The Vicar's Wife

1

Chapters marked by an * are UPDATED as of 1 -27- 23

"Miss Foster!" His strained voice turned the girl about, eyes questioning. Upon seeing him, a dazzling smile graced her features.

"Mr Forsythe," a quick bend at the knee accompanied her warm greeting before she hurried to meet him. "How nice to see you here! I was not expecting it."

"Oh?" Slight disappointment fluttered across his features. "It has been my desire to have a chance to speak to you."

"Yes?" Perhaps it was spoken too eagerly, but Hattie's heart leapt with the possibility of his meaning. Did she dare have hope? "On what matter?"

"Well, I had hoped to discuss-"

"Hattie!" The interruption came from a lovely but cold-looking lady, and Miss Foster turned.

"Hello, Franny. You are acquainted withMr. Forsythe, I believe?"

The two silently acknowledged each other, although Franny Blumfeld's expression was decidedly disdainful. Her eyes returned to Miss Foster. A tight smile stretched her lips.

"Come, Hattie. I'm commissioned by your mother to introduce you to Sir Edward Cullen, of Bellrun Park. He is nephew of Lord Byron Davenport, you know, and stands to inherit a great fortune."

"Why should that matter to me, Franny?" A harsh blush crept over Hattie's face at the implication. Her friend cast her a scolding look.

"Obviously, silly, because he looks for a wife. What a fine match you will make, and we shall be neighbours upon my marriage to Sir Horace."

"Franny!" Miss Foster's tone was scandalized as her flush deepened. Guilty her eyes darted to the waiting vicar, whose expression had darkened.

"I have no desire to pursue Sir Edward's attention-"

"Don't be a simpleton," Franny continued, a faintly scathing look aimed at Jonathon Forsythe. "There are higher stations open to you, Hattie. A good match secures your future and invitations to the very best parties."

"There is more to life, Miss Blumfeld," Forsythe interjected but the lady scowled, her brow arched.

"Such as Sunday sermons and quaint country living? I'm certain that has merit, sir, but we must make the best we can...not settle for second best."

"Franny!" Hattie snapped the word, her blue eyes sparking. "You embarrass me in front of Mr Forsythe!"

"The vicar knows what I mean, don't you, sir." Dismissive, Miss Blumfeld turned away. "Come Hattie, I promised your mother an introduction."

Miss Foster felt an unusual surge of rebellion sweep through her, and her back stiffened. Expression cool, she nodded.

"One moment longer, Franny. Mr Forsythe," lowering her voice she moved slightly nearer the gentleman. "I'm afraid my attention is required elsewhere, but please, speak what was on your mind."

"I'm afraid it no longer matters, Miss Foster." With a polite bow, the handsome vicar took a step back. "I'll not detain you."

"Please let me decide," she urged quietly, ignoring Franny's blatant sigh of impatience. "What was it?"

"You truly want to know?" Startled, hope sprang to life in his eyes at her eager nod. "Well...I'd wanted to know, that is, would you do me a great honour, and consent to be my wife?"

To Franny Blumfeld's horror and astonishment, Hattie thrust her hands into the vicar's with a happy cry.

"Oh yes!"

"Wait- what?! Hattie-!" Franny's face went pale and slack with astonishment. "You cannot-!"

"I can!" Whirling around, her eyes sparkling with joy, the girl beamed proudly at her friend. "I say I can, and I shall!"

"What will your mother say!"

"I hardly know, but we shall find out soon enough. Come!" Tugging at her new fiancée's hand, Hattie set a fast pace back toward the low chatter and laughter of the picnic. Miss Blumfeld followed shaking her head, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events. Mr Foster was the first to see them coming, his sharp eyes focusing at once on how tightly his daughter's hand held to the country vicar's. The scowl across his brow was fleeting, replaced with a satisfied, knowing expression. Hattie marched right up to him.

"Father, Mr Forsythe has asked for my hand, and I've accepted."

"Has he," George Foster spoke in the abrupt quiet, gently swirling the tea in his glass. Although he meant to fully give his consent, it seemed a bit lax not to appear somewhat sceptical. Hattie, Lord help him, was the youngest of three and by far the most fearless, the most curious, and his favourite.

"You don't mean to refuse your blessing, surely," she spoke primly, with a tone of such certainty that he couldn't help but chuckle. His hand briefly touched her cheek.

"Of course not. I'm happy for you both. Vicar," his hand extended to the young man waiting. "I'd be pleased to have my daughter in your care."

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best to make her happy."

"What's this?" The trio turned as Mrs Foster joined them, endeavouring to look calm despite the tight set of her mouth. "Sudden rumours abound that Mr Forsythe asked for our Hattie's hand?"

"And I've accepted-!"

"I'll tell her, Hattie." George Foster gently interrupted, arching a brow to silence the girl's defiant tone. He turned back to his wife. "I have given them my blessing, dear. I am certain that will not disappoint you, as we've always acknowledged the young vicar to be a fine, sensible man. He'll do an admirable job of looking after our youngest girl. I'm sure."

Lucille Foster blinked rapidly, visibly forcing herself to accept this unexpected turn of events. When she held out her hands to the man, her smile was in place, and warm.

"Forgive me for not receiving the news with more joy, for I am caught completely off guard. How happy we will be to have you as part of our family."

"Thank you, ma'am." Jonathon Forsythe bowed over her hand, smiling calmly. "I have admired Miss Foster for some time and am honoured by your faith in me to do right by her."

"Yes, well, now that we have that out of the way," Mr Foster tapped his glass with his pocket watch, calling for everyone's attention. It was with wry amusement that he noted the entire party was already watching. He lifted his glass high. "My daughter has accepted an offer of marriage. Cheers to the happy couple!"

A loud cheer went up from the party, followed by much laughter, excited suggestions, and the beginnings of planning for the upcoming day.