To Love and to Cherish by Patricia Gaffney

Author:Patricia Gaffney [Gaffney, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781101631744
Google: bdb3lwm5cVUC
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2013-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

XIII

Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea thunder and all that is in it; let the field be joyful and all that is therein. Then shall all the trees of the wood shout for joy before the Lord, for he cometh, for he cometh to judge the earth.

WHEN HE COMETH to judge the earth, thought Anne, I will be in trouble. Because I tried to corrupt one of his finest creations.

Sitting in her warm, padded, D’Aubrey family pew, she lifted her gaze from her prayer book and let it rest on Christy. He was reading the 96th Psalm, his Bible in his left hand, gesturing with his right with smooth, slow, hypnotic movements, perfectly in tune with the psalm’s joyful message. His vestments were white today, in celebration of Christmas. In the light of the altar candles, his graceful robes glowed like mother-of-pearl, and his gorgeous golden hair gleamed with a radiance she could only call heavenly.

Heavenly? Good Lord. But it was true; what she thought of as his militant angel quality always seemed to intensify when he had on his liturgical garments and was backlit by candles and crucifixes. If he had suddenly sprouted wings and brandished a fiery sword, she doubted anyone in the congregation would have been surprised.

And she’d tried to seduce him. If the memory of that afternoon in Molly’s stall weren’t so vivid, she’d have thought it a hallucination. Seduce the vicar of All Saints? Look at him! He was reading the Collect, preparatory to the Lesson and the sermon—she could follow the liturgy now like a seasoned congregationist—and his voice rang with the absolute conviction that God’s only Son was born of a pure virgin and became a man. She lowered her eyes, ashamed. If there was a God, she’d have to ask his pardon; but since there wasn’t, she guessed she’d have to ask Christy’s.

She hadn’t seen him alone since their encounter in the stables. He’d invited her—in a note—to attend the adult choir’s Advent program, and she went, not knowing what to expect. As it turned out, there was nothing to expect; after the singing, he disappeared. On some church business, no doubt, but she didn’t want to ask Reverend Woodworth exactly what. And once he’d come to the Hall to ride Devil, but he left immediately afterward without coming to the house or trying to see her; she wouldn’t even have known about it if William Holyoake hadn’t mentioned it to her. Since then, nothing.

It meant he’d come to his senses, and that was a good thing. That was the best thing that could happen. Yes, yes, yes, but why did she feel so let down? All that heat, all that new, forbidden wanting, the excitement, and the hard, wrenching denial in the end—gone! And apparently forgotten by him, as if it had never been. Could he really have discarded her that easily? Written her off as a risk not worth taking? An occasion

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