“It is an offer of a parrish post! In Meryton!”
Percival was oblivious to the hot soup now sloshing down his trouser leg as he nodded his head excitedly. He could hardly believe his good fortune. Someone wanted him…. No, that was not quite right. The letter stated the people were in ‘dire need’ of his services!
“That is great news, I suggest you go and tell your father before writing an acceptance.” Mrs. Rogers agreed with a smile and silently prayed that a miracle had indeed occurred.
Standing too swiftly to do as was suggested, Percival Rogers exited the room, sending his chair crashing to the floor in his wake. However, all clumsiness and speech impairment was forgotten as utter happiness filled his heart. He was going to Meryton immediately…despite not knowing where Meryton actually was.
******
Hours later, with messenger dispatched home carrying a letter containing the most cordial of agreement, Percival Rogers eagerly tossed clothing into a trunk. Singing a song of praise to God, he did not pause to notice that his pronounced stutter all but ceased to manifest when he sang. Anxiously he turned over a prepared speech for when he would meet the church council that had so eagerly placed their trust in him. Re-reading the letter of request for the umpteenth time, his thoughts raced to the myriad of things that now lay within his grasp. Imagine! He was finally to have some sort of purpose in life! It had been arranged that he would travel to Meryton in two days on his own mount. Fortunately, on horseback was a place in which he had always found a sense of grace. Following the movements of the animal beneath him had removed the awkwardness of his often jerky form. His parents, always generous to the last, had bequeathed upon him the sum of three thousand pounds.
“This should allow you to purchase some personal items. A vicarage can often be rather sparse and cold,” his mother had stated when the present was made.
Percival did not care if he lived in a stone cell with a dirt floor. He was going to actually serve as a priest, and it was all due to a stranger named Mary Bennet. The swirling strokes of her signature reminded him of angel’s wings unfurling. Pausing in his song, he vowed to not disappoint her. Perhaps an angel would look past his imperfections.
~Twenty-one~
Two days later….
Mary Bennet had been relieved to the point of elated hysteria when the messenger arrived back at Longbourn bearing the acceptance of her offer. Finally, she could relax and plan the final touches on her wedding… scheduled for a mere ten days from now. However, relax was far from what Mary was doing that very day. With preparations well in hand, Mrs. Kincaid had all but banned her presence from the kitchens. Waving a spoon in a threatening manner, she vowed to beat Mary soundly with the utensil should the cook staff not be allowed some element of surprise. Doing as ordered, Mary had no other occupation than to spend some much appreciated time in the Surgery. It seemed as if it were weeks since she had spent her days working side by side with Atlas. If it were not for the after dinner evenings spent in his company, she would have felt as if she were almost marrying a stranger. Now, with the impending arrival of the new vicar, she donned her apron and set about tidying up the reception area of the surgery as Atlas stole a kiss from her before entering the small laboratory to the rear.
“Please interrupt me when the man arrives. I should like to welcome him with you. The appointment book is rather sparse today, so provided there are no emergencies we may be able to close up and escort the new vicar to his accommodations.”
Mary nodded. She had spent the better part of yesterday giving the vicarage a thorough cleaning. With the assistance of Bridget, Longbourn’s own assistant housekeeper and the ten year old daughter of the town blacksmith, they had put the house to rights. With the swift departure of Mr. Collins, the place was in shambles. They had taken whatever was not actually nailed down, much of it belonging to the parish. However, Mary was not going to quibble over household sundries. She was simply grateful that Mr. Collins was gone. Now, with fresh curtains in the windows and every spider web swept away, the cottage was quite charming, ready to receive its new occupant. Mary only prayed that he would stay.
It was not until nearly tea time, with the last patient long tended and sent home, that Mary and Atlas heard the sounds of a single rider approaching. Standing outside the surgery, they watched together as a slim young man dressed in the attire of a priest rode towards them. From a distance, he appeared all as he should. Of middle height, the Reverend Percival Rogers was not unattractive. He had dark curling hair and deep blue eyes that cast a curious gaze upon his surroundings as he slowed his horse and dismounted easily.
