Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman (11 page)

He should
not
be thinking of Miss
Cooper as lovely, or beautiful, or any way other than one of his
parishioners. No, he could not visit her now. He could not afford
to get too close to her or her father. What would people think? If
he spent too much time at their home those in town might begin to
wonder and the last thing he wanted were rumors started about him.
Or worse, speculation with regard to him and Miss Cooper.

It was better to visit his brother. Jordan
was a blood relative and mattered to him more than anyone at the
moment. It was important they mend their differences before the
hearing and certainly before Jordan returned to London. His brother
needed his help just as much as the Cooper family at the
moment.

Matthew rode the horse out of the wood to
meet the road and turned the mare toward town. He would not be
deterred, no matter how much he wanted to see Miss Cooper.

Grace leaned back in the leather chair behind
her father’s large oak desk. She anchored her elbow onto the arm
and rested her head in her left hand. Though she had been frugal
since her father’s accident, the funds from the milk and eggs with
her earnings for Sunday school did not begin to replace her
father’s annual income as the local solicitor prior to his injury.
They were not desperate yet, but in another year or so she knew
they would need to let Mrs. Thomas go. But then where would they
be? The woman cooked for them and Grace could barely make tea. Her
father would starve.

She leaned forward and closed the ledger.
Staring at the columns was not going to increase their accounts.
Grace put the book in the top drawer and picked up the list she
began this morning. Three names were written, Mrs. Thomas, Perkins
and Vicar Trent. They were the only people who agreed to testify
that her father was of sound mind.

If only Lord Crew would return. She sent a
note to him earlier in the day, but knew it would not arrive in
time and even if it did, it was not possible for Lord Crew to
return to assist. She should not have bothered the man, but she was
compelled to do so nonetheless. Lord Crew was her father’s closest
friend and he would be more upset had he not been informed.

Grace stood and walked to the window to look
out of the rolling hills. There were few people she could call on.
She already asked the Otten’s, when she delivered milk this
morning. Though they wished they could help, Mr. Otten said he
wasn’t confident her father was in his right mind. The man hadn’t
once visited since the accident so how could he possibly know about
her father’s health. It would serve him right if the cows gave them
sour milk tomorrow.

She shook the uncharitable thought from her
mind. She was a better person than this. Still, the entire
situation made her angry. Ten families had been listed and this
morning she visited each, all to be turned away without an offer of
hope. What was she to do?

“Your father is taking his tea on the
terrace, Miss Cooper.”

Grace turned to Mrs. Thomas who stood in the
door. She had not realized it was so late. “I will be along
momentarily.”

Grace folded the list and put it in the
drawer. She would think more on this later, after her visit with
father.

It was another crisp fall day, her favorite
time of the year. Unfortunately it would turn cold soon and she
reminded herself to check the wood supply for the winter.

“Good afternoon, Father. Did you have a nice
rest?” She took the seat to his left. His only response was a
slight smile and short nod of his head.

Mrs. Thomas poured her a cup of tea and
excused herself to go back inside. Grace added a lump of sugar
before she sipped from her cup. If only Vicar Trent were here,
perhaps he would have a suggestion or two. No, that wasn’t
possible. He lived here barely two weeks and didn’t know the
residents nearly as well as she did. On the other hand, he was the
vicar and if he appealed to them for help they would have to agree,
wouldn’t they? The idea needed further consideration.

Grace sighed and sank back in her chair.
Never had she met such a serious man. Perhaps it was his vocation
that required him to be so. No, Vicar Merker laughed often. And
Vicar Trent’s brother was certainly not without humor or charm. But
Vicar Trent was the more compassionate of the two. The way his eyes
warmed when he assured her of his help. Just his quiet strength
gave her hope. He was also the more handsome of the two, without
question. They may look much alike, but Vicar Trent had much bluer
eyes, straighter nose, firmer cheek bones and very nice lips.

Grace jerked at the thought and spilled the
tea on her dress. Goodness, whatever possessed her to think of
Vicar Trent’s lips. He was her vicar! Oh dear, surely there was
something sacrilege about her thoughts.

She sighed and settled back, not bothering to
dab the dampness from her skirt. At the moment she didn’t care. It
wasn’t like anyone came to call and would notice and why change
into another dress?

Melancholy settled around her. If she did
marry, she would have a husband to protect her family. Grace turned
to her father. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe it would be best if I
married.”

He tilted his head and watched her intently,
giving no indication with either his eyes or a smile that he agreed
or disagreed.

“I am just not sure Misters Richards, Draker
or Thorn would be a good match.” Were there no other gentlemen to
consider in the parish? The more she thought about it the more she
realized those were the only possible candidates at the moment. The
rest were too old, too young or already married.

Grace leaned back, closed her eyes and tried
to imagine living in a house with any of the men. None of them
looked right sitting at the head of the table, as if they didn’t
fit. A vision of Vicar Trent sitting at the head of the table came
to her. He smiled and his eyes shone with warmth. Odd that she
would think of him as smiling for he rarely did. He had a lovely
smile and she needed to see to it that he smiled more.

