The Vicar's Wife

5

Someone cleared their throat softly, and Miss Foster glanced about, discovering more attention than wanted directed at her. Quite a few were staring. Flushing, but still angry at the faintly uncharitable comment regarding her Mr Forsythe, she glanced back at the young man before her.

"I believe I shall not be dancing the rest of the evening, sir. Thank you for the compliment of your attention."

A bit of light left the young man's eyes, though his smile remained in place. Bending over her hand, he kissed her knuckles gently.

"It seems I have caused offence, forgive me. Mr Forsythe must be a lucky man indeed. I shall not detain you, Miss Foster."

"Good evening, Mr Gooding."

Stiffly walking away, her heart beating hard Hattie made her way to the punch bowl, her fingers trembling as she poured a cup. Soft whispers of conversation drifted to her, tiny snatches that made tears push at her eyes. Her outburst had provided fodder for gossip-

"Miss Foster?" The murmur made her turn, then drop into a curtsey.

"Lady Benedict!"

"No, no, dear Miss Foster, don't, you'll wrinkle your gown." A gentle hand slid under her elbow as the lady drew the girl to her side. "We are not strangers, after all, and have already said our greetings."

"I suppose." Hattie looked somewhat miserable. "I am incautious, silly... perhaps even reckless. Have I reproached myself beyond repair, do you think?"

"Oh no," the lady smiled at her encouragingly. "That little display was nothing at all and given the apparent depth of your attachment to the gentleman, I do venture to say it was appropriate."

"Really?"

"I should say so." Tender brown eyes looked at her from a composed, still face. "If we cannot stand up for those who have earned our affection, how can we stand by their side in the trials to come?"

"I know I am fickle-" Hattie started, her eyes wide. Lady Benedict put a placating hand on her shoulder.

"I knew a young lady once, very much like you. I mourn the loss of her still. Let wisdom touch you, Miss Foster, but I bid you...do not lose your innocence and spirit. It is charming."

They were moving slowly about the edge of the ballroom, arms linked. At her soft comment, Hattie turned in surprise to face the Marchioness.

"Do you mean that? For simply everyone speaks to me as though I am little more than a child and should attempt a more serious approach to life."

"Experience brings the necessary government of our emotions, but I pray yours comes tenderly, with no bitter regrets."

"Like- oh," Hattie bit her lip hard, looking away. She'd been about to speak of the black gossip surrounding the Marchioness' past. Lady Benedict seemed to sense it.

"I have found deep, abiding happiness, Miss Foster. I pray you find the same."

"Thank you, my lady."

Gently kissing her cheek, Lady Benedict moved off, received with smiles by a cluster of older women, one of whom was her aunt by marriage, the widow Mrs Ludlow.

"Hattie," her mother's voice made the girl cringe guiltily. "What did she say to you?"

"She only wished me joy, Mamma-"

"Hattie!" The soft cry came from ahead, a golden-red head bobbing into view as a vivacious young lady appeared in flowing yellow taffeta. "How nice to see you here!"

"Julia?" Stunned, Hattie could only stare. She not seen Julia Stafford since coming home from finishing school three years ago. "What do you do here? Your family resides in Plymouth!"

"No longer! Father just took possession of a fine house in town, and we are to remain in London indefinitely! Isn't it delightful!"

"Indeed it is!" They joined hands, smiling. "Mamma, you recall Miss Julia Stafford."

"I do. Miss Stafford, how is your mother?"

"Tolerable, ma'am, I thank you."

"Mamma, might I walk with Miss Julia? It's been ages since we've spoken!"

"As long as you mind your behaviour, dear." It was a firm reminder, and Hattie's gaze dropped.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Off with you then."

The girls moved off arm in arm, talking excitedly in low tones. Julia glanced back over her shoulder.

"Have you been misbehaving yet again, Hattie? Your mamma looked very severe just now."

"I'm afraid I did cause a little bit of a stir. Nothing overly serious, though."

"What caused this stir?"

"An offhanded remark about a certain young vicar. Julia, I was simply forced to stand up for him."

"A 'certain young vicar', Hattie?" Julia's expression brightened. "Who is this man?"

"My intended, Julia. He asked for my hand, and I have accepted him."

Miss Stafford's response was a high squeal as she threw her arms about her school friend, squeezing hard.

"How delightful, Hattie! Simply marvellous! You must tell me all! Every last detail!"

Hattie held nothing back as she spoke of every errand, every detail of the upcoming event. Her blue eyes burned with the delight of a girl in love. She did not notice the glint of jealousy grow in her companion's eyes, nor the way she listened more and more quietly. When she did at last look to her friend, Miss Foster went silent for a moment.

"Julia, dear, whatever is the matter? Have you gone ill?"

"Not at all, Hattie. I am just all a flutter by your news. A country vicar? No one in our class at school would have ever guessed you to settle for such a humble position in life, not when you are quite pretty enough to catch the eye of a Baron."

"Do you suggest I marry beneath me, Julia? That the match is somehow reprehensible?"

"Not at all, dear Hattie!" Julia's eyes held a calculating look, shadowed over with kindness. "He sounds like an excellent man, but my friend, you have never been one to settle for a quiet life! How should you feel to sit at home instead of going to the best parties, or the theatre?"

"I shouldn't like it, but Julia-"

"Just what do you imagine your life to be, Hattie? Do you imagine a vicar to have the same income and lifestyle as men of your station?"

"My station?" Hattie laughed a little. "I am a gentleman's daughter, not a duchess! Though Papa is well off and has left me a respectable dowry, I am not rich. Marriage to another gentleman, or a country vicar, would be very respectable!"

"Of course it would! I only seek to ensure that you have considered the repercussions of such a match...that is all."

"I love him, Julia. That is what I know, and he loves me."

"Sweet Hattie," Julia laughed, squeezing her friend's hand tight. "You cannot live on love alone...but I wish you every happiness."

"Thank you, Julia! Now, as shocking as you will find this, enough about me! Tell me all about yourself, and how the extraordinary event of your being here has come to be!"

They chatted and talked merrily for nearly an hour before a finely dressed figure caught Hattie's eye. She jerked to a stop with a gasp as the gentleman approached, her smile of delight wide. Jonathon Forsythe smiled back, opening his mouth to greet her when Julia Stafford turned, seeing him approach. He stopped short, shocked. Hattie glanced between them, confused, then stunned when her companion held out her hand.

"Mr Forsythe...how delighted I am to see you once again! How well you look since last we met!"

"Miss Stafford," he took her hand, though his eyes darted to Hattie's. "I am surprised to see you here."