“Reverend Rogers?” Mary inquired, and after receiving an affirmative nod, thrust forward her gloved hand in welcome.
“I am Mary Bennet. Allow me to introduce my intended, Dr. Atlas Sutton.”
Percival Rogers accepted each hand with eager shakes as all of his rehearsed speech instantly escaped him. Pausing to take gulps of air to settle his excitement, Percy Rogers nearly choked out his own greeting.
“V…v…very p…p…pleased to m…m…meet you,” he replied blushing as he awaited the expected faces of disappointment. However, today was not a day for such unpleasantness, but rather unexpected happiness. Mary Bennet’s smiling countenance did not waver as she immediately offered her hospitality.
“We are very pleased as well. I am sure your journey was quite tiring, but if you follow me, the vicarage is just one lane to the East. A cold repast is awaiting your arrival.”
Percival Rogers stood dumbstruck. It was not the first time he had been rendered speechless, on the contrary, it was his customary state around strangers. Such was his surprise at the kindness of his greeting that he immediately tripped over his own feet as they began the walk to his new home. Landing hard in the dust, his horse dipped a concerned nose on his person as Atlas rushed to assist him.
“Take it slow man. I know what being in the saddle for hours can do to a person’s balance. Let us get you something to eat and perhaps a tour of the church and grounds will set you to rights.”
“Yes… Atlas is quite correct. You must be exhausted. A good rest will do wonders.”
Percy Rogers only smiled his thanks, accepting the proffered hand up. It would be soon enough for the people of Meryton to discover that his clumsiness was a regularity of his person. Hopefully, they all had the heart to overlook his flaws.
To his great fortune and relief, the tour of the vicarage, church and grounds was uneventful and he found his new accommodations much to his liking. Even the moss covered headstones of the churchyard seemed to welcome his presence. Sniffing the crisp air that bore a trace of cinnamon, surely from a neighbor’s baking, Percy Rogers smiled his thanks at Miss Bennet and Dr. Sutton. Opting to keep his words few, for fear of stammering he nodded appropriately as Mary Bennet pointed out various items of interest, allowing the young woman he now viewed as his benefactress to ramble unchecked.
“There is a supply of fresh linens, and the larder is well stocked. A local widow, Mrs. Allen, will come by twice a week to collect your laundry and prepare suppers for the week. Of course, if there is anything you should require, please do not hesitate to ask. I trust we shall see you tomorrow evening at Longbourn?’
To this final question, Percival raised an eyebrow in confusion and bit his lip before inquiring.
“Wh…wh... where?”
“Longbourn… my family home. I have arranged a small welcome. A few of the local families will be there, as well as the church council.”
Percival Rogers swallowed hard, but remained silent. So many people… strangers. Would they like him? His thoughts flew back to his curacy. It had been painful to overhear the remarks about his speech and lack of natural grace. If it had not been for his work with the choir, he would have been sent home before completing his requirements. Would they send him packing as well?
Immediately sensing his distress, Mary lay a friendly hand upon his arm in reassurance.
“
Don’t worry, we are rather informal around these parts. It will be an early supper with Saturday being the following day, which leaves you a full day to get familiar with the house and church before you take up your duties. We cannot have our new vicar without sleep before the first service….Oh! I suppose it may be too soon. Perhaps next week would be better?”
“N…n…no. T…tomorrow is fine. S…s…Sunday, I shall be ready.”
“Very well, then we shall leave you to get settled. A carriage will arrive at four tomorrow to bring you to Longbourn. Until then… thank you for coming to Meryton, Reverend Rogers.”
Percival waved as Mary and Atlas made their way down the lane back to the surgery. Despite the small army of butterflies that marched through his stomach, he was for the first time in a long time truly happy. Miss Bennet was the kindest woman he had ever met. God willing, He would do everything in his power to not disappoint, but a nagging fear shadowed his hopes as he shuffled his way down the narrow path between the church and vicarage. Somehow, no matter how hard he tried, Percival Rogers managed to ruin everything he touched.
