Page 27 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
His heart fluttered as he spotted a shape moving about inside.
She might resent the intrusion. But it was not unusual for a vicar to visit his parishioners regularly, even those who’d not attended church that morning.
Especiallythose who’d not attended that morning.
Before the service began, Andrew had waited, like a good citizen, for the congregation to gather. But while the rest of the company waited for the principal family of Sandcombe to take their places at the front of the church, Andrew had been waiting for another congregant.
But he’d waited in vain. The pew at the back remained empty.
Little Frannie Gadd had attended, taking her place with her family, but before Andrew could think of a reason to speak to her, she’d bidden her parents farewell, hugged her brother, then skipped off toward Shore Cottage.
Yes—Andrew had every reason to visit Shore Cottage today. To visit Frannie Gadd, and to inquire after Mrs. Ward’s health.
Etty.
During their last encounter, she’d said her name was Etty. She had entrusted him with her name. Might that give him cause to hope…
The door opened and Frannie stood in the threshold.
“Oh! Vicar,” she said. “Are you come to visit Mrs. Ward?”
“Is she receiving visitors?” he asked.
“I’m sure she’ll receiveyou.”
Andrew tempered the flare of hope. “Perhaps you should ask her first. I wouldn’t wish to intrude if she’s occupied. Or indisposed,” he added. “She was absent from church this morning.”
Frannie blushed. “Please don’t think badly of her, vicar. Gabriel took ill in the night. He’s better now, but Mrs. Ward didn’t want to disturb him from his bed. I offered to take care of him for her, but she wanted me to go to church so I could see my family. She’s right kind, she is.”
“I’m no such thing, Frances,” a voice said.
Etty appeared behind Frannie, and Andrew’s heart fluttered.
How Robert would tease him over what could only be described as a boyish infatuation! But with Society beauties falling at his feet, Andrew’s brother wouldn’t cast a second glance at the widow hiding in exile in a tiny cottage with a child in tow and none but a farmer’s daughter for company.
She moved out of the shadows, and Andrew caught his breath at the color of her eyes, which seemed to reflect the sea—shades of blue, shimmering and dancing with jewels of light.
“Are you come to admonish me for absenting myself from church this morning, vicar, or is this merely a social call?”
Her voice carried an edge, as if she were preparing to defend herself against the condemnation of her soul.
“Neither,” he said, cursing himself inwardly as he felt his cheeks warming.
For a moment she stared at him unsmiling, then she nodded. “In which case, you may come in,” she said. “Would you like tea?”
“Oh yes, please,” he said, stepping forward, before cursing his eagerness. He could just imagine Robert’s teasing voice.
You’ve got it bad, brother.
Perhaps he did.
“Then, Mr. Staines,” she said, “thisisa social call.”
“I hope you’d view my visits as anything but asocial call,” he replied. “Social calls are what one does when visiting the likes of Lady Fulford, where I’m expected to listen to what my hostess has to say and respond only when appropriate. And, in responding, I must say the right thing without saying anything at all.”
The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “The right thing?” she asked. “Or thegoodthing?”
“Oh, very much therightthing.”
