Page 129 of Oddity of the Ton
Mother was right. There was no harm in trying. Even though the thought of Eleanor in the arms of another was more torture than he could bear, he would weather it for the chance, however slim, that she might be waiting for him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sandcombe, Lincolnshire, December 1815
“Mrs. Riley.”
Eleanor slipped on her gloves as she continued along the gravel path leading out of the churchyard.
“Mrs. Riley!” the voice called out again.
“Miss Howard!” Harriet hissed, and Eleanor turned to see the vicar approaching, his breath forming a mist in the air, soft brown eyes crinkling into a smile.
“I beg pardon, Mrs. Riley, I hadn’t expected you to attend Wednesday Evensong.”
“My soul is in as much need of saving as the rest of your flock, Reverend Staines,” Eleanor said. “And I have to confess curiosity. On Sunday you had alluded to a sermon about St. Nicholas, and I was anxious to hear it.”
“Did it meet your expectations?”
“Your sermon surpassed my expectations, reverend,” she replied, smiling.
“In what way?”
“In its brevity.”
He let out a laugh. “Bravo! An honest critique is preferable to flattery.”
“Oh, forgive me, reverend.”
“Mr. Staines, please.”
“Forgive me—Mr. Staines.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“There’salwayssomething to forgive,” she said. “At least, that’s what you said in your sermon last week.”
“An honest critique and an accurate recollection of my sermons. The holy grail of congregants.”
“Careful, Mr. Staines—I wouldn’t let Mrs. Fulford hear you say that.”
He rolled his eyes then gave her a very un-reverend-like wink.
“Is there something you wanted, Mr. Staines?” she asked.
“I wondered whether you were attending the children’s party at the vicarage later.”
“Harriet and I have been baking biscuits all day, and we’ve already arranged for Thomas Ham to bring them over.”
“But you’ll not come yourself.”
“Forgive me, reverend, but no.”
“Not even the prospect of seeing your beautiful landscape taking pride of place over my fireplace can tempt you?”
“Now you’re flattering me,” she said. “I’ve no objection to Harriet attending, but I dislike large parties—all those people crowded together in a room.”
“Isn’t that what a congregation does every Sunday? You seem at ease during the service.”
