Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman (12 page)

Matthew wished he did not have to deliver
such news on the heels of her father’s episode or fit or whatever
he just suffered from.

“But, I am not ready. Father will not be
ready.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

He reached over and squeezed her right hand
in an offer of comfort. The warmth spread up his arm and his
fingers tingled where they rested on her skin. What was he
thinking? He should not be touching her in such a familiar manner
and he drew back, trying not to jerk his hand away with too much
force, but a mere touch had never affected him so strongly. “I plan
on accompanying them.”

Her shoulders sagged with what he assumed was
relief.

“I will not let them make any decisions
without you and without a hearing. And, I certainly will not let
them push for an early hearing. I will try and convince them to put
it off for a day or two so your father will be recovered.’

“Thank you.” She looked up at him, eyes
grateful. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Vicar
Trent.”

Heat warmed his cheeks. “It is my
pleasure.”

Miss Cooper looked down, silent and sipped
from her cup. He wished he knew of some way to offer peace, but
suspected she would have none until the hearing was over.

“Why the sudden interest from your uncle? As
I understand it, your father’s accident was a few years ago?”

She startled and looked up at him, eyes wide
with surprise. He didn’t mean to blurt out the question in such a
rude manner, but it was something that weighed on his mind.

“I do not know. It isn’t as if he had
anything to gain from my father being committed. The house and land
is willed to me, as my dowry, for my husband to take over once I am
married.” Miss Cooper shrugged. “The letters from Draker, Thorn and
Richards must have been the encouragement for him to visit at this
time.”

“A guardian would have almost as much control
as a husband, if he could prove his actions were a benefit to the
estate as a whole,” Matthew prompted.

“I suppose.” Miss Cooper sighed. “Don’t you
think I am a bit old to have a guardian?”

“You are in a rather odd predicament.”
Matthew picked up his cup and sipped. He did not want Miss Cooper
to worry about the outcome of the hearing, but she also needed to
think about what would become of her if her father was committed.
“You get all of this,” he gestured to the house and land, “if your
father were to pass away.”

Miss Grace narrowed her eyes, suddenly
alert.

He was simply making an observation, not
thinking of adding his name to the list of becoming leg shackled to
her. “Which I hope does not happen for a long time,” Matthew was
quick to assure her. “Yet, if your uncle wins, this is not yours,
but goes to the guardian for your father and you.”

“Leaving me with nothing.” She sighed again.
“Not that we have much now. The dairy barely makes enough to put
food on the table.”

“It is still a working dairy?” Matthew
couldn’t recall any servants or workers.

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Though not much of
one.”

“Who does all the work?”

“I do.”

Surely she didn’t run the dairy and take care
of the house and her father. It was too much for a gently bred
woman such as Miss Cooper. She should have someone taking care of
her, easing her life.

“I milk the cows and gather the eggs in the
morning. Sometimes I hire a neighbor boy to make the deliveries,
and sometimes I do it myself.”

“You must rise with the sun.”

“Earlier, actually.” She chuckled. “We sold
half of the cows when I knew father wouldn’t recover and then
little by little we had to let our servants go until only Perkins,
father’s valet, remained.”

“I thought your father had been a solicitor,
not a farmer.”

“He was,” she answered. “The dairy farm
brought in extra income and he enjoyed being a gentleman farmer.” A
gentle smile formed on her lips. “But we had others who did the
work on the farm. I took over when we couldn’t afford to keep our
employees any longer. I had to keep it operating because it is now
the only income we have.”

Matthew remembered the first service she
attended, rushing into the door late and then Mrs. Montgomery
chastised her. He hadn’t understood then the importance of the cows
and why they had delayed her. Even if he had, it was no reason for
him to have been so rude to Miss Cooper. But one glimpse at her
face that first day stirred something foreign in him and he still
could not come to grips with what it was, other than he was drawn
to her like he had never been to anyone else.

Miss Grace pushed her cup away. “I should
have married.”

“That certainly would solve everything. In
the event your uncle wins, you would be taken care of.”

“Instead, he may be my guardian, despite my
age, and have control of me and what is mine.”

“I am afraid so.” Matthew sat back, crossed
his legs and folded his arms across his chest. He would guess Miss
Cooper to be around twenty, but did not want to be so rude as to
ask her directly. If she were older, she could make the argument
that she could take care of herself and her father, but he knew
that no magistrate in his right mind would leave Miss Cooper to
fend for herself, let alone be in charge of her father and the land
at such a young age even though she had been doing exactly that for
two years.

“Why haven’t you married?” It probably was
none of his business, but he could not imagine why some gentleman
didn’t make her his wife.

A small smile came to her lips. “Only three
have shown interest, though none of them actually bothered to
ask.”

“If they were to ask?” He held his breath and
waited for her answer. Why did it bother him to think of Miss
Cooper married to someone else?

“I foolishly wished to wait for love.”

He reached over and touched her hand again.
“There is nothing foolish in wanting that. If more people married
for those reasons society would be happier as a whole.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I can’t imagine what
it is like in society, where matches are made without thought to
emotion.”

Thank goodness he had been a third son and
the same pressure had not been put upon him to marry and beget an
heir. Of course, in time, had his father lived, no doubt the man
would have been suggesting the perfect wife for his perfect vicar.
He inwardly shuddered at the type of bride his father would have
insisted upon; some sour-faced chit, pious and more suited to be a
martyr than a loving wife. Clay was lucky to have remained a
bachelor until he inherited the title and ended up with the right
woman for him. Matthew knew in his gut, had his father still lived,
Eleanor would not have been acceptable. Would Clay have gone
against Father?

