by Jane Charles
Why was she having these thoughts? She never considered any gentleman in the manner she was thinking of these two. The heat returned to her face and she turned her head to look out the window and prayed they didn’t notice. The sun would set soon and she would need to put dinner out. Mrs. Thomas had fixed a grand meal today.
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of the venison waiting. “As you have offered me this escort, I insist you stay for dinner.”
“No, I couldn’t intrude,” Vicar Trent insisted.
“We would love to,” Mr. Trent countered.
Vicar Trent shot his brother an irritated look. Perhaps Vicar Trent did not wish to dine with her. She should not be surprised. The man barely tolerated her. She quashed the uncharitable thought. He may not think much of her, but he did like her father, and he pulled himself away from his visit to help her. She would see that he received a good meal for his efforts.
The silence in the carriage was overpowering and she needed to speak or she would go back to worrying about her father and uncle.
“Are you the only siblings or are there others?”
“We have an older brother and a younger brother,” Vicar Trent answered.
“I am the second born. The spare.” Mr. Trent laughed.
Vicar Trent rolled his eyes. “We also have a younger sister.”
“All fulfilling the role father required.” The bitterness in Mr. Trent’s tone set her back. “Though our younger brother seemed to have escaped his duties.”
“I don’t understand.”
Vicar Trent shot a warning glance at his brother.
“Our father determined exactly what we would be when we became adults and there was no choice for any of us.” Apparently Mr. Trent was going to go against his brother’s wishes and share what may be family information best not discussed.
“Miss Cooper does not need to know our family history. I am sure it will bore her to tears,” Vicar Trent warned.
“Nonsense,” Mr. Trent dismissed him.
“Our elder brother, Clayton, is the new Earl Bentley, recently wed. And, our younger brother, John, avoided buying a commission and traveled the world, recently returning with his new bride.”
“He is the only one who didn’t do as told?” Grace was having a difficult time understanding what the two had done wrong.
“Yes, the bravest of us all.”
“And, what did your father require of you, Mr. Trent?”
His smile was wide, but it never reached his eyes. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Pardon?” Surely as a second son he had to find a way to support himself, even if his father was a lord. Her own father was the second son of a poor baron, yet he became a solicitor, settled his own land, farmed and raised chickens and cows. They had been prosperous until her father’s accident. Since, all but the valet had to be let go. The man only stayed on because he was loyal to Papa and didn’t wish to find other employment. Perkins was perfectly content to stay on helping father with his payment being his simple room and meals. Grace didn’t know what she would have done had Perkins left as her father couldn’t dress himself and in that first year, needed help that a daughter couldn’t offer.
“I am to simply enjoy life without a care in the world.”
Yet, it was clear he wasn’t enjoying himself now.
Instead of questioning Mr. Trent further, Grace focused on Vicar Trent. “Am I to understand your father decided on your profession and it wasn’t something you were called to do?” She thought all ministers were called by God to fill this role.
His eyes met hers across the carriage. There was no humor in them and she was sorry she asked the question. Clearly, she treaded where she ought not.
“I’ve known before I was out of short pants that I would be a vicar. It was never open for discussion.”
Perhaps he did not wish to be a vicar at all. How very disturbing. Shouldn’t a man whose job it was to lead people to God have a fierce desire to do so? Her mind could not comprehend the possibility. Neither brother fulfilled their own desires, but those of the father. He must have been a very formidable man to have such control over these two grown men.
The carriage stopped at her front door. Vicar Trent jumped out and assisted her to the ground. His brother followed. Grace let herself in the house and the brothers followed her into the parlor where her father still sat before the fire. Mr. Trent stopped in the doorway, muttered a low curse and retreated into the foyer. She didn’t really care being much more concerned with her father at the moment.
Uncle Henry paced and drank more of her father’s brandy. She supposed someone should. Her father hadn’t had a drink since the night before his injury. Her uncle glanced up when she entered the room.
“It is about time you returned, young lady. Don’t you know your father should never be left alone?”
Grace heaved a sigh and removed her hat. “Father is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and being left alone for a short time. Besides, Perkins, his valet is here.”
“And, you come back with a gentleman I see. This is further proof you need a guardian. Somebody needs to take you in hand before your reputation is in shreds.”
“I beg your pardon.” Vicar Trent stepped forward. “There is no cause to insult Miss Cooper.” He offered his hand. “I am Vicar Trent.”
“This is my uncle, Baron Stillwaite,” Grace hastened to make the introduction since her uncle apparently insisted on being rude.
Her uncle scowled at the vicar and did not offer to shake his hand. Instead, his eyes focused behind them. “You have arrived sooner than I anticipated, Mr. Trent. Unfortunately, there are more issues than I anticipated and we will have to wait. It seems the magistrate will not be back for a few days.”
Grace knew her jaw dropped and she turned to look at the vicar’s brother.
“What is going on?” Vicar Trent demanded.
“I work for and am in the area at the request of Lord Stillwaite,” Mr. Trent announced.
