The Dowry of Miss Lydia Clark by Lawana Blackwell Read Free Book Online Page B

went there to fetch him, he sent me away! I want you to go over there and tell him his duty is to be at home with his wife!”
    “I cannot do that, Mrs. Hayes.”
    She fixed Andrew with a look that would curdle milk. “Well, I don’t see why not! You’re the vicar. He listens to you.”
    “Then I’ll pay a call later when he’s at home. I’ll not embarrass him in front of his friends.”
    “Well, he didn’t mind sending me away in front of his friends!”
    “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Mrs. Hayes.” Taking her gently by the arm, he guided her toward the runabout, which Luke had had the good sense to abandon after tying the reins. “I’ll be over this afternoon. Until then, why don’t you find a good book to read or sit in your lovely garden with a cup of tea? You’ll find Mr. Hayes will be home before you know it.”
    By the indignant primp of her mouth, Andrew could tell the woman wasn’t favorable toward his advice. But she allowed herself to be assisted into her carriage. As he handed her the reins, she lifted her chin and allowed two parting remarks to drift down to him.
    “Vicar Wilson would have come at once, you know. And he conducted himself with dignity!”
    Wounded by the implications of both statements, Andrew watched with gaping mouth as she drove back down the lane. Then he turned and walked woodenly through the garden. He was at the door when the sound of another approaching carriage caught his ears. He turned, his heart sinking. Apparently, Mrs. Hayes had thought of more insults to fling at him.
    But when he reached the bottom step, he realized that it was his wife at the reins. He hurried out to the drive. Luke appeared again from wherever he had gone to hide.
    “Was that Mrs. Hayes who turned down Church Lane?” she asked as Andrew helped her from the trap. “I only saw her from the back.”
    “Then you had the best vantage point, didn’t you?”
    She gave him a worried look. “Oh dear.”
    “It’s nothing—all that matters is that you’re home.” He held her hand as if it were spun of fine glass and thought he had never appreciated her so much. Should the whole world turn against him, here was the one person who would stand by his side, no matter what! Holding the gate open for her, he asked, “How was the meeting?”
    “Very pleasant, but it went a little long.”
    Feigning a shudder, he said, “That’s the trouble with meetings—they always go too long. It seems that about seventy percent of the discussion of any given subject is superfluous.”
    They had reached the steps leading up to the stoop, and she paused to level her eyes at him. “Are you implying we women talk too much?”
    “Not at all, dear wife. We do the same in our diocese meetings. Every minute point has to be discussed ad nauseam . It’s as if the vicars are paid by the…”
    His voice trailed off as he realized she was not paying attention. Or rather, not to his words , for his face had her full bemused scrutiny. Oh no! he groaned under his breath. Not you too!
    She tapped her upper lip. “You have something…”
    “Here?” he asked, touching his blond mustache.
    “No, between your teeth in several places. Something dark.”
    Using his tongue, he pried away something hard and round. It sent a mildly bitter taste through his mouth when he crunched it between his back teeth. “Oh.” Andrew shrugged. “Seeds. I had a slice of blackberry bread at the Worthy sisters’. I’ll clean my teeth inside.”
    “You mean they actually stopped spinning long enough to offer you refreshment?”
    “Well, not quite.” Taking her by the elbow, he said, “Here, careful with those steps. So tell me…how did the discussion commence about the pulpit? I want to know every word that was said.”
    She gave him a sidelong look as they climbed the steps. “After what you said about meetings, don’t you think that would bore you?”
    He reached for the doorknob. “I can’t think of any subject that would