My Lord Protector by Deborah Hale

Author:Deborah Hale
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

On Julianna’s parish rounds the next day, the subject of Laurence Bayard rose from an unexpected quarter.

“God rest you, milady... reverend missus!” The irrepressible Mr. Warbeck accosted the ladies. “Busy with all your good works, I see. The vicar tells us God saves by grace alone. A pity some folk use that as an excuse to leave off being charitable to their neighbors. I hear as how His Lordship is up at the big house these days, what, Lady Fitzhugh?”

Julianna seldom missed a day in the village without her budget of gossip from Old Charlie. It was no secret he doted on Sir Edmund’s young bride and his fondness was amply reciprocated. “Yes. Mr. Warbeck. Lord Marlwood and his sister came down over a fortnight ago.”

Mr. Warbeck blew his crimson-veined nose. “That’s one young coxcomb, what?” he chortled. “Clean spoiled by his stuck-up mother. Miss Vanessa was a merry lass when she were young. I mind how she’s quite a little minx now though, getting up to three kinds of mischief in the City. Mark you—” he wagged his forefinger “—they were once a fine family, the Bayards. The branch with the best of that old blood is Captain Fitzhugh’s. Be a sad shame to see it die out.”

Julianna had suffered enough heavy-handed hints from Charlie Warbeck all summer to know where this was leading. She placed her hands decidedly upon her hips, in the manner of Mrs. Tully.

“If wishes could get babies, Mr. Warbeck, I know your good auspices would see Abbot’s Leigh with a full nursery. However, as that is not the case, you had better leave the matter to my husband and me.”

The old fellow cackled and slapped his knee. “You’re not half a tart one, lass! I knew the captain wouldn’t suffer no meek, mewling mouse of a wife. A good job you’re winsome enough to get away with all. ‘pon my word, I won’t open my mouth about babes again. You’ll not stop me prayin’ on it, though.”

When Julianna turned back to the vicar’s wife, Arabella was shaking her head. “That one never stands on ceremony, does he? I believe I like the old demon all the better for it.”

No sooner had she pronounced that sentence than the blood drained from the woman’s face and she slumped against a nearby stile.

“Arabella!” Julianna flew to catch the vicar’s wife in her arms and ease her to the ground.

“Mr. Warbeck!” she cried. “Have someone go for the vicar!”

Rather than call for one of the children, the stooped old figure scurried off in the direction of the vicarage. Arabella’s eyelids were beginning to flutter when her husband marched up and scooped her into his arms. Without a word to Julianna, he carried his wife back toward their home, crooning her name. Julianna followed behind, embarrassed to intrude upon their intimacy but concerned that he understand what had taken place. She hovered in the vicarage parlor for some time, until Reverend Trowbridge descended the stairs. He appeared surprised to find her waiting.

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