Matthew looked from his brother to Miss Cooper’s uncle and back again. Since when did Jordan work for anyone and how could he be of assistance to this man?
“I am glad you arrived early. Let’s go into the library to discuss the situation. I never anticipated when I brought you here that I would need your help getting my brother committed and taking over guardianship of my wayward niece,” Lord Stillwaite insisted.
Miss Cooper’s lips drew into a fine line, color rose in her cheeks and Matthew suspected it was more from anger than anything else. She turned on her uncle. “You are no longer welcome in this house, Uncle Henry.”
The man looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “It is not your place to tell me to leave. This is my brother’s home.”
Miss Cooper drew herself up. “It is my home as well and I want you to get out.” She jerked her arm up and pointed to the door. Matthew never dreamed she could become so angry as to order someone from her home. However, he did not know her all that well.
Jordan stepped forward. “Lord Stillwaite, you do not yet have control over your brother, the property or your niece. It would be best if we took our leave.”
Stillwaite huffed and shook his finger at Miss Cooper. “You just wait. Once the magistrate hears my case you won’t be so quick to go against me.” He stormed past them and out the door. Jordan followed on his heels. Matthew stepped forward. He wished he knew of some way to comfort her. Did she see him as a betrayer as much as his brother?
“Are you going to be all right?”
She looked up at him and swallowed. Her once vibrant green eyes were now dull with worry.
“I have no idea what my brother is up to. He has never worked for anyone and I can’t imagine how he could be of assistance in this matter.” Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Despite my brother’s poor judgment, I will be there to speak on your father’s behalf.”
The tension in her face softened. “Thank you. I no longer know what to do. U
ncle Henry cannot get control. I don’t care about me, but I can’t allow him to have my father committed.”
She walked to her father and knelt in front of him. “Papa, I will fight him with everything I have. I promise.”
Mr. Cooper offered a small smile, reached over and squeezed her hand. His eyes met Matthew’s over her head. They were pained and he glanced down at his daughter then quickly back to Matthew. The message was clear, at least he thought so. Mr. Cooper was more concerned with how his daughter would fare from this more than himself. He gave a quick nod so Mr. Cooper understood. He would protect the young woman the best he knew how.
Miss Cooper swiped her cheek with the back of her hand and stood. “I shall see about supper.”
Matthew bowed. “I shall take my leave of you then.”
She paused in the door. “You are still welcome to stay.”
He would like nothing more than to join this family for the evening meal, but he had more urgent matters at the moment. “Thank you, but I think I need to talk some sense into my brother.”
A small smile pulled at her lips and he wished he could do or say something to bring about the joyful smile he witnessed on Sunday mornings in church and when she was with the children teaching.
Jordan waited for him in the carriage. Miss Cooper’s uncle had already left. Without a word, Matthew entered the conveyance and sat down. There were several times over the years he had been angry with one of his brothers but he could not recall being this livid in his life. “What are you thinking?” he demanded once the carriage reached the road.
Jordan slouched back against the squabs. “What do you mean? Stillwaite is my client. I told you one of the reasons I came here was because of business.”
“You should have said something earlier, when Miss Cooper first mentioned the trouble with her uncle.”
“How was I to know she was speaking of Stillwaite?”
“How could you not?” Matthew yelled.
“Easy.” Jordan threw out his hands in defense. “I was introduced to a Miss Cooper. She only mentioned an Uncle Henry.”
“Exactly!” Matthew pointed his index finger at Jordan to emphasize his point.
Jordan shook his head. “So I am to be a mind reader now. How many men do we know that go by the name of Henry that are also uncles? Several,” he answered before Matthew could. “I did not know Stillwaite had a niece, and the last name is not exactly uncommon. I did not know he believed his brother to be incapacitated. I only came here to discuss a business opportunity.” Jordan was yelling and punctuating each sentence the more he spoke.
Matthew took a deep breath and looked out the window. Perhaps his brother was correct, but that didn’t help where matters now stood. “Since when did you work for anyone?”
Jordan sat in the shadows and all Matthew could see was the shrug of his shoulders.
“Do you have a profession the rest of us are unaware of?”
A deep sigh came from the corner where Jordan sat.
“Dammit, answer me.”
“Tsk, tsk, Matt. You are a vicar. Father’s perfect son. The perfect gentleman. You shouldn’t swear.”
He shouldn’t hit anyone either, but Jordan was testing every inch of his patience. “Tell me what you are about?” Matthew asked in a calmer tone.
Jordan sighed again and shifted into the light. “I secretly received an education father never learned of.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I am bloody rich, remember.”
Father may have insisted Matthew be the perfect vicar and son, but Jordan was his favorite, next to Clayton. Sometimes it was hard to tell who father favored more. But regardless, Father never wanted Jordan to want for anything in his life and gave him an allowance more than the other three brothers combined and then some. Jordan never had to work a day in his life if he didn’t wish to. “So, you paid for an education, lining the pockets of your instructors, so father never learned.”
Jordan grinned.
