The Vicar's Wife

6*

Stunned, Hattie stood silent as her school friend and her betrothed exchanged tolerable pleasantries. To her credit, her young face betrayed nothing of her feelings or thoughts, so when Mister Forsythe spoke to her, she smiled, meeting his eyes.

"Miss Foster, dear Hattie, I am quite surprised to discover you know Miss Stafford! Her family and mine are old friends. I had no idea you had gone to school together." No deceit lingered in his eyes or tone so she allowed herself to soften a little.

"Unsettling, no doubt, to find the different threads of our lives overlapping. Julia and I shared a room and wrote letters continuously after we'd gone home." She searched his face for any trace of affection toward her friend, finding none. "How is it you are acquainted with the family?"

"My mother was born in Plymouth and grew up on the same lane as the Staffords'. After her marriage to my father, they again ended up living on the same roadway. Our families spent many a night sharing a meal together." He explained softly, concerned over her unusual reserve.

"It was our parent's dearest hope that we should marry one day- oh!" Julia looked guiltily at Hattie, whose face had gone pale. "Forgive me, dear little friend! How thoughtless a thing of me to say! It was a slip of the tongue, an error of familiarity, Hattie. Oh, do say you're not angry,"

Miss Stafford's hand wrapped around Hattie's, though the young lady slowly pulled free, beginning to frown. The touch felt calculated, and on top of the fiasco with the invitations earlier, her good nature thinned. Clouds gathered in her eyes.

"I am not angry," chin up, Miss Foster glanced between her betrothed and her friend, determined to squash this uncharacteristic feeling. "However, I beg that you excuse me, for I am suddenly feeling quite unwell."

"Hattie,"

"Forgive me..." backing away a few steps, she shook her head, tears beginning to build in her eyes. Was this jealousy? She found it an unpleasant sensation. "I am most unwell."

Spinning away, the girl nearly ran from the ballroom, accidentally pushing past a few couples on her way to the door. Not noticing their murmurs of surprise, she burst into the outside air, gasping. Trembling, knees shaking, the young lady hurried down the wide stairs, vision going blurry, heart pounding.

"Hattie,"

"No," taking in a shuddering breath, Miss Foster shakily brushed her hands over her cheeks. "Go away."

"Please, dear Hattie, speak with me." Forsythe came down the steps, moving around to stand below her, eyes concerned.

"What is it? Surely Miss Stafford's negligent comment did not upset you. That was long in the past, and my feelings are bound to you. You do believe me?"

"I...I think I do...it's just," licking her lips, Hattie tried to focus her thoughts, her confusion. Everything felt so overwhelmingly new. "Why would she say such a thing? Why would Julia speak in such a manner, right to my face? It was...hurtful. She's my friend...or so I believed,"

"My dearest Hattie..." he searched for something to say, something to stop the tears that sent a physical pain through his chest. "The silly notion of a match between us is long over, a childhood ideal. I am devoted to you. Certainly, that is enough to cover over a casual remark? My past has no ties on me, no hold, nothing to draw my attention to the years gone by. All of my dreams are pointed to the future, one I most fervently pray still holds you in it."

Soft sniffles filled the silence between them as he reached out, touching her hand.

"Does it, Miss Foster?"

"Of course it does!" Looking at him at last, the vicar still saw uncertainty in her eyes. "Yet, I find that Julia has indeed managed to create doubt in me, and I heartily reproach myself for my lack of steadfastness! I gave my word to marry you, and that remains my fervent desire- and still..."

"You reconsider?"

"No...no I do not,"

"But?"

"But it seems my old friend still holds warmth for you in her heart, or else why would she speak such things?"

"Perhaps she is angry...our union was much talked of between our families." His expression betrayed a faint dissatisfaction. "When I decided against a match between us, she was understandably upset."

"Why did you decide against it?"

"Because I wished to see the world before settling down and starting a family. I was not yet twenty years old, and she was going off to finishing school. Barely more than children ourselves, Hattie, I did not wish to settle into married life so quickly."

"I suppose I ought to feel sympathy, as I would be very put out over a change of...understandings, as well." Slowly she looked up at him. "If I have not utterly dissuaded you, and it is still your wish, I will be your wife."

"Silly girl...of course it is." Moving up to stand before her, cupping her jaw in his hand, Jonathon stroked his thumb across her damp cheek. Hattie's blue eyes sparkled in the glow of lamplight as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

"Shall we forget this upset, dear Hattie, and return to the party?"

"Must we? The evening is so mild,"

Leaning down, the vicar rested his forehead against that of his betrothed, closing his eyes. She likewise stood motionless, each basking in the moment of just being near the other.

Returning to the party sometime later, the couple found themselves the object of conversation and guarded looks. It seemed their absence had not gone unnoticed after all. Mrs Foster swept up to her daughter and took her elbow, eyes bright.

"Excuse us, Mr Forsythe, I must speak to my daughter." Before the vicar could say a word, Hattie had been swiftly removed from his arm. Led to a small alcove, Lucille faced her youngest daughter.

"Just what was going on in that head of yours, child! Where did you get off to? Do you have any idea how long you were gone?"

"We were talking, Mamma, on the steps outside."

"For over half an hour!" Mrs Foster was sceptical. "This is hardly the time to create scandal, girl! Surely you can see the potential harm-?"

"Mamma, nothing happened." Unusually patient, Hattie gently pulled herself free of her mother's grasp. "There was a small...misunderstanding, which Mr Forsythe and myself resolved."

"What misunderstanding?" Quick to sense danger to her daughter's prospects, Lucille narrowed her eyes. "On whose part?"

"It no longer matters, Mamma, it is forgot. Now," Smiling, fluffing, and poking her golden tresses just a bit, Hattie slipped her arm through her mother's. "Let us return to the others before tongues truly start to wag. Reproaching me in view of everyone will do more harm than good, I imagine."

"Do you seek to escape a scolding?"

"No, but Mamma, you must believe me. Nothing happened. We spoke in private. That is all."

"How you try my nerves, child."

"Forgive me, Mamma."

With a sigh, Lucille Foster reached out, caressing her daughter's cheek before kissing it with a smile.

"You are so near a secure future...the thought of an upset is very distressing."

"Then we are of one mind, Mamma. The very idea distresses me too."

"And there is no matter that I need be wary of? The engagement is still intact?"

"Yes," Hattie's gaze found Miss Julia Stafford, who turned her head in time to meet Miss Foster's eyes from across the ballroom. "The understanding between myself and Mr Forsythe is certain."