.”
“So you say. What man would refuse an innocent the protection of a companion or at least a chaperone? The man is a rake out to make sport of my innocent sister.” Edward gulped and glared over at her. “I cannot hold that you stand up for him.”
Betsy sat up. “Stop right there, Reverend Denning. That is q
uite enough. Spensor is not a rake, and if he partook of what his society offered, it is because he...” Betsy wasn’t sure how to continue. She lived primarily in the country, where her parents had greatly sheltered her. When she did interact with her cousin, he played her gallant. She knew this other person existed, but she’d never witnessed that side of her cousin.
“See, you have no defense. I have to find Angella before the man destroys her forever. No telling what liberties he has taken.”
“Fustian! Spensor would not think to do such as what you accuse him of.” She so wished to tell him about Angella and Spensor, but something held her in check.
“I know how you hold him in high esteem, but the man sent off his fiancée so he could make sport of my sister.”
Was not this exactly what Angella feared? Oh dear. “Stuff and nonsense! You have been listening to some Banbury tales for sure. He did nothing of the sort.” Betsy frowned at the man beside her. What happened to the godly man who made her feel humble by comparison?
Edward frowned back. “I know you wish to think the best of your cousin and all, but...”
She would not let go. “And you, mister godly minister, are determined to think the worst of the situation when you really know nothing, nothing at all.”
“I know what the vicar of Little Cambrage told me. He was most concerned.”
“You have no idea!” Betsy recalled Angella’s story about the “concerned” vicar. “You would rather take the word of that lascivious vicar than trust your sister? Do you have any idea what the man is like, what he did to your sister?”
Edward winced and glanced away. “I’ve been told some of what he did to Angella.”
“If she was so brave as to be branded an evil woman and banned from the village in which she grew up rather than accept that dreadful vicar’s proposal, do you believe God would send someone worse to rescue her? Why, why...” Betsy spread out her arms as she spoke. “That would be like that awful peer rescuing me from you, rather than the other way around.”
“Not quite the same, but I see your point.” Edward winced and pain filled his eyes. “She may not have had any choice after he took her to Lucashire Hall.” He choked on the last word.
Betsy almost—almost—felt sorry for him. “Fustian! You really believe the fiddle-faddle the vicar fed you? Let me tell you—”
Edward gave her little opportunity. “Dash it all! I did not like the vicar above half. Yet what else am I to believe? Lady Margaret confirmed everything he said...and more. What she said...” Edward shook his head. “When I get hold of Lucashire, I’ll discover the truth.”
“Stuff and nonsense, Edward. I believe you have already made up your mind about the situation.”
Edward clamped his mouth shut, then growled, “If he has harmed Angella...”
“You’ll what? Come on, Edward, you’ll what?” Betsy reached for his arm and found it hard with tension. “You must stop this. Lady Margaret is not the most reliable of witnesses. She was only after Spensor’s deep pockets. From what I understand, he had already sought a reason to discontinue their less-than-amicable engagement.”
“And you, Betsy, will not realize what is right there to see. Angella had no place to go but to Lucashire Hall, and your cousin took advantage of her.”
Betsy had not realized how deeply the situation angered Edward.
His expression held fury, and the hands holding the reins were white with his grip. The gray slowed, threw up his head and jerked until Edward released his death grip.
“He did nothing to dishonor your sister.” Betsy’s hold on her temper faded at the insufferable stubbornness of the man she’d prayed for since she was in the schoolroom.
Her fury matched his. Hands on her hips, Betsy told him, “You presume way too much, Reverend.” Betsy had about had enough of the man’s assumption that her cousin was guilty of the charges leveled against him. The man she had prayed for and dreamed about for the past four years had crumbled into someone she did not know, or even want to know. She did decide she was not about to give him Angella’s direction until she could warn both her and her cousin of Edward’s state of mind.
“She lived with him, for months, alone. It is not done.”
Betsy spoke slowly and enunciated clearly as though speaking to a child. “Fustian! You dishonor not only my cousin, but also your sister and your faith. You act as though God was not part of this.”
“Well, people make choices.”
“Yes, they do, Edward, and you are making all the wrong ones.”
“She was alone with him for months.”
“As her guardian and with a houseful of servants. An army could live at Lucashire Hall and scarcely run into one another.”
“She was alone....” She heard the forlorn note in Edward’s tone.
“That, Reverend, does not mean he hurt her in any way. Things aren’t always what they seem. Do not blame Lucashire for your failure to be on hand when your parents died.”