Admiration replaced some of Matthew’s anger. If only he would have secretly gone against his father. But, what else would he have done? He never even allowed himself to dream of other possibilities, knowing they would be impossible, yet two of his brothers had found a way to do something they wanted, despite their father’s plans. “What is your profession? I am assuming you have one.”
“I am a lawyer.”
“How did you ever manage to keep that from father?”
Jordan chuckled. “I only worked for gentlemen who did not know father or run in his circles. I am a silent partner in a small firm. The clients are questioned before I meet them. If they knew anything about my family, I did not assist.”
“And this is what you want to do?” Matthew couldn’t imagine Jordan sitting in a stuffy room all day reviewing documents. He was a man of action.
“No. I wanted to be a barrister.”
Matthew found himself grinning. Jordan would make an excellent barrister. He could convince anyone of almost anything, which was why the ladies loved him so.
“Why did Stillwaite hire you?”
Jordan stiffened. “I cannot discuss the business of my clients.”
Matthew knew this, just as he could never breathe a word of the confessions he heard from his parishioners. Yet, he cared for Miss Cooper and her father and he would stop his brother before any further damage could be done, if it were possible.
“What are you going to do?” he asked without taking his eyes from the scenery.
“What would you have me do, Matt?” Jordan’s voice was quiet.
Matthew turned to look at him. “End your association with Stillwaite and help Miss Cooper.”
“As much as I would like to do that, it is impossible, as well as unethical.”
“Then at least leave the uncle’s employ.”
Jordan shook his head. “I cannot.”
Matthew stared hard at his brother. “Then I suppose we have nothing further to discuss.”
The carriage arrived in front of the vicarage and Matthew exited. His brother did not follow. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“I thought it best to take rooms at an inn.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You are my brother, and despite our disagreement, you are welcome in my home.”
His brother’s troubled eyes looked back at him, and Matthew was reminded he was going to speak with Jordan prior to Miss Cooper’s arrival on his doorstep. There was more going on with Jordan than met the eye, besides the news that Adele and Julia were not dead. Matthew still couldn’t comprehend how that could be a possibility.
“I think it is best if I go into town.”
Matthew kept his hand on the door when Jordan reached over and tried to close it. “Stay here.” He didn’t ask, but insisted in a quiet voice.
Jordan clenched his jaw and his eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, as if in pain. “No.” He pulled the door out of Matthew’s grasp, slammed it shut and knocked on the ceiling of the carriage to let the driver know he was ready to leave. Matthew watched it pull onto the road.
Grace pushed the food around on her plate. Her appetite left when she returned home to find her uncle a second time. What if he succeeded? What if Uncle Henry became her guardian? Would he marry her off to his choice? She would marry anyone and endure any kind of humiliation that went with marriage if her father was able to remain in his home.
Father reached over, grabbed her hand and squeezed. She looked at him. He offered an encouraging smile.
Grace wished she had an ounce of his optimism. “We will win, Father. I promise.”
He mouthed the word I know. It was the closest he had come to speaking to her verbally since the accident. She blinked and looked away. She refused to allow her father to see her in this state, worried, scared and an emotional mess. He had enough to concern himself without worrying about her.
She could only pray that Vicar Trent’s testimony carried some weight. She also had only a few days to ask others
for help. But who? Lord Crew was out of town. She had been hopeful when Mr. Trent claimed to be a friend of the magistrate, but now that he was firmly in the enemy camp her concern mounted.
After dinner was complete, she stacked the dishes in the kitchen. Her father met her at the bottom of the stairs, kissed her forehead and shuffled down the hall to his room. The back parlor had been converted into his bedchamber following the accident. Grace mounted the stairs and once alone in her room, sank to her knees and begged God to deliver them from her uncle and give her the answers, or guidance, she needed to keep her father at home. She fell asleep, her pillow soaked with her tears.
Even though she tossed and turned all night, unable to stay asleep for long periods of time, Grace rose with the sun, put on a wool dress and made her way to the dairy. The warmth and smell of hay engulfed her when she entered the stable, offering comfort from the familiar surroundings. She lifted her hand to pet the nose of one of the cows when she walked by to retrieve the milk pail. She positioned the stool, sat and reached for the udders. Exhausted she laid her head against the side of the cow. What am I going to do?
Methodically she went from one cow to the other, filling pails and leaving them by the entrance for delivery later this morning.
“I knew you would probably be up and about already.”
Grace straightened and looked toward the door. Audrey Montgomery stood at the entrance; the morning sun glimmered off of her golden hair. A smile pulled at Grace’s lips to see her friend. “Does your mother know you are here?”
“Heavens, no.” Audrey dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I doubt mother is even awake yet.” She walked toward the stall and hopped up on a table not far from Grace.
Grace admired her dark blue riding habit with the perky, matching velvet hat. Not even a hair was out of place and Grace knew her friend had ridden from the other side of the village. Chances were she was unescorted as well, which meant the visit would be a short one. Mrs. Montgomery insisted her daughter behave the lady at all times, which meant Audrey should remain abed until at least eleven and when she did take her chestnut out, a groom should accompany her. “How was London?”