The Heart of a Vicar by Sarah M Eden

Author:Sarah M Eden [Eden, Sarah M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: challenge, Regency, clean, vicar, Historical, parting, disaster, raomnce, Love, neighbors, Second Chance, church, young love
ISBN: 9781524408633
Publisher: Covenant Communications
Published: 2019-05-31T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Sarah sat in Lady Lampton’s sitting room, equally intrigued and nervous at the possibility that Harold might come to visit his sister-in-law. Her mind had been filled with him in the fortnight since she’d seen him hanging precariously from the side of the abbey ruins. She didn’t know which emotion was her strongest when thinking back on that moment: fear that he might fall or relief at finally seeing him shed, however momentarily, the stiff façade he’d adopted. The Harold she had known was still there. She saw him now and then but never more than briefly.

She’d spent some time pondering his declaration that vicars don’t climb walls. Though she personally would not be put off by a man of the church embracing such an odd pastime, provided he didn’t neglect his duties, she could not deny that not everyone would likely feel the same. Had he earned enough of his parishioners’ loyalty and trust to allow them to see this part of him? Was it even possible to?

“That purple is the perfect shade for that flower.” Mater examined Sarah’s embroidery. “This is going to be lovely.”

She pulled her thoughts back to the moment. “And I have you to thank for it. I’ve wanted to make something to brighten up my rooms at Sarvol House, but I could not convince my uncle to splurge for fabric or embroidery thread.”

“Is your pin money not sufficient?” Philip sat on a sofa across the way, Sorrel beside him, reclining against him. He had carried her from her bed to the adjacent sitting room but then hadn’t had the heart to leave. There was an aching worry in his attachment to her, a way of looking at his wife that spoke clearly of his struggle to remain hopeful.

“He does not provide me with pin money,” Sarah confessed, preferring to focus on her own difficulties if it would take Philip’s and Sorrel’s minds off theirs. “Scott, however, has managed to sneak me a bit of coin now and then, and I find flowers from him in my room regularly, the same sweet little purple ones each time. I’m not certain where he gets them; Sarvol House doesn’t have a conservatory or hot house.”

“Are you certain they aren’t from the blacksmith?” Philip asked with a grin. “I understand he is still quite amused by your expertise in feats of strength.”

Mater laughed. “How I wish I had been here to see that.”

Sarah liked their reaction to her rather odd undertaking far more than her uncle’s. “My uncle disapproved quite heartily. Apparently, so did the Hamptons.”

“The Hamptons disapprove of everything.” Sorrel spoke weakly, quietly. She was pale, her eyelids heavy, the darkness of illness and fatigue beneath her eyes. She looked worse every time Sarah visited.

Philip kept his arm around her, his usually jovial expression showing a bit of strain. “I’m certain they even disapprove of themselves, though they aren’t sure what to make of that.”

Sorrel smiled up at him. “At least they are in agreement with everyone else.

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