The Vicar's Widow

He could not begin to understand why she might be avoiding him. The afternoon they had spent in the old boathouse had been the most blissful of all his days on this earth, and he was at a loss to understand how she couldn’t feel at least a bit of that, too.

Naturally, he imagined all manner of things—she regretted their lovemaking (but what living, breathing adult could regret that fantastic experience?); she had been found out by her father (but the chap seemed rather cheerful, all in all); or that she was truly ill (but she had been the picture of health).

Nothing made sense.

One thing Darien knew in all certainty—she’d not miss church services, and that morning, he donned his finest clothes and strode to church quite early. So early, in fact, he arrived before the vicar.

As the other parishioners began to arrive, he stood on the church steps, watching closely for Kate, greeting friends and acquaintances rather gruffly so that he’d not be engaged in some lengthy conversation and miss her slipping by.

His best friend, Freddie, found his behavior insupportable. “I’m not in the habit of remarking on your bad manners, my lord,” he said with a sniff, “but that was the prime minister you just cut.”

“I have no doubt that the prime minister will recover from any perceived slights,” Darien said, scanning the crowd.

“What in the devil has you so wrought?” Freddie demanded. “I’ve not seen you this way in all the years we’ve known each other!”

Darien said nothing but managed more of a smile for the Forsythes as they climbed the church steps toward him.

Freddie followed the direction of his smile and laughed. “Aha! I should have known that the rumors are true, eh, Montgomery? You’ve set your heart on a female, have you?”

“W-what?” Darien stammered and jerked his gaze to Freddie; his first awful thought that Freddie somehow knew about Kate. “What did you say?”

Freddie laughed again and clapped him soundly on the shoulder. “You needn’t be coy with me, my friend. You are, after all, quite human, and therefore, it stands to reason that even you, a confirmed and steadfast bachelor, might find happiness with a budding debutante. I daresay you’ve chosen one of the comelier ones. Dear God, there were some frightfully ugly ones in this year’s crop, but I’ve quite admired this one myself.”

It took a moment for Darien to understand what Freddie was saying, then found it incredulous that his oldest and dearest friend could possibly believe that a man of his years and experience would be smitten by a mere child such as Miss Forsythe.

“My lord!” Mr. Forsythe called.

Darien forced himself to turn and greet the Forsythes cordially, and as he did so, he couldn’t help but look long and hard at Miss Forsythe. He supposed she was pleasant enough, but she could not have been more than seventeen, perhaps eighteen years of age. She blushed furiously when he looked at her, and clasped her hands tightly together while her beaming mother proudly looked on, and her father herded the family inside.

Freddie chuckled again. “Rather shy, ain’t she?”

Darien frowned at Freddie. “I’ve not the slightest interest in her,” he said sternly. “Anyone who says I do is quite mistaken.”

“Not me,” Freddie said, throwing up his hands. “I’ve only heard it. Lady Southbridge told me at tea just yesterday.”

“Good morning!” Mr. Anglesey called out as he passed them with his aging mother.

“Morning,” Darien and Freddie echoed, and as he passed, Freddie nudged Darien. “There’s another one,” he said low.

“Another what?”

“Another bachelor who has called on the vicar’s widow of late. Had that at tea, too, you know. Seems rather a string of them have been calling, hoping to find the same success as Connery.”

Darien glared at Freddie. “The same success?”

Freddie chuckled. “You’re intent on slaying the messenger, are you, my lord? Just another bit of gossip from Lady Southbridge. It would seem the widow has removed her widow’s weeds and embraced life,” he said with a wink.

“I shan’t allow you to speak of Mrs. Becket thus, Frederick,” Darien said icily. “Hasn’t the lady suffered enough without the entire ton speaking ill of her?”

Freddie’s eyes rounded wide. “My, my, Lord Montgomery. I had no idea you were the defender of widows and the suitor of young girls. And here I believed I knew you well.”

“You know me well enough,” Darien snapped as the church bells began to toll for the final call to services. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I should join my sister and her family.”

Freddie very sarcastically extended one leg and bowed long over it as Darien passed by on his way inside. He didn’t care in the least; his mind was churning with what Freddie had said.