Page 51 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
Andrew bowed to Etty. “Forgive me, Mrs. Ward,” he said. “Thank you for all your help today.”
“It was a pleasure,” Etty said, her gaze fixed on Lady Fulford, who wrinkled her nose. Then she retreated into the cottage.
Once inside the parlor, she glanced out of the window to see Andrew returning to the village, flanked by two of the Fulford daughters, the matriarch and the third daughter in front.
As she watched them, one of the daughters turned to glance over her shoulder toward the cottage, and Etty’s gut twisted at the expression of hatred in the young woman’s eyes. She shrank back from the window.
What had Lady Fulford said?We quite consider him to belong to us.
Etty had a rival—most likely three rivals—against whom she couldn’t hope to compete. Sir John Fulford might be the monster who had caused such misery in the village, but he was merely a lecher, a man driven by base needs. His wife, being a woman with sharp cunning and a desire to destroy her rivals, was infinitely more dangerous—and Lady Fulford was the very last person in the world Etty wanted for an enemy.
Chapter Fourteen
“Iwas mostastonished to see you with that woman, vicar.”
Andrew set his teacup aside. He’d barely had time to sip it before his patroness fired her first arrow.
“I was visiting my parishioners, Lady Fulford,” he said, “as is my duty as vicar of the parish.”
She set her teacup onto the saucer with a sharp clatter. “Vicar, I feel it only fair to counsel you with regard to your behavior.”
“My behavior?” He leaned forward. “Madam, if you wish to make unfounded accusations, I—”
“I wish nothing of the kind,” she said, ice in her tone. “Please refrain from raising your voice in front of my daughters.”
He glanced toward the trio, who sat with identical attitudes—backs stiff, holding their cups in their right hands, their little fingers crooked as they raised the tea to their lips in unison.
“Vicar, is it ofyouI am thinking,” Lady Fulford continued. “You are responsible for the moral welfare of the village, and, as such, you set the example all must follow, and not be led astray.”
“I assure you, I’m in no danger of being led astray.”
“Ah, but therein lies the danger, my dear vicar,” she said. “I only speak out of concern for you—and Sir John would say the same. Even the most steadfast of men can be led into sin by the very worst sort of temptress. In fact, the most steadfast of men is at greater risk, for he is less likely to notice the danger beforeit is too late.” She turned toward her eldest daughter. “Elizabeth, serve the vicar a slice of cake. I wouldn’t want him thinking you a poor hostess.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“I have no need of cake,” Andrew said. “My cook would never forgive me if I were unable to finish my supper tonight.”
His attempt at a joke was met with a cold stare.
“I insist, vicar. Would you refuse an offer from your patroness? Elizabeth, stop staring and see to it.”
The young woman rose from her seat and approached the table, where she cut a slice of cake, casting sly glances in his direction, before placing it on a plate, together with a fork. Then she handed it to Andrew, a hopeful smile on her face—the sort of smile unattached young ladies made in an attempt to appear alluring to prospective suitors.
Ugh. Could the girl be any more obvious? On their return from Shore Cottage, she had clung to his arm with the strength of a drowning man, and he’d only been able to extract himself from her possessive grip when they reached Sandcombe Place and her mother instructed her to take charge and order the tea.
Today wasn’t about discussing the village fair—it was about demonstrating the eldest Miss Fulford’s prowess as a hostess.
And as a prospective wife.
Andrew suppressed a shudder at the notion, then he glanced up and met Lady Fulford’s gaze.
No, Lady Fulford, I assure you, I am quite capable of noticing the danger before it’s too late.
And the danger was here, in this very room.
“Your cake, vicar.” Lady Fulford gestured to Andrew’s plate.
He took a bite, wincing at the texture, which seemed to suck the moisture from his mouth, and the hard lumps of dried fruit that stuck to his teeth. After chewing for a moment, whichseemed to make little difference, he conceded defeat, took a mouthful of tea, and swallowed.