A continual clank, clank, clank brought Grace
out of her train of thought and she looked at her father. His gaze
was fixed straight ahead, unblinking. His left hand stirred the
spoon in a now empty cup. She was on her feet in a moment and
pulled the table away from her father’s reach so he would not be
injured.

“Perkins,” she yelled at the top of her voice
and grabbed for the wooden spoon always kept in her pocket.

The tremors began as Perkins came to the
terrace and he helped Grace lay her father on the ground. She slid
the spoon between his teeth just before they clamped down and his
eyes rolled back in his head. They kept a firm hand on his shoulder
to keep him from flaying about until the fit passed. Grace breathed
a sigh of relief when his jaw went slack, and his eyes closed with
the end of the convulsions.

“Miss Cooper, may I be of assistance?”

Grace looked up to find Vicar Trent standing
in the doorway. He may have addressed her but his eyes were on her
father lying prone on the terrace. She hated for anyone to witness
her father’s episodes and nobody had since those first months. They
already thought him not to be of sound mind. What would they think
if they knew he still suffered from these attacks? What would Uncle
Henry do when he found out?

“No, everything is taken care of.”

Her father stirred and she glanced down at
him. Confusion marred his brow. Grace smoothed his worried
forehead. “You had a spell, Papa, but all is well now.”

He tried to sit and Perkins put his arm
beneath his employer’s shoulder and brought him to a sitting
position. This was always the most difficult part. Father could
barely walk on his own and sometimes getting him off the ground was
near impossible for her and the valet.

“Here, let me assist.” Vicar Trent was at her
side in a moment and she moved out of the way. Between the vicar
and the valet, they had her father on his feet and were assisting
him into a chair.

“Father should be taken to bed. He usually
sleeps for a full day following these incidents.”

Her father reached for his cane and attempted
to stand but his limbs were still weak. “I will be happy to help
get your father settled,” Vicar Trent insisted, and allowed the
valet to lead him as they escorted father from the terrace.

She busied herself putting the table back in
place and stacking the cups on the tray. What was the vicar
thinking now? He promised to help at the hearing but would he
change his mind after witnessing the episode. Her father hadn’t had
one in months and she just wished she knew what brought them
on.

Mrs. Thomas came out with a new tea service
and a plate of delicacies. “Is your father recovered, Miss
Cooper?”

“For the moment, I suppose.”

She set the tray on the table and leaned
forward. Her hand clasped Grace’s. “I’ve known you since you were a
child, a friend to your mother, and your father before the
accident. I will never breathe a word of this and you still have my
promise to help when the time comes.”

Grace had not asked for reassurance, but was
glad for it nonetheless. She just hoped the housekeeper’s testimony
pulled some weight with the magistrate. “Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. It
means more to me than you could know.”

The woman gave Grace’s hand one last squeeze
before she picked up the first tea service and disappeared into the
house.

“Has your father always had these episodes?”
Vicar Trent asked.

Grace looked up. She was not even aware he
had returned. “No. Only since the accident.” She was drained of
everything, exhausted.

“May I?” He indicated to the empty seat.

Goodness, where were her manners? “Yes…
please … I am sorry…”

His smile was kind. “Do not concern
yourself.”

She poured him a cup of tea before she
offered him the plate of cakes.

“Does he have spells often?”

Grace would love to pretend Vicar Trent did
not witness what he obviously did, and try to convince him it was
something different, safer, altogether, but knew it was impossible,
nor would she lie. “That is the first one he has had in three
months.”

“I am glad they are not more frequent, for
both you and your father.”

Vicar Trent had yet to take a drink from his
cup or bite into the cake he took earlier. The questions gnawed at
her and knew she needed to find out now before it drove her insane.
“Will you still support my father?” She blurted out.

Vicar Trent straightened and his eyebrows
rose as if stunned by the question. “Of course. Why would I
not?”

“Because others thought him afflicted in his
mind when the spells first occurred.”

“Right after the accident?” He picked up the
lemon cake and sampled it.

“Yes. When we still had visitors. After
neighbors and friends witnessed a spell, they did not come back.
That is when everyone decided my father no longer possessed all of
his faculties.”

Vicar Trent shook his head. “It pains me to
admit this, but sometimes people can be narrow-minded.”

Grace couldn’t agree more. The village where
she had grown up was no exception.

“I am relieved you will not abandon us at
this time. Thank you.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “It is my
pleasure.”

As the tension from the incident with her
father and the unexpected arrival of Vicar Trent eased from her and
Grace began to relax. She poured herself a fresh cup of tea and
decided to try and enjoy what was left of the afternoon. Perkins
would sit with her father, but she knew he would sleep.

“I do have news.”

She perked up and looked to him.

“Brachton returned this afternoon.”

Grace thought her heart had stopped. She was
supposed to have more time than this.

“Your uncle has an appointment to meet with
him tomorrow, along with my brother.”