Lady And The Cad by Murray Tamela Hancock

Lady And The Cad by Murray Tamela Hancock

Author:Murray, Tamela Hancock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-10-27T16:00:00+00:00


Seven

The following Sunday, the servants didn’t awaken Cecil early. They had no reason to bother. Worn out on Saturday evening from a day of hunting with Tedric, by the time he retired, he had yet to decide if he would attend worship services the following day. He decided not to leave instructions to awaken him at all.

So when he awoke on his own early enough to attend, a mixture of surprise, happiness, and dread filled his being. He realized that fear played a part, too. Cecil hadn’t set foot in any church—either in the country or in London—in more than a decade. Though he would rather be struck by lightning than admit his feelings to anyone, the thought of returning to church sent his stomach into a frenzy of somersaults.

Remaining in bed, he picked up the silver bell on the nightstand and rang it to summon Luke.

His faithful valet responded quickly to the bell. Cecil was a bit taken aback to see Luke dressed in a suit as fine as any servant could expect to afford. He sat up in bed. “Where are you going, Luke?”

Luke looked at Cecil as though he had taken leave of his senses. “Why, to church, milord.”

He hesitated. “Yes. But of course.”

What was he thinking? Naturally, the servants attended church services. Tedric would never deny his staff the privilege. Cecil supposed his servants in London worshiped on Sunday mornings as well. How would he know one way or the other? Exhausted from the previous evening’s festivities, he often slept until the noon hour on the Sabbath.

He lifted his voice with pride. “So am I.”

“You are what, milord?”

“I will be attending church this morning.” To prove he was serious, he rose.

Luke gasped. “You are, milord?”

“Yes. Is that really such a surprise?”

“If I may be permitted to say so, milord. But a happy one, indeed.”

Cecil chuckled. “You are permitted. Now then, I need you to help me find my prayer book.” Cecil didn’t want to confess that he hadn’t bothered to keep track of the book he would need to participate in worship services. He hadn’t looked at it since he became a confirmed member of the Church of England as a young adult, a commitment expected of him by his community, his family, and God.

“I think your prayer book may be in the library, milord.”

“A very good deduction,” Cecil said. “Fetch me the book and my suit and have breakfast brought up.”

“Yes, milord. If I may say so, we will have to hurry if we hope to arrive at the church before the service begins.”

“Noted. But a man must eat.”

“Indeed, milord.” He bowed and hurried to complete his errands.

Later, Cecil enjoyed the hearty breakfast of sausage and eggs brought up to his room, but then hurried out in hopes of catching up with Tedric’s carriage. Unsuccessful, he followed them on his own horse. He couldn’t remember the last time he had risen so early on Sunday. As he rode along, the day seemed somehow more peaceful than all the rest.



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