This seemed to confuse Edward, and a twitch started in his cheek. “Mayhap. Yet...all that time with him...”
“True. Just what complexion would be placed on me being alone with you all afternoon, Edward? Have you taken advantage of me?”
“I rescued you!”
“Yes, you did, and for that I thank you. My cousin also rescued your sister. But someone coming along right now might come to another conclusion, might they not?”
Edward actually colored. “I did not, never would, would not think...”
Betsy jerked her jacket more firmly around her. “That’s the problem, Edward, you aren’t thinking. I thought you were such a man of God. But no, you hie off, making accusations you cannot prove.” Betsy felt her own anger war with sympathy as she sensed guilt in Edward that he had not been near to help his sister when she most needed his help. Still, she tried to get Edward to see truth. “I believe you want my cousin to be guilty. What about mercy, grace and waiting for the truth before making judgments?” She had the audacity to poke him.
“I prayed for you all these years you’ve been gone. Guess those prayers were wasted.”
Edward sucked in a breath. “You prayed for me?”
“I did. Every day.”
“Oh.” The fire seemed to seep out of him like air from the lungs of someone who got punched.
Silence descended momentarily. “I will give what you said about your cousin some thought. I will try to reserve judgment...for now.”
Betsy sighed. One disaster had momentarily been averted, though she no longer trusted the man and tried to think of some way not to have him take her to Alistair House.
She was so deep in thought, she almost missed the direction of his words. “What!”
“You are right about us being out alone so long a time.” He pulled the rig under a tree near a gated park and stopped. Reaching over, he took her nearest hand in his. She felt a slight tremor in his hand.
Edward cleared his throat, coughed and again cleared his throat. “Betsy Carrington, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Joy leaped inside for a flash until reality set in. “What are you saying?” Betsy surveyed Edward’s face for a hint of emotion. She witnessed concern in his blue eyes and firmness at the set of his jaw. She’d watched Spensor with Angella, and Edward’s expression held little in common with the way her cousin gazed at her friend. Something else was going on here, and she tensed.
While Betsy bit her lip waiting for him to speak, Edward gulped and cleared his throat one more time. “I—I should have taken you home immediately. Instead, I drove you back to the mission and have spent most of the afternoon with you unchaperoned.”
“Fustian! Nothing untoward happened.” Betsy found herself getting downright impatient with the man she had held in deep affection for so long. “Poppycock. No one
is going to think I’m beyond the pale for spending time riding with a minister of the gospel, a missionary. It is done, you realize.”
“Not this long and not without others around.” Edward’s cheek twitched. “I fear my desire to complete my mission, and, and...” He hesitated before plunging on. “To spend time with a lovely young woman from my past quite overset my better judgment.”
Again the compliment on her looks. If he continued in that vein, he might well turn her head. She found it difficult to stay at sword points with the man who viewed her in such a fashion. “Stuff and nonsense, Edward, why the proposal? Take me home. No will be the wiser for my little adventure.”
Edward hesitated, again, and Betsy wished he’d hurry up and say what was obviously on his mind. She sighed as he continued. “Even so, I have no wish to besmirch your reputation. Not in any way. Who knows who might have seen us out together, heading into an area no gentleman would take a gently bred lady?” His sigh stirred her anger as he continued. “I see no option but that we marry. I do not have much, but...”
Betsy stared at him, forcing back the tears tickling her eyes. Her dearest dream had just become a nightmare. “Have done, Reverend Edward Denning. Stop right now. I am quite—quite out of count...conten...ance with—with you.” She meant to be harsh. Instead, she felt the tears she tried to hold back slide down her cheeks.
* * *
Edward had no idea how to go on. He felt helpless in the face of Betsy’s tears. Part of him wanted to run as far and fast as he could away from the situation. Another part of him wished to put an arm about her and hold her close. His indecision kept him frozen in place. He witnessed the sadness, confusion and worse—the crumbling of her respect for him. It stabbed like pain inside. He swallowed, gulped and stared at the woman who had warmed his heart and held sway in his dreams for so long.
Everything she said filtered through his mind as he sat unable to move. Betsy’s defense of her cousin gave him food for thought, though he felt she refined too much of what she knew of Spensor. Surely the vicar, even if he did not care overmuch for the man, had legitimate concerns. As for Lady Margaret... Her manner did leave him uneasy. Still and all, she had called off the engagement and that had to mean something havey-cavey must have been going on. Helpless, hopeless anger still burned inside, though Betsy’s words had an effect—more than she might realize.
The Lady's Hero Page 9
