Page 47 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“Etty…”
The pleading tone in his voice grated on her senses, and she turned her back on him and marched along the path towardShore Cottage. A couple approached, arm in arm, and she recognized the proprietor of the haberdashery next to the inn.
“You’ve forgotten your basket!” the vicar called after her.
“I don’t give a damn about my basket!”
She heard a sharp intake of breath from the approaching couple, and she held her head high and marched past them.
“Good afternoon,” she said. “A fine day for a stroll, is it not? What splendid weather we’re having.”
The stared at her open-mouthed. At length, the woman shook her head.
“Well,really,” she said, before turning her attention to the man following Etty. “Ah, vicar. It’s pleasant to seeyou, at least. Have you been visiting Mrs. Smith? She’s fortunate to have you to keep her on the path to righteousness.”
Etty fisted her hands and increased the pace. The sooner she removed herself from these judgmental, self-righteous arses, the better.
Arses…
Were poor Loveday’s situation not so dire, Etty might have laughed at her use of such a crude word. If nothing else, folk who lived beneath her in station possessed a far more descriptive vocabulary.
By the time the vicar caught up with her, Shore Cottage was in sight, and Etty’s heart lifted as it came into view. Tiny and cramped it may be, but it was hers. Neither she nor it belonged to another.
How blinkered she had been as a debutante in her desperation to snare a husband! Failing to secure a match may have led to her ruination and disgrace, but what of women such as Loveday Smith? She had secured a husband, and the only outcome was her loss of freedom.
“Damn him—damn them all!”
“I quite agree with you,” a male voice said. A familiar voice, which, to her misfortune, she was growing to love, even after today.
“Damnyoumost of all, vicar,” she said, increasing the pace.
“Could you at least slow down?” he called after her.
“Can’t you keep up the pace, vicar? I thought men were supposed to rule the world because they were stronger, faster, and better at everything. Or is that only when it suits you in your quest for the subjugation of women?”
“I’m not on a quest for the subjugation of women!”
He caught her sleeve, and she spun round to face him. “Then whatareyou for, vicar? What is the point of you? You deliver sermons about the need to be kind. You tell your parishioners to help those less fortunate rather than merely attend church and wallow in self-satisfaction for a hymn well sung. And yet when it comes to helping those people yourself, you’re content to turn your back and ignore the suffering of the innocent.”
“Loveday Smith is not…” he began, but trailed off as she raised her hand.
Then she lowered it. Striking him only placed her on a level with brutes such as Ralph Smith.
“Please don’t insult me by arguing that Loveday is not innocent,” she said. “The poor girl cannot be older than eighteen at most, yet she has already been seduced by a lecher and sold in marriage to a beast who, instead of caring for his wife, resents her children and no doubt punishes her for the sins of her seducer.”
“Holy mother of God,” he whispered. “How did you know…” He shook his head. “Did she tell you? She can hardly speak of it to me.”
Etty folded her arms. “And I wonder why that might be,Mr.Staines.”
“She knows she can trust me,” he said.
“Perhaps not enough,” Etty replied. “Clearly she can’t trust you to remove her from her miserable life.”
“And you can?”
“I can give her, and her children, a home. She’d be safer with me.”
“Oh,wouldshe?” He shook his head. “Well meaning as you are, surely you don’t believe that you, a lone woman, can defend her against her husband! He’s acting within his rights by marriage. If you took Loveday in, her husband would hammer down your door and drag her back the same day, and there would be nothing you could do to stop him. He’s her lawfully wedded husband, and you cannot fight the law.”
