by L. E. Thomas
Tobias gave a sigh at both the interruption to some much-needed quiet time and her lack of social skills as he opened the drawing-room door with a conciliatory smile plastered on his face. This faltered somewhat when he saw that the person seated on his battered settle was none other than Lucy Holbourne.
He froze for a moment and had to repress a foolish urge to flee the room, before he gathered himself and said in an even tone that he hoped was that of a professional cleric, “Good afternoon. And how may I help you, Miss Holbourne?”
Lucy looked up at him, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Tobias,” she said shakily, “I’ve been so foolish. How can I ever make amends?”
All Tobias’ middle of the night strictures about how he would behave with cool indifference toward Lucy when they next met melted away like wax in hot sunshine.
“Oh, Lucy, my dear,” he said, walking over to the settle and sitting beside her, gathering both her hands in his, “Whatever is the matter?”
“I’ve been so awful to you, treated you so badly,” Lucy wept, “I didn’t realize until Meg came to see me and I simply had to apologize at once.”
He let go of one of her hands so she could fish out a clean handkerchief from her skirt pocket to stem the flow of tears.
“You must detest me,” she said. Only half an hour ago, he would have thoroughly agreed with her. But now, seeing her in such distress, all he felt was a tender concern.
“Oh no, Lucy, not at all,” Tobias reassured her.
She wiped her eyes and gathered herself, determined to say her piece. “I have been very selfish,” She said. “I was so wrapped up in my own feelings,” she hesitated as emotion threatened to overwhelm her, “that I did not think for a moment about how my conduct affected you.”
She gulped back a sob. “When Meg told me how much I had hurt you, I had to tell you how very sorry I am.” She gave a watery smile. “Even if it meant fibbing to my mother about where I was going.”
Tobias smiled at her, resisting the temptation to lift her hand to his lips. “That was very brave of you to risk your reputation coming to a vicarage, of all places,” he said lightly.
Encouraged, Lucy smiled weakly back at him. “It was very important for me to see you. I don’t expect you to forgive me or for things between us to be the same as they were. I know I have lost my chance with you,” she said so sadly that Tobias’ heart squeezed tightly in his chest.
“But I just had to explain, to make things right,” she hesitated and Tobias waited patiently.
“I just felt so guilty,” she said simply.
“Guilty?” Tobias echoed, momentarily confused.
Lucy looked at her lap for a second, her expression hidden by the brim of her hat. “That night at the Glossops’ was so wonderful,” she began. “What happened with you was so special and I never dreamed I would ever feel that way. The next day, I was walking on air,” she said, looking at him, her eyes glowing with real warmth. Then her smile faded.
“But after that, I started thinking about Frederick and I felt conscience-stricken.”
Tobias frowned, trying valiantly to follow the threads of Lucy’s tangled emotions. Frederick was Lucy’s former fiancé, who sadly had died of his wounds in battle during the American wars, nearly two years previously. Tobias knew it had taken Lucy a long time to face the world again after his loss, but he wasn’t quite sure what this had to do with him.
Seeing the mild bafflement in his expression, Lucy continued. “I know I have previously confessed to you before you and I became,” she hesitated, “so close. Frederick and I felt as if we were married already in our hearts and consummated our vows to each other before he left with his regiment.” Tobias just nodded and squeezed her hand encouragingly.
“Well,” she said, blushingly, “Pledging our troth to each other before he left is something I have never regretted and I value that with all my heart. But the act itself,” she glanced away shyly, “was a little uncomfortable and awkward. At the time, I knew no different and thought nothing of it but when what happened with you was so…different, I felt terrible, unfaithful, like the worst sort of strumpet,
“Lucy!” Tobias protested, thinking not only that she was being too far hard on herself but also that he had a bit of a soft spot for strumpets.
Lucy looked at him, her face full of contrition. “That is why I avoided you and for that reason only. It’s not that I had second thoughts about you or our intimacy. I simply felt so ashamed and miserable about Frederick that I couldn’t face you. My only regret is that I caused you pain,” she finished and those big blue eyes gazed up at him with such sincerity that it was all Tobias could do not to gather her into his arms.
“There was no one I could discuss this with to make me see things differently. Until Meg called round and gave me a good talking to. Then, at last, I came to my senses,” Lucy said with a faint smile.
“She told me,” Lucy continued, “that these things are a matter of practice and that if Frederick had survived and returned to me, we would have learned together, and that side of marriage,” she blushed again, “would have become enjoyable for us both. But he is gone and you are here and I must not think of what happened between the two of us as any anything other than normal and natural.”
Tobias nodded his head in dawning understanding.
“Meg said,” Lucy continued, “that rejecting you out of a sense of misplaced self-blame had no reward of virtue and would only make us both feel wretched. Your mama would have you married off to one of those poor Lowe girls before you could blink, and mine would push the suit of someone I barely liked, like that dreadfully loud military man the Farrells brought to our party in the summer,” she frowned, trying to recall a name.
“Captain Shouty?” Tobias supplied helpfully.
