The Affectionate Adversary by Palmer Catherine

Author:Palmer, Catherine [Palmer, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Religious fiction
ISBN: 9781414327327
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2006-02-28T20:00:00+00:00

Eleven

When the cottage door burst open, Sarah looked up in surprise. “Mr. Locke! I supposed you and my sister were returned to Bamberfield by now.”

Seated in a chair beside the open fire, she cradled a baby in her arms. Two small children knelt beside her as she rocked their infant sister in an effort to calm the scene of hysterics in which she had found herself earlier. Now Charles Locke stood in the open doorway, rain dripping from the thatched roof outside and thunder rolling overhead. He studied Sarah for a moment. Then he doffed his top hat and shut the door behind him.

“Sarah, may I ask what on earth you are doing?”

“I am singing.” She lifted her chin. “As you mentioned, I sang to you once—when you were as ill and troubled as these children.”

His blue eyes turned to the little ones who had pressed smudged faces up against her white skirt and wrapped scrawny arms around her legs. “We are expected at tea,” he reminded Sarah. “I believe Mrs. Heathhill anticipates our return within the hour.”

“Perhaps she does, but Mary can always find other ways to pass the time. If you wish, Charles, you may certainly go on to Bamberfield and take your tea. Send a carriage for me before dusk.”

“But that is many hours!”

“Indeed, and I have many baskets to deliver.”

He set his hands on his hips and exhaled a long breath. “My late mother often occupied herself in walking through our local village to distribute blankets and food. It was I who first informed her of the hungry cottagers, and she often took me along to carry the baskets for her. In this Christian deed, my mother discovered much joy and fulfillment. In bringing you here, I had hoped you might find the same.”

“At this moment, I feel only dismay,” she said, recalling the utter havoc she had observed upon first stepping into the room. “When I entered this cottage, baby Annie was wailing and the other two were in an uproar. Young Tommy had made every effort to comfort the baby, and having failed, he had become completely distraught and was threatening violence. Dear little Polly here was shrieking and weeping and racing about in an attempt to spare her sister from their brother’s wrath. None of them had eaten since dawn, and their fire had gone out. I calmed the baby with a spoonful of treacle from the basket, while Polly and Tommy assisted me in lighting the kindling. We sliced the pickled tongue and the bread, and as soon as the kettle is hot, we shall all feel much better.”

The small girl with a matted tangle of golden hair gazed up at Sarah. “Aye, Mrs. Carlyle,” she said around a mouthful of bread. “And then we shall have lemon drops.”

“Yes, we shall,” Sarah confirmed. “You see, Charles? I certainly could not leave until calm had been restored.”

“Why do you tell them your name is Mrs. Carlyle? You ought to—”

“Oh, Charles, they can hardly care about titles.

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