Matthew shook the thought from his mind. It
didn’t matter. Clay was now settled and happier than he had ever
been allowed to be while father still lived.

Miss Cooper stood and walked around the
table. “I suppose I should give more thought to the three men who
have asked and try and determine who would be best for my
situation.”

The thought of Mr. Draker, Richards or Thorn
being married to her did not sit well with him. As her husband, the
man would have the right to touch her, hold her, kiss her and be
allowed all the intimacies marriage afforded. His stomach tightened
at the thought. He didn’t want anyone else kissing Miss Cooper.

“I will be back in a moment. I need to check
on Father.”

Matthew nodded and watched her walk through
the doors and into the parlor, the gentle sway of her muslin gown
giving only a hint to the body it hid.

The vehemence of wanting her for himself
washed over Matt. He barely knew her, yet he wanted nobody else to
have her.

He stood quickly, his emotions unsettled at
this new revelation, and tried to concentrate on the issue at hand.
Matthew needed to think of what was best for Miss Cooper, not what
he longed for or what his body desired.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and
groaned. For years he had been able to ignore the natural urges of
his body, keeping desire in check, knowing he could not taste of
the fruit until he was wedded. It had been ten years since he had
been with a woman. It had been so easy to put aside teachings of
chastity, infidelity, and dangers of seduction when you are
eighteen and for two full years he studied during the day and
visited the stews of London at night. He and Jordan had a fine time
back then. Until his father learned.

Visiting whores was perfectly acceptable for
his older brother, but not for Matt. Not if he were to be a perfect
vicar. With the threat of his allowance being cut off, and the last
time his father had actually struck him, Matthew turned his focus
on the Bible once again and tried not to think of pleasures of the
flesh. It had been difficult at first, but easier over time. Yet,
Miss Cooper heated his blood like no woman before. If he married
her, he would no longer have to deny the one thing missing from his
life.

Yet, it wasn’t fair to offer for her simply
because he wished to bed her.

He turned away from the house and strode to
the edge of the terrace. What was he thinking? He should not be
wondering what it would be like to bed one of his parishioners,
especially at a time like this when her life was in turmoil. She
didn’t need some randy vicar pawing at her. She needed his shoulder
to cry on, his support in the hearing, and nothing else.

Grace stepped back outside to find Vicar
Trent had moved away from the table and was standing at the edge of
the terrace. Was he going to leave? Her heart skipped a beat. She
didn’t want him to go just yet. There was a comfort in his presence
that she was not ready to relinquish.

She quickly chastised herself. Vicar Trent
had other parishioners besides herself. She was sure many of them
had concerns that affected them as deeply as hers and she should
not monopolize his time.

“He is asleep, as I suspected. Perkins is
sitting with him.”

Vicar Trent turned to look at her. A frown
marred his brow. Was he upset with her again? Had she said
something wrong?

He marched forward and grasped her upper arms
gently. “Do not marry simply to save your father. You will never be
happy in such an arrangement.”

What had come over him? “I will be happy if I
know my father is cared for and living with me.”

“Will any of the men you mentioned allow you
to be his caregiver?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Vicar
Trent rushed forward. “Richards would keep your father here,
servants surrounding him, which is well and good, but you would
only be allowed to visit on occasion.”

How did he know Mr. Richards’ plans? Had the
two spoken of this?

“Thorn at least would bring your father to
his house so you could continue your care, but how would your
father be affected by no longer living in his comfortable
surroundings?”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Had Vicar
Trent been listening that first day he came to call?

“Who knows what plans Draker has, but the way
he speaks down to you, I doubt you would be allowed an opinion on
what is best for your father.”

“You were listening that day?”

His cheeks developed a light pink hue. “I
couldn’t help not to. Your father had his ear toward the window
taking in every word spoken.”

“Oh dear, I didn’t want him to know. It is
horrible the way people talk about him. I wouldn’t want Papa
hurt.”

“You father wasn’t hurt.” Vicar Trent grasped
her with a bit more force, but not hurting her. “He worries about
you.”

“Papa shouldn’t worry about me. It is I who
should care for him.”

Vicar Trent chuckled and shook his head. “A
father will worry about his daughter until the day she is happily
settled, and should.”

Grace took in a deep breath and sighed. “Did
he wish for me to accept one of them?” Perhaps she should ask her
father which would be the best choice. If he had a preference then
she would accept that man’s suit.

“I don’t think so.”

Relief shot through her. Grace really didn’t
want to be married to any of her three choices. None of them made
her skin heat when they touched her, unlike Vicar Trent. None of
them made her want to kiss their lips when their face was so close,
as Vicar Trent’s was right now and only a breath away. None of them
excited her, or made her long to be held and comforted, as she
wished Vicar Trent would do right now.

Oh, she was surely wicked and wanton for
wanting such from a vicar. It must be because of all the stress she
was under. If everything were normal, surely she wouldn’t be having
such inappropriate thoughts.

His eyes bore into hers. Could he read her
mind? Heat stole into her cheeks. She licked her lips, her mouth
suddenly dry. His focus changed to her mouth.