Lucy laughed despite herself. “Yes, someone like him. Meg told me that there was no point whatsoever in having a situation with four unhappy people.” She paused, “Well, she actually said two unhappy people and two who were completely oblivious.”
Tobias couldn’t help laughing at Meg’s inherently pithy turn of phrase.
“So, I had to come and speak with you,” Lucy said. “To explain and to apologize for behaving so badly that I have lost your regard.”
She started to shift on the settle as if, having made her confession, she was preparing to depart. Before her hand could slip out of his, Tobias gripped it more firmly.
“What makes you think you have lost my regard?” he asked.
Lucy was suddenly still. “You forgive me?” she asked incredulously.
“Lucy, my darling, I would forgive you anything,” Tobias said honestly. “Your loyalty to Frederick’s memory only shows what a truly good soul you are,” and at last he brought her hand to his lips.
“Oh, Tobias,” Lucy said, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. “I never thought…”
Tobias put his arms around her and she once again sobbed into his coat as he rubbed her back through her outer clothes and uttered soothing words of affection and comfort in her ear.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, eventually bringing up her pink and tear-stained face from his shoulder. “I always seem to be crying over you.”
“Not always,” Tobias said with a faint grin.
Lucy’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “When Meg said that I might have driven you away forever, I came to my senses. I lost Frederick to war, which could not be helped, but to throw away another chance of happiness for mere indulgent foolishness…?”
“You haven’t lost me,” Tobias said and her face was so near to his that he could not help but bring her closer for a kiss. Their lips met and all was calm for a moment until the tumult of released emotion on one side and amorous hopes renewed on the other turned the tender embrace into a somewhat fevered tussle.
Lucy’s hat was knocked askew as Tobias passionately kissed those tear-stained cheeks and tender neck where he breathed in her sweet unique scent, her fichu swept aside to displ
ay the tops of her white bosom. Their arms stayed close around each other, their hands roving and eagerly exploring.
In Tobias’ mind, the scene that they had so enjoyed rather more decorously at the Glossops’ soirée was being replayed, but with all constraints abandoned. As before, Lucy half-lay over Tobias and he kept his thigh firmly pressed between hers as she undulated against him with increasing urgency.
To help her pleasure, his hands delved under her skirts, caressing those smooth thighs above her stocking tops, and clutching the curves of her rounded bottom for purchase as she passionately reached her peak on this not-to-be-hoped-for second occasion. Lucy cried aloud with uninhibited release as Tobias lovingly nipped her neck, reveling in her joy.
They lay still together, caught up in the moment, gathering their composure. Tobias felt completely content to have reclaimed his sweetheart and to have her safe and satisfied in his arms.
He was about to say as much when, with no warning, the drawing-room door was flung open. The churchwarden stood there, Mrs. Slack hovering in the hallway behind him, taking in the outrageously licentious scene before them. That good man’s face went sheet white with shock, then fiery red with indignation before he started to open his mouth to berate the scandalous pair, no doubt in the strongest terms imaginable.
With a hitherto unsuspected sang-froid, Tobias flicked the disarranged dress down over Lucy’s revealed lower limbs and gently easing her from him, stood up. He made sure to keep her hand firmly in his so she rose with him. In this way, they approached their outraged accuser before he could begin his harangue.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Eels,” Tobias said jovially as if this encounter was by appointment and entirely expected. “You do know Miss Holbourne, don’t you? Or should I say, the future Mrs. Tobias Whitmore? We rather seem to have become engaged. You can be the first to congratulate us.”
Chapter 10
Eighteen months later…
Tobias sat on the sofa contentedly sipping his wine, pleasantly weary after a full remit of parish ministering. Leaning back, he surveyed the cozy domestic scene before him.
His dear wife, Lucy was finishing the last of the household sewing for the day, her hair gleaming softly in the lamplight. Meanwhile, their baby son of nearly five months gurgled and cooed to himself in his cot, having just been fed.
As he did every evening about this time, Tobias took another mouthful of wine and counted his many blessings.
He reflected that after he and Lucy had been caught virtually in flagrante by Mr. Eels, his interfering and morally superior churchwarden (on the vicarage settle, no less), Tobias had grasped the nettle, as such, and had directly accompanied Lucy back to her home in the next town.
As a pre-emptive strike, on entering the Holbourne residence, Tobias had asked Lucy’s father for a private and formal word. Meanwhile, Lucy went straight to find her mother. In this way, the matter of their engagement was respectably settled before any salacious gossip could darken their door.
Although delighted, the announcement was of no great surprise to Lucy’s family. She and Tobias had been seen as an almost-established couple in the locality for some weeks. Also, no one but Lucy and Tobias (and their good friend Meg) was aware of their temporary estrangement before their hectic and rapturous reconciliation on the vicarage appliance.
Lucy’s mother immediately launched into plans for the nuptials, uneasy that her unfathomable daughter might dally or even change her mind if things were not firmly fixed and soon. Tobias had also dutifully written to his parents to inform them of his happy news. A brief reply from his papa showed only congratulatory good wishes.
