A Chance Encounter by Gayle Buck Read Free Book Online Page B

natural vivacity of others and what she regarded as the admirable quality of social polish. It was something that she had never had a true opportunity to develop.
    As the vicar’s daughter, she had naturally been invited to various neighborhood dinner parties and other social events, but she had always been of a small flock of young ladies and she had not thought that she had stood out in any way. It was for that reason that she had been astonished and humbled that the reigning beauty of the neighborhood had singled her out for particular attention.
    She had thought over the matter for some time before voicing her puzzlement to her father. “I do not understand why Clarissa seems so taken with my company, Papa. She is not near so friendly with the other girls as she is to me,” she had said.
    Her father had regarded her with a gentle smile in his eyes. “My dear child, I wish that I could say with honesty that this friendship has come your way due solely to your admirable qualities. But I think you to be too intelligent to believe me.”
    Joan had sighed, for her father had but underscored her own suspicions. “Clarissa uses me for a foil and, I think, a diversion for those beaux that she does not wish to encourage.”
    “Yes, child, I fear that is so.”
    “But I do not mind it so very much,” she had said quickly. “I do have such fun when I am with her. Clarissa can dazzle and entertain everyone about her in such a way that I would be most sorry not to be one of her circle.”
    The vicar had frowned slightly. “I hope that you will not be terribly disappointed if her friendship for you proves fickle in the end, child.”
    She had jumped up and kissed him lightly on the top of his balding head as he sat in his favorite chair. “Oh, no, how could I be? I have my eyes open. And I have more faith in Clarissa’s good nature than you appear to have, dear Papa.”
    But Joan had been disappointed, and bitterly so. She had discovered that along with her father’s death had died her own small claims to gentle society. Without guardian, without dower or inheritance, she had become a charge upon the parish and hardly one whom a young lady of pretension wished for as a companion. Her friend Clarissa had made it plain in a not-so-subtle fashion that she was no longer the welcome companion that she had once been.
    Joan also discovered that her assumption that she would have any number of places to choose from in which to reside was false. The vicar had easily been a favorite among the county’s small society and Joan had expected to be able to remain in the neighborhood. She received kindness and sympathy from her father’s parishioners, but none had come forward to offer her a permanent place in their home.
    Times were difficult and the charge of a young woman, who was neither family nor servant, would be a burden on any household. Those whose minds the notion did cross were reluctant to voice their impulse, for once the offer was made, it could not possibly be withdrawn.
    None harbored dislike for Miss Chadwick; on the contrary, she had always been a welcome addition to any informal dinner party or romp for the young people. But that was quite a different thing from providing for a young woman until she married or her future was otherwise settled.
    Joan realized fully the loneliness of her position when she had gone to visit her father’s gravesite a bare two weeks after his untimely death. It had been a cold day, the sky a harsh gray and threatening more snow for that evening. The grave was covered in icy white crystals and against the snow someone had pressed a wreath of holly and bright-red berries.
    She stared at the fresh greenery and suddenly started to cry. It was like a wellspring was released. She had stood quite motionless, the tears sliding down her wind-bitten cheeks, and between her sobs she had gasped in the cold searing air.
    When it was over, she had known quite clearly that she could no longer remain in