"I would like to take the opportunity to say now that I'm greatly indebted to you both for warning me about the error of my ways. I find myself far less inclined to be dazzled by worldly concerns now. I apologize for being so churlish a few weeks ago. You were right. It's not good for me to associate with companions who lack principle and seek nothing but pleasure at the expense of others. Gambling and, well, wenching, for example." She blushed. "There is nothing fashionable in ruining people."
Sarah patted her on her arm. "I'm glad. Thank you for mending our quarrel by coming to visit. There are few women in this district whom I feel I could call a true friend without reservation. I would like to think we can be, given time."
Pamela smiled. "I'd like that very much. And look forward to getting to know the other ladies in your set much better."
Sarah moved over to the other side of the row of books to right the ones which had been scattered willy-nilly. "You'll like Vanessa, I promise. You can't fail to be impressed with Charlotte Eltham, and Thomas's sister Elizabeth. Charlotte is not so very different from you in the way she was raised. But life's experiences have rendered her into tempered steel, fit for any challenge. I shall look forward to seeing you like that one day."
Pamela laughed self-consciously. "Right now I even have my doubts about taking on reading lessons, let alone the ills of the world."
"Poverty and illiteracy are two of them, so you already are."
Jonathan had come up in time to hear their last exchange. "Indeed, yes, Miss Ashton. You've set yourself the challenge, and so simply must prevail. Onward, Christian soldiers. The church hall awaits."
He offered an arm to each of them, and together they strolled to the long, low thatched building. Pamela felt as though she were walking on air as he praised her and made her feel as if she were the most interesting and noble woman he had ever met.
"I'm so pleased and proud," he said, smiling down at her so warmly her heart lurched. "Anything else you want, please don't be shy."
Pamela looked over the books, chalks and slates which he had provided, and the tables and chairs which had been set up at the front of the hall, screened off from the rest of it. He had also gathered several chests full of toys and children's clothes in a variety of sizes. The chests were arranged in a semi-circle to keep them from running wild throughout the hall.
He gave her a list of helpers, and her roster of pupils. She was pleased to see how many of the local gentry had volunteered to help, and that the list included Jonathan and Sarah.
"It's good of you to give up your time."
"It's the least I can do," Jonathan replied with a shrug.
"Not really, when you already do so much."
"Ah well, I need to lead by example. I hope that others in the parish will help out as and when they can, if not with teaching, then with useful items such as books or money."
"I'm sure they shall."
He smiled at her. "It will be a sure thing if you only keep at it long enough, so that people may see how useful it is."
She picked up one of the books. "Well, everyone should be able to read the Bible themselves, should they not?"
"Yes, of course, and to read a newspaper, and do sums."
She shook her head, having assumed that she would be teaching reading only. "Oh dear. I had not thought of that at all, Mr. Deveril. Even I find it a struggle to do sums."
"I shall teach you some tricks of the memory which will help you recall your multiplication tables, and that will make it easier," he offered.
"I would like that," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry to sound so foolish. I was always much better at literature, history and languages. I'm not nearly so much of a dolt as you think me."
He smiled at her almost tenderly. "Never a dolt, Miss Ashton."
"But I shall wager anything you like that you were never bad at anything at school."
He laughed heartily at that. "Ah, you would lose that wager. I was an irrepressible wag. I might have been superb at academic subjects, but I was a rather outspoken and boisterous chap."
Sarah giggled. "Indeed. Quite a harum-scarum lad. Our older sisters were terrified he might scare off their beaux, he was so fiercely intelligent and rather sarcastic."
"Ah, but every decent brother in the world is duty-bound to protect his sisters," Pamela said with a smile. "They ought to believe that few men are good enough for them."
Sarah and Jonathan suddenly stopped laughing.
Pamela looked at the pair in alarm.
The vicar's face was almost white. He swallowed hard, and his grin became a grimace. "However, it's not always easy to protect one's flock of charges. A shepherd may have to go to another field to mind his business there, and it is at just such moments that a ravening wolf may strike."
Sarah's eyes began to glitter, and her voice came out as a hoarse croak. "But our sisters have married well, and are happy. And as you have always preached, women are not mere sheep, but have the capacity to reason and defend themselves."
"Just so," he said in clipped tones.
Sarah stroked his shoulder tenderly. "You needn't worry about me, Brother. I have no inclination to wed. But if I were to, such a decision would be made upon the knowledge of the head as well as the heart. And I would never creep around behind your back or that of the rest of the world. I love and respect my family, and as such could never do any less than be completely candid with all of my loved ones."
"No, my dear, you never would," Jonathan said tightly. "Nor should any woman, no matter how tyrannical she feels her family to be. And thus endeth another lesson," he added with an airy wave, and tried hard to smile again.