Once inside, he mounted the stair and began to unpack his belongings. The room he had chosen for himself was not the largest, but it faced the garden and had the vantage point of height to allow for a view of the town. The large single window had been opened to allow the breeze to permeate the room. Instantly preferring it to the master, Percival casually touched the plain cream brocade counterpane and suddenly felt extremely tired. Had he taken on more than he could handle? Only time would tell, if the good people of Meryton would allow him to stay. To ease his troubled thoughts, Percy Rogers began to sing his favorite hymn. Singing was the only time in which he did not stutter and gave him solace. As his deep tenor rose and fell to the lines of “Onward Christian Soldiers” he relaxed as he carefully put away his clothing, blissfully unaware that he was overheard by many as the open window carried his voice. Even Mary and Atlas paused on their walk to enjoy the sound.
“And to think that for a moment… a brief one mind you… I was worried about him, but it appears to be for naught. Truly and angel has been sent from above… and just in time,” Mary admitted.
“Indeed… there is no escape now… you are doomed to be my wife in just eight days’ time, no backing out now,” Atlas agreed, and quickly dodged Mary’s punch to his arm in response to his teasing.
~Twenty-two~
By the time the carriage bearing the Bennet crest arrived to carry him to Longbourn, the reverend Percival Rogers had rehearsed what he would say to each and every possible person nearly ten times. Tying and retying his neck cloth in order to appear as presentable as possible had only resulted in his spoiling the silk. Now, as he wore his second best, the one with carefully hidden stains, the unsettled feeling in his stomach only grew with each passing moment. However they saw him, it was far too late to do anything about it as he nearly tripped up the stone steps to the entry. Stirring up what was left of his resolve, the door to the modest estate opened before he could knock.
“Good evening sir, welcome to Longbourn. You must be the new minister?” inquired a beautiful young maid with red curling hair that threatened to escape her cap.
“Y... yes…P…P…Percival R…R…Rogers, at your service,” he stammered as Bridget bobbed a curtsey and led him to the parlor where the assembly of guests awaited his arrival. Bridget had been forewarned of the new vicar’s nervous disposition and gave him a wink before opening the parlor door to announce his arrival.
As the brightness of the room contrasted the darker hall, Percival blinked heavily as he took in the dozen or so pairs of eyes focused on his person. Feeling much like an exhibit in a museum, he forced what he hoped was his best smile as Mary Bennet quickly rose and took his arm to make introductions.
******
After nearly an hour of polite replies to the onslaught of questions about everything from his earliest childhood memories to his opinion on ladies fashions, Percy Rogers was relieved to hear the sound of the bell announcing dinner. He was equally relieved that he had managed to survive the inquisition of so many strangers without causing an incident of great embarrassment. Only his stutter had marred an otherwise perfect meeting. It had been the timely interruptions of Mary Bennet that had prevented his speech impediment from causing distress. Each time he paused to catch his breath, the young lady he now saw as his patroness easily finished his sentences to the smiles and nods of everyone. While he was deeply grateful, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach feared that it was not to last. Eventually, his clumsy ways and difficulty speaking would destroy their new confidences. As Atlas Sutton appeared to escort Miss Bennet to dinner, Percy was suddenly left alone, but only for a moment. The esteemed personage of Lady Lucas immediately thrust her unmarried daughter Maria to his side.
“My dear vicar, I am sure you will soon become acquainted with many young people in the surrounding area, but none so accomplished as my youngest daughter.”
To this, Maria Lucas blushed deeply. Ever since the announcement of Mary’s engagement, her mother had been beside herself to find someone to marry her. The unspoken competition between the matrons of Lucas Lodge and Longbourn was often the topic of gossip as each mother attempted to marry off their daughters. As Kitty Bennet’s engagement had yet to be announced, Lady Lucas wanted to be the first to empty her house of unmarried daughters… an achievement not to be taken lightly.
