Page 32 of A Bride for the Baron

As if he had said that aloud, she mused, “I was thinking...”

“Thinking what?” he asked.

She looked at him. Her eyes were not filled with tears. Instead, the sturdy resolve that he admired burned in them. “It is a shame that all the stone from the vicarage is being dumped into the cellar. If several layers of the stone were laid along the walls in the new cellar, it might keep the smugglers from finding an easy route into our church as they did before.”

“That is an excellent idea,” he said, wondering why neither he nor the men working on the site had considered that. He had been so focused on making sure the old church’s cellar did not collapse farther and jeopardize the graves closest to it that he had given no thought to protecting the new one from the smugglers. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To count off the perimeter of the new church, so I can calculate the necessary amount of stone to line it thickly enough.”

They went to where the foundation of the new church had been begun. The whole area was marked with pieces of wood and rope from fishing nets. Most of the brown grass had been stripped away, and in a few places, holes had been dug down a few feet. As he walked off the length of the sides, she kept track of the numbers. She gave him the total when he was finished, and he was not surprised that she had also added in the height of the future cellar.

“Assuming the cellar will be eight feet deep as the old one was,” she added.

“That is a good assumption. Good enough for setting aside several runs of stone to make it more difficult for anyone to get through the walls.” He excused himself and sought out Sims, who was in charge of the demolition of the vicarage.

Sims listened to Edmund’s explanation, then said, “An excellent idea, m’lord. I am glad you thought of it because it will save us time in the long run.”

“It is not my idea. Miss Fenwick came up with it.”

Sims frowned. “’Tis a shame.”

“That she had such a good idea?” he asked, baffled.

“No, but that a nice lady like Miss Fenwick has to have such thoughts in her pretty head. Riles me that the vicar’s sister cannot think, as she should, only about keeping his house and the church clean and food on his table.”

Edmund nodded, though he suspected she would be annoyed at Sims’s comments. Any woman who could design a church with such skill and was able to find solutions to problems others had not even thought about must have done more for the parish than keep the church tidy. He was curious why she kept that fact to herself.

A shout came from closer to the cliffs where the wooden debris from the ruined church had been gathered. A flame flared among the charred rafters and floor joists, then almost died before leaping back to life. The breeze off the sea caught the flame and set it dancing. With each twist, it scattered more fire across the debris. The beams that had soaked up the brandy flared even more brightly.

Everyone watched the fire burn, but his eyes focused on Miss Fenwick who remained by the rope that marked the new foundation. Her face was composed; yet she must be sad to see all her brother’s hard work being consumed by the flames.

Not only her brother’s, but hers. Edmund was more sure of that all the time. Since the vicar had left Sanctuary Bay to confer with the bishop, Miss Fenwick had handled his work with a quiet and easy efficiency that bespoke much practice.

Drawn to her because she looked alone and yet brave, he gave her a sympathetic smile. Strands of ebony hair blew around her face, emphasizing the gentle planes that belied her inner strength.

“I would have insisted,” he said, “that you remain at Meriweather Hall if I had known they intended to start burning the debris today.”

“I know it has to be done,” she said, “before our new church can rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the old one.” She turned her back on the pyre and gazed across the cliffs toward the village. The red-and-gray roof tiles marked the uppermost houses along the steep street. “In a few years, all that will be left are our memories of these difficult days. We will be in our new church and the first weddings will have been celebrated and the first babies will have been baptized. Then we can look back and be relieved....” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “We shall be relieved that this time is past.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I thought you were going to say something else.”

“About how we grow stronger while overcoming challenges?” She shook her head. “If that were so, everyone returning from the war would be superior to the rest of us mere mortals.”

“That definitely proves the inaccuracy of that adage.”

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