Page 53 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“Elizabeth, do as I say. Have I not raised you to obey your elders and betters?”
The eldest Miss Fulford scowled, and Andrew caught a flash of the spite she’d leveled at Etty earlier that afternoon. There was no doubt that she was her mother’s daughter. Her veneer of respectability barely concealed a soul defined by entitlement, resentment, and malice. Then she directed a simpering smile at Andrew, rose, and exited the parlor, her sisters in her wake.
After the door closed behind them, Lady Fulford leaned toward Andrew and placed her hand over his. He suppressed a shudder as she gave it a possessive squeeze. What had she said to Etty when she’d encountered them earlier that afternoon?
We quite consider him to belong to us.
“Vicar,” she said, “what I’m about to say is out of kindness, and a concern for your moral welfare.”
“Mymoral welfareis in safe hands, Lady Fulford,” Andrew replied. “I am, after all, a man of the cloth.”
“It’s precisely that which places you in danger,” she said. “I have been concerned for some time, but after what I saw today, it’s worse than I feared.”
“And what do you fear, Lady Fulford?”
“That you’re being tempted from the righteous path, by a”—she leaned closer and lowered her voice—“by a harlot.”
“Of whom do you speak?”
“Of Mrs. Ward, of course!” She glanced toward the door. “You may say it’s not my place to interfere, but as your patron’s wife, I have that right. Do you think I didn’t notice what thetwo of you were doing on her doorstep? In broad daylight?” She shook her head and sighed, as if overcome with horror. “Andin full view of my daughters?”
Andrew’s cheeks warmed with shame. Beset by a powerful need, he’d succumbed to the call of his body, the feel of Etty’s soft form against his. Had she not withdrawn from his embrace, he would have taken her, there and then, against her front door. And then she had invited him inside…
No.
Etty was not a temptress. She was merely a good, kind woman—with whom he was falling in love.
“Mrs. Fulford,” he said, his voice strained as he struggled to control the desire simmering in his body at the memory of Etty in his arms, “I was merely—”
She raised her hand. “Do not attempt to explain yourself, vicar. You suffer—of course you do. I see it in your eyes, and I hear it in your voice. You are young, and the young are weak. But I consider you blameless in the matter. I know you well, and you have served us faithfully and honorably here at Sandcombe. As toher”—she wrinkled her nose—“we know so little of her. But a woman who arrives, unannounced and shrouded in mystery, is not a woman to be trusted. Consider the last woman to take residence in that very same cottage, the one masquerading as a widow. Miss Howard, was it?”
“You mean the Duchess of Whitcombe.”
“Duchess she may be, having snared herself a titled husband,” Lady Fulford said, “but she came to our village a ruined woman—living among respectable folk, with her head held high as if she were better than the rest of us. She carried a false name and deceived the honest, God-fearing people of Sandcombe. I cannot forgive her for having deceivedyou, vicar—we all noticed your partiality toward her. There is no greaterevil than a hussy leading a good man into temptation. I only speak now because I have no wish for you to fall again.”
“Mrs. Ward is no hussy, I assure you, Lady Fulford,” Andrew said. “She’s been very kind, helping me visit the poor in the village.”
“And yet she isanothermysterious woman, arriving unannounced in the village, living apart from the rest of us, styling herself as a widow.” She leaned back, shaking her head. “My poor vicar—we are very fond of you here, and hate to see you deceived. But how can you be certain that she is a widow at all?”
“Because she told me so, Lady Fulford.”
“As would any woman in her position.”
“What are you implying?”
“Oh, my poor, dear young man,” she said, sighing. “I am implying nothing. I only tell you this because I am—no, weallare—so very fond of you, and have no wish for you to be injured a second time.”
“I’m in no danger of injury, Lady Fulford—certainly not by Mrs. Ward.”
She lifted her hand to her chest and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, vicar! You know not how relieved I am to hear that. It will make my telling you all the less painful.”
“Telling me what?”
“That Mrs. Ward has been entertaininggentlemen callers.”
“Gentlemen callers?”
“Hush! It pains me to even speak of such things, much less hear the words fall from your own lips.”