Seeing both women eye him in a fashion more appropriate to a fancy desert, Percy Rogers only smiled and offered his arm to Maria. Tonight was not the place to make any offenses. Unfortunately, as he pulled out the chair for Maria to dine, Percy stepped on the trailing hem of her dress. The resounding sound of rending fabric turned every face in their direction as Maria sought to free her hem from under his boot.
“It is nothing…I must have moved the wrong way,” Maria said in way of apology as she quickly flicked the torn silk out of the reach of further damage.
“Our dining room is much too small for such a party. We are quite like sardines for the present, but our new home will be able to accommodate a greater number,” replied Mrs. Bennet, but narrowed her eyes curiously at Maria Lucas. Mary’s mother would not be surprised if Miss Lucas tried to turn all attentions in her direction, but it would not be tolerated while she was still mistress of Longbourn. Ignoring the incident, Mrs. Bennet directed the conversation to her own daughter as dinner was served.
“We are quite anticipating our upcoming celebration. I trust that you, Reverend Rogers, have been made aware of the wedding arrangements so inconveniently interrupted by the demise of Mr. Morton?”
“Oh Mama! Don’t speak so of poor Reverend Morton. It is not as if he planned on dying just to be of inconvenience. Besides, Atlas and I shall be meeting this week with Mr. Rogers to discuss last minute details. Everything will be fine,” Mary insisted with a pleading look in his direction.
“Dying! You say that as if he simply expired in his sleep due to advanced age… the man was murdered. Very inconvenient indeed!” snapped Mrs. Bennet.
Taken aback by this revelation, Percy Rogers tried to reassure his hostess, but his reserve had been shattered by the knowledge of what had happened to his predecessor.
“Y...Yes, a…all will be in order,” he stammered uncomfortably.
“It had better be. We have rather important guests that will be travelling some distance for the ceremony. I should hate to disappoint the Darcys.”
Mary rolled her eyes heavenward. Mrs. Bennet never ceased to take an opportunity to state the connection to Pemberley, but it was lost on Percy Rogers completely as he tried to concentrate on his soup without slurping too loudly. Fortunately, before he could finish, the next course was brought. Trying his best to relax, despite the disturbing information, Percy smiled at the sight of his favorite fish. Reaching eagerly for the serving tongs, Percy bumped Bridget’s laden arms as he did so, causing the contents of the tray to slip precariously to the edge.
“Allow me…” Atlas interjected as he quickly took the dish to avert certain disaster, casually taking the role of footman, much to the surprise of the diners, and relief of Reverend Percy Rogers as he was given the opportunity to regain his composure.
“I hear that in America, the plates are passed amongst the guests, foregoing the need for servants entirely,” he explained smoothly too much astonishment.
“Dr. Sutton, I surely hope you don’t intend to emulate such barbarism once you and Mary are wed? Surely some servants are necessary?” inquired Lady Lucas with disbelief.
“Most definitely, but only in so far as to not encourage idleness in ourselves… we have even discussed living in a log cabin,” He replied with a wink in Mary’s direction.
All eyes now turned on Mary, as if to confirm what surely must be a jest.
“Indeed, all persons should have some sort of occupation. Is idleness not the greatest of sins? I am sure Reverend Rogers is in agreement,” Mary replied without a pause.
“S…sin?”
“Yes, I believe the Bible refers to idleness as Sloth, one of the most deadly sins. I cannot imagine spending my days occupied with nothing but frivolous pursuits,” Mary continued, enjoying the discomfort of Lady Lucas.
“I…I…w…well… everyone has different talents to be pursued….a…and l…limitations,” he replied breathlessly with what he hoped would be an agreeable response for all present.
To this, the present company did not comment, but chose to place their attentions upon their plates. It was some awkward moments before Mr. Bennet resumed the conversation with less controversial topics and the rest of the evening was spent without incident. The contingent of persons invited to Longbourn choose to contemplate their first impressions of the new vicar until after he bid them all good night.
~Twenty-three~
The sound of the front door to Longbourn closing behind Reverend Percy Rogers was hardly heard before the opinions of the people of Meryton were given of his person, with more than one being less than charitable in regards to a relative stranger.
Mary Bennet and the Substitute Vicar Page 10