The missive from his mother was considerably longer and contained many detailed instructions. Tobias thought that the overriding impression was of outright relief, Mrs. Whitmore having been anxious for some time to have her youngest son married, established, and primed for ecclesiastical promotion.
Reading between the lines, he perceived her very real worry that he might let this prime opportunity, in the delightful form of Lucy, slip through his indecisive fingers. Like his betrothed’s mama, his mother was also in haste to have the wedding done and over with. But in her case was the concern that, given sufficient time, Tobias would manage to make a mess of things and the prime prize of Miss Holbourne might fall to another young hopeful at least as undeserving as him.
The newly plighted couple had no complaints about this flurry of organization, as not only were they in love, but both were admittedly eager to finish what had been started on the ecumenical fittings. Two months later, Tobias found himself in Lucy’s parish church, surrounded by both of their families and officiated over by the Canon, no less, and as a result, was gladly saddled with a spouse.
The formalities and wedding breakfast over with, they were free and clear to return to the vicarage and left in peace to demonstrate their mutual affection on the infamous settle or any piece of furniture they chose within the household bounds, without any risk of censure.
So enthusiastic were they in exercising their new-found release that Tobias reflected that it was not entirely surprising that Jamie (named for both proud grandfathers), was born well within twelve months of the wedding. His arrival heralded a virtual cessation of frolics since poor Lucy was up for much of the night tending to the baby. Tobias was now in the habit of creeping out of their bedroom in the early morning, so as not to disturb his small family, once they were finally slumbering.
Tobias mused that all the changes in his life were for the better as a direct result of his marriage. The back parlor in which they were sitting, previously so gloomy-looking that Tobias had never really ventured into it, had been transformed into a comfortable family sitting room in which they could retire privately.
On taking hold of the household reins, and armed with the generous jointure from her father, Lucy had swiftly hired two competent maids from the town who came in daily. Rather than being miffed by this timely incursion into her territory, Tobias’ notoriously lackadaisical housekeeper seemed to take this a promotion. Mrs. Slack delighted in bossing around her perceived menials and was even seen to do some work on occasion.
Tobias now came home to a clean, organized house and a decent meal, as well as a happy wife and a beaming son. Life could not be better, he thought, as Lucy bit off the thread of her final piece of sewing and put the garment on the pile. With that, she came over and sat beside him.
He passed her his wine glass, and after she took a sip, he could not help to notice the fetching red stain on her parted lips. So kissable were they, that Tobias did not resist, and one such tribute led to another and the embrace became more than purely affectionate before Lucy breathlessly pushed him away.
Smiling, she brushed her fingers over his lips and said, “I’m sorry, my love. I’m so tired these days. And with Jamie being still so little, I’m not ready to add to our family quite yet.”
Tobias still felt the hum of passion thrumming through his veins. “We could do other things?” he inquired hopefully.
Lucy’s smile grew wider. “I know that full well and you do other things very nicely. But to be honest, my darling husband, when I go to bed at night, all I want to do is sleep.”
Tobias noticed the dark rings under Lucy’s pretty eyes and felt like a brute.
“We’ll employ extra help. We can afford it if I economize a little,” Tobias said, apropos of nothing.
“I know we can,” Lucy agreed, refilling their shared wine glass, “And once Jamie is a bit bigger, I will need someone to help watch him. But for the meantime, even if I am busy with the baby, being a vicar’s wife and managing the house, it is so nice to have a home without a gaggle of servants bothering us.” Handing the glass to him, she looked at him earnestly. “Be a little patient with me, Tobias,” She said. “This is not about a lack of love or desire for you.” And she gave him a taste of her sweet lips that was almost chaste.
She sighed contentedly and put her head on his shoulder. “I promise I
won’t keep you waiting too long, my dear. I don’t want you to be open to the wiles of the likes of Venetia Wood,” she added darkly.
Tobias almost sprang away from his comely partner in alarm, which elicited a giggle. Venetia Wood (who according to local gossips, certainly would) was an alleged widow who had arrived relatively recently in the town and his parish apparently for the express purpose of causing controversy in hitherto completely placid marriages.
Having created ructions, she then abandoned each conquest and moved onto the next victim, leaving marital chaos in her wake. So pernicious was her reputation, that rumor had it, any previous husband must have been buried in the back garden.
Her behavior had caused such moral alarm in a short space of time that Tobias felt compelled to construct a sermon around the subject of the sanctity of marriage. Unfortunately, Mrs. Wood decided to attend church that Sunday and sat in one of the front pews with a barely concealed cynical smirk on her face throughout. When Tobias had finished his address and was about to descend the pulpit steps, she caught his eye and gave him such an exaggerated wink that he nearly tripped over his surplice. He had studiously avoided her ever since.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, my love,” Lucy continued, “But I certainly have no faith in that woman.” This was said with such scorn that for an unnerving moment his gentle wife sounded exactly like his implacable mother.
With a shudder, Tobias took another gulp of wine to calm his nerves at the thought of Madam Wood waving her pernicious tendrils toward him, as Lucy nestled back into his side.
“So,” she continued, “I’ve been talking to Meg.”
“Oh?” said Tobias, slightly warily.