Pamela was still staring at them in consternation. "I agree with you both. Acting dishonestly with one's family is the height of folly. Elopement may seem terribly romantic. Yet from my limited experience it can cause untold misery for all parties.
"Romeo and Juliet are said to be amongst the world's greatest lovers, but they let their passions rage out of control, and it all ended most tragically. It ruined the whole family, and even their friends' lives."
Jonathan stared at her. "Yes, just so." He visibly shook as he reached out for her. His grip was almost crushing on her wrist for a moment.
Pamela's eyes widened in alarm. She was so frozen with shock it took her some time before she attempted to pull away, by which time his grasp had eased, and he stroked her wrist absently. She decided it must have been a miscalculation on his part, her sleeve not being as thick as he had assumed.
"But come, my dears, the Stones will be expecting us, and I will need to go slowly in the carriage with my two precious burdens."
Sarah gave him a warm kiss on the cheek.
They closed up the hall and walked the short distance to the waiting vehicle, Pamela wondering all the while just what on earth had happened to make their demeanors alter so. The conversation had had so many layers of hidden meaning for the siblings, she felt completely at a loss.
The only thing she could conclude was that Sarah must have had a difficult time in the past with an unsuitable beau, and Jonathan blamed himself.
Was that why Sarah was so opposed to the idea of marriage? Was she indeed already married and widowed? Or worse still, a fallen woman?
But she had said she would not do anything foolish. And that she had no experience of men. One of his other sisters, then? While he had been away at the war?
Oh, it was just too confusing. The more she got to know about Jonathan, the less she felt she knew him. And the more enthralled she was becoming, for all she knew how unsuitable it was to ever even consider him as a beau.
She settled herself in the carriage and talked of the reading lessons, the weather and various household matters with Sarah, while Jonathan appeared to concentrate on driving carefully through the frozen landscape.
As he drove, Jonathan felt as though a vast weight were crushing his chest. He was astounded at how the grief and pain crept up on him when he least expected it.
> One moment he had been looking forward to the reading lessons, even to spending more time with Pamela, though he knew he ought not to be thinking in those terms.
Then he had been reminded of his grim past, and all of the old feelings of anger and the acute sense of loss had almost overwhelmed him. He had so many people to blame, including the ones he still loved and wished to deem blameless.
Thomas Eltham was his best friend. How could he ever reproach him for having gone to war with him? He had done it out of friendship as much as principle, he knew. As had Clifford.
All three heirs to their respective fortunes, they could have stayed home safely to tend to their affairs, and not a soul in the world would have blamed them.
But no. He had insisted he had to see to things personally, and look at all he had lost as a result. The only thing that made that thought bearable was the certain knowledge that he could have lost so much more.
He reminded himself that he had to count his blessings. Even after the five years of sheer hell he had been through, both during the war and then once the three of them had come home, he had not suffered as others had. Thomas himself, even Clifford. They had both been badly injured, whereas he had escaped virtually without a scratch. On his body, at least.
Yet even after all he had been through, he still couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. He had gone to Oxford, visited his friends as often as he could get away to see how they were recuperating, and now had all the duties of a busy parish to keep him occupied. Births, deaths, marriages, visits to the poor and sick, the running of the regular and Sunday schools all kept him busy, yet unfulfilled. Jonathan wondered when he was ever going to have what he deemed a normal life.
Now as he listened to the two women talking about such mundane things as the best way to get red wine stains out of a tablecloth and the price of beef, he realized with a pang that the answer would most likely be never. Not as things stood at the moment. And not unless they ever improved.
Thomas and Sarah had urged him to let go of the past, until Jonathan had insisted he would never speak to them again if they did not relent. He went to the small village on the other side of Bath at least twice weekly to do his duty. He only wished he could do more. And that he considered it a true act of love, rather than a burden.
Burdensome it was, though he tried to shoulder it cheerfully for his friends' sakes. Thomas was the best of men, but his torment over the tragic circumstances of two years before was even greater than his own. Well, it stood to reason. There were all different kinds of love, and degrees of loss. Thomas's terrors for the safety of his addled sister and her child were by no means mere fancies.
Jonathan had thus taken upon himself the role of Jane Eltham's protector, and that of her daughter, little Sophie. There had been an understanding between he and Jane ever since they had understood the concept of marriage. He had never dreamt that she would not wait for him. Never imagined coming home to an insane fiancée carrying another man's child.
Jonathan sighed, recalling Jane as a young girl, so tender and innocent, compared with the increasingly angry woman he went to visit as often as his parish duties would allow.
She was being kept well hidden from the men they feared had conspired against Thomas, but naturally resented her loss of freedom. And was coming to despise him for keeping her there against her will. When she was coherent enough to have one.
