Lily George by Healing the Soldier's Heart

Author:Healing the Soldier's Heart [Heart, Healing the Soldier's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Lucy stuffed another schoolbook into her bag. The children of the veterans’ group would wait no longer. As of today, she would start spending her off days up at Saint Swithin’s, holding an impromptu school. ’Twas something she’d meant to do for weeks, before Sophie’s departure and Amelia’s debut made it necessary for her to put it aside.

But if she were to be honest with herself, the idea of a school was a good distraction that she needed now more than ever. She had not seen James for three days now, not since the day he proposed to her in the music room. And she had not breathed a word of their conversation to anyone. When Sophie returned home the day before, Lucy kept her counsel, immersing herself into Sophie’s problems with Lieutenant Cantrill. She’d certainly not said a word to Louisa. Besides being highly improper, such a course of action would open Lucy to an onslaught of Louisa’s romantic notions, and she was not strong enough to endure more of that nonsense.

She laced up the leather satchel, which now bulged with books, slates and slate pencils. She’d done such a fine job of convincing herself that James’s proposal was meaningless—hopeless, in fact—that sometimes she wondered if it had really transpired. Perhaps she’d dreamed the whole thing. And that thought made her heart ache. She wanted it to be true, even though the marriage he’d said he wanted could never, ever come to fruition.

She struck out for Saint Swithin’s alone. Sophie had broken off her engagement with Lieutenant Cantrill and would no longer be attending any veterans’ group meetings. The lieutenant was probably still home in Brightgate, so he wouldn’t be there. It promised to be a rather small crowd with no familiar faces. She infinitely preferred the familiar. At the mere thought of confronting a lot of strangers, Lucy began twirling a lock of her dark hair with her fingers. But then, it was either this or sit at home where she would have the option of listening to Sophie wail or sitting at her window seat and stare at the walls, replaying her conversation with James in her mind over and over. Action was definitely preferable to moping about the house.

The weather was gray, and storm clouds gathered menacingly on the horizon. It was going to be a wet walk home, quite likely. She scanned the skies with an anxious glance. Perhaps she could stay in the church until the storm passed this afternoon. It would be horrid to get soaked to the bone, and the books would likely be ruined, as well.

She mounted the stone steps leading to Saint Swithin’s as hastily as ladylike behavior would allow. Bother. The satchel with the books was so dreadfully heavy. Why had she brought so many? She’d have to start a lending library and leave the books in the chapel. She’d ask Reverend Stephens if that would be a welcome thing. It would certainly save her back and shoulders to do so.

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