“Of course,” he replied, smiling. “Abigail will take you to the vicarage while I finish here and join you in a few minutes. If that suits?”
“Indeed it does.”
In fact, there was little for him to do in the church, and the cold had scattered his flock back to the warmth of their own homes. Or the Blue Goose taproom. But he needed the moments alone to rearrange his thoughts.
Or, at least, he imagined he did. In fact, by the time he closed the church door and strode up to the vicarage, he realized he had already thought everything out to perfection. All that was required was for him to repeat his previous assertions, with added reassurance.
Abigail had done exactly the right thing, showing their guests into the study, where she stayed drinking hot chocolate with them until he arrived. She then poured him some chocolate of his own and whisked herself out of the room.
It was a cozy, friendly scene of the kind Luke liked best.
Cradling his cup in both hands, he smiled faintly. “I take it you wish to discuss your inquiries?”
“We do,” Mrs. Silver confirmed.
Luke did not quite like the way she thrust herself forward into the lead, as it were, while her betrothed was present to speak for them. But if he noticed, Grey seemed content to let her.
Mrs. Silver set down her cup and saucer. “I almost accused an innocent woman of sending those letters, a woman who had already been accused of much that was not, in my opinion, her fault. Can you imagine how bad we would have made her feel by my mistake?”
“I suppose it is a risk of your—er…profession,” Luke replied, hiding his triumph. He was right. He had retaken control of the situation.
“It is. And we hate making such mistakes, but in this case, we did not have all the facts, did we?”
“I suppose you can’t have,” Luke said calmly.
“Sir, did you receive one of those letters?”
That was not what he had expected. He played for time by sipping his hot chocolate—which was, in fact, lukewarm. “I have already told you I did not.” He transferred his gaze to Grey, who surely had the superior understanding. “Look, I believe the matter has been dealt with. You heard my sermon. There will be no more letters. Together with the alarm engendered by your inquiries, we have put the fear of God into the sender, who will repent and sin no more.”
“I think you are right about all of that,” Mrs. Silver said. “Except the sermon bit. That was as much to mislead us as to persuade the sinner to repent, was it not? Please, vicar, show us your letter.”
His stomach tightened. Holding Grey’s steady gaze became increasingly difficult.
“We know who sent them,” Mrs. Silver said. “We just need to be sure.”
And so he had snatched defeat from the jaws of victory… Or was the woman lying? Grey clearly believed her. Luke would have to throw himself on their mercy and hope they had some.
He placed his cup deliberately in the saucer on his desk. “I destroyed my letter. To be honest, I was somewhat ashamed to receive it.”
“Why?” Grey asked, speaking for the first time since Luke had come in. “Were you ashamed because its accusation was true?”
Luke swallowed and nodded. “They were all true in their way.”
“Did it accuse you of frightening the children with your fiery sermons?” Mrs. Silver asked.
Luke nodded slowly. “I get carried away. I believe my enthusiasm comes from God, but that is no excuse for delivering his words the way I did. The sad thing is, I did not even notice the effect on the children, until it was pointed out to me. I did take more care, but the damage will take some time to work out. Especially as Ihadto be a little more dramatic today. Poor Archie Smith had to be taken out again, even though I said nothing about the tortures of hell.”
“Children have imagination,” Mrs. Silver said, though it didn’t seem to be an accusation. “But it was that frightened child leaving that suddenly let me see the truth. All those letters were to do with the children.”
Uh-oh…
Grey began to speak, looking not at Luke now but at Mrs. Silver. “Mrs. Chadwick kept back a message carried by Richard Gimlet about his sister’s sickness. The boy was so angry, no doubt, because he felthewas the cause of her death. He hadn’t been clear enough or forceful enough with his message. When, in fact, Mrs. Chadwick had merely been looking after her exhausted husband, and the poor child would have died anyway.
“Nolan endangered and frightened children by the way he chased them from his shop. We noticed one child scurrying to the other side of an older sibling as they approached the smithy. Nell Dickie had her youngest with her when Mrs. Keaton threatened to have her thrown in prison. Miss Mortimer… If she puts the rent up, all the tenants will suffer. Some might have to leave and put laborers out of work too. The children of all those families would be included in that suffering.”
Mrs. Silver looked oddly relieved. “Exactly. And who knows the children best? Who hears their problems through chatter and stories in the classroom? Who defends them?”
Luke sighed. He had tried and failed. She had struck the truth and all three of them knew it. “I wish it had been me.”