Thomas and Jane needed him. He had long ago given up any hope, but he had promised the delightful young lady he had adored since boyhood that he could never love another.
He had not been able to keep his word. As hard as he had struggled, he knew he was falling in love with Pamela Ashton with all the force of a grown man completely enthralled by passion and desire. He longed to just wrap his arms around her waist, bury his head against her pillowing bosom, and never let her go.
An image of Pamela, naked beneath him, sprang into his mind, obviously a temptation from the Devil himself. He saw her honey-gold locks strewn on navy satin sheets, her rosy lips parted, cheeks flushed, blue eyes dark with passion, nipples peaked against the hard palms of his hands as he spread her thighs with his hips and possessed her with his pulsingly needy manhood.
The vision was so vivid he nearly groaned aloud. He rubbed his hand over his face to try to free himself of the powerfully erotic image which threatened every particle of his self-control.
It was impossible, he insisted, flicking the reins against the horse's back in exasperation. He had given his word, and there was an end to it. No matter how unhappy he was, it was God's will. He was simply His vessel, His instrument. He had to avoid temptation and adhere to his chosen path, no matter how wretched and torn he felt.
Chapter Nine
"Here we are," Jonathan declared at the end of a nearly an hour's drive.
"Oh my," Pamela said, admiring the magnificent old house of gray stone. She entered the front door and looked in awe at the twin staircases which ascended to the upper floors, and the fine moldings, busts, and paintings which filled the walls.
The staircases themselves were of snowy white marble, with gilt leaves decorating the posts and balustrades. Fine Turkey carpets underfoot led up the stairs and to the large formal reception room through the double doors under the balcony formed by the two staircases meeting at the upper storey. It was as fine as Ashton Manor, if not more so, Pamela noted with uncharacteristic modesty.
Their hosts Clifford and Vanessa Stone greeted them with every show of civility, and were indeed a most attractive couple, intelligent, but not in the least haughty. Vanessa was tall and willowy, with auburn hair and the most remarkable amethyst eyes, Clifford a tall, blond Adonis with sparkling sapphire eyes.
Pamela liked them immediately, and felt as if they were old friends within minutes. She paid attention to the woman's happy talk of her little son, Arthur, named after Viscount Wellington, of course. But she listened avidly to all the men said as well as they sat in the Stones' fine pale blue and cream drawing room and sipped sherry.
She could not fail to be impressed. Clifford and Jonathan were obviously as close as brothers, though Clifford's brother Henry also being present with his wife Josephine helped her to compare. The two brothers were also very close, and she was astonished to find in the course of their tour of the stately home which she was given before they sat down to dinner that Clifford had willingly divided his estate exactly in two, and that the Stone men and women ran it together.
Henry's wife Josephine was a lovely, sensible blonde young woman whom he had married the previous autumn. She helped look after the smooth running of the household, whilst Vanessa tended to Arthur and helped Clifford with the estate and shared his love of writing.
Pamela observed the happy couples, their long looks, physical closeness, and decided that falling in love and having a passionate attachment was a very good thing indeed. Both of the women were possessed of excellent fortunes, she knew, but that had not been the reason why they had married.
In fact, Clifford shocked her no end by telling her that he had won his wife in a card game.
"I'm surprised you didn't hear all the gossip, but you would have been quite young for such talk. Vanessa's half-brother Gerald caused scandal here in Millcote the likes of which had never been seen," Clifford said without the slightest touch of embarrassment.
"I suspect my aunt wouldn't have wanted me to hear such shocking tales."
"Shocking indeed," Vanessa said with a shake of her head. "To discover my own brother was a murderer, a highwayman? That he'd tried to kill me? I thank God every day for Clifford saving my life. If he hadn't come along the road when he did, along with Henry on his way to Josephine's birthday party," she added, giving that couple a smile, "it would have been all over for me."
"Thank goodness Clifford saved you," Pamela said sincerely.
"I do every day. I've found love and life in this house, and created a new life in baby Arthur," Vanessa said with a beaming smile directed at her husb
and. "What could be better than that?"
"Helping with our new school over in Brimley," Jonathan said with a wink.
"Yes, indeed," Clifford agreed. "You may certainly count on us all, can't he, Henry?"
"Certainly. A wonderful idea, Miss Ashton. I feel certain many people will gain the benefit of your generosity in terms of time and money, and that you'll be a most welcome addition to our little set of Rakehells."
"Rakehells?" she asked, frowning.
"Our sobriquet from our school days," Jonathan explained with a blush. "Young Radicals with more opinions than commonsense at times. We soon learned to formulate our arguments more coherently after six of the best from one of our rather perturbed teachers."
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