Page 2 of A Foolish Endeavor

Charlotte smiled. “Oh, I believe we may find he will be very close to home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, recall when Frederick mentioned last month the possibility of taking on a second parish part time in Brewster? It is very nearly arranged, and, when it is, Frederick will need a curate to give sermons here when he is absent from Clayton parish. Gilbert can begin his career in the church right here.”

“But that is too perfect,” exclaimed Lavinia. “He will learn and grow in his new position, and be close to home. Then he can woo Selina.” She paused to consider for a moment. “Although, a curate’s salary is so very low, she may not have him. For she has little enough of her own, heaven knows, and may seek a richer match. Still, if love blooms between them, your father may see fit to supplement Gilbert’s salary. And then, Uncle Hugh might make a very good settlement on Selina if he approves of the match—perhaps as much as one thousand pounds. Well invested, that sum would provide a stream of income and they might have nearly one hundred a year, which would enable them to at least afford one maid.”

“I see you have everyone’s future planned out, dear sister,” Charlotte said in a teasing voice. “Gracious, why wait upon God’s sure bounty for us, when you can make everything fall under your will?”

Lavinia set her teacup down and gave a little shrug. “Well, it certainly never hurts to consider the possibilities, now does it?” she asked primly. She leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “Oh! I can see it all now, Charlotte. Gilbert will be content to be a curate here and our family will be all together. You tease me, but I may very well be right about it all.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “No, do not get up, dear sister, I can see myself out. You and Frederick are coming to dinner tonight, are you not? We shall discuss it further then.” With a final smile, she breezed out of the room, leaving a bemused Charlotte shaking her head.

Chapter Two

The following Tuesday, Charlotte and Lavinia could hardly keep from checking the window every few minutes for a glimpse of the Clayton House carriage, even though they knew very well Miles could not possibly arrive with Gilbert from the center of Doddington where the Post would drop him off until well after four o’clock. So eager were they to see Gilbert, that any attempts to pass the time with embroidery was a waste of needle and thread. Lavinia lamented that she should likely have to pick out all the stitching on a nightgown she was embroidering for Charlotte’s baby.

“I have done such an ill job on this one portion, Charlotte, I declare I would rather throw it in the fire than gift it to you and Frederick in its present condition,” she said, finally setting it aside. “Never mind, I shall repair it later. Oh, where are they?”

As she spoke, the mantel clock in the drawing room struck half past four. Charlotte rose from the sofa and moved to the window. She peered down the lane and, after a moment, she gave a small gasp and turned to Lavinia, her eyes alight with excitement. “They are here—they are here. Let us go tell Father.”

The two left the room, Lavinia rushing ahead to knock on the door of Evan Kendall’s study, just off the entry hall. Unable to wait for his response, she called through the door, “Father, they have arrived.”

Evan Kendall opened the door so quickly, Charlotte suspected he had been standing by the window himself, also looking for a sign of the carriage. He smiled at Charlotte and Lavinia, and glanced at the long clock in the hall. “At last—and a few moments earlier than I had anticipated. The Post must have made good time.”

Together, the three exited Clayton House and stood on the broad, covered porch, just as the carriage pulled into the sweep. It had barely come to a halt, when the door, bearing the Kendall family crest of a white rose and stag head, flew open and Gilbert jumped out, his face showing his happiness.

“My dear, dear family,” he cried as he rushed to hug his sisters. “It seems an age since we have all been together. Father, it is so good to be home. Thank you for sending Miles with the carriage for me.” He shook his father’s hand, then stood, grinning. Miles came forward after assisting Thomas, their man-of-all-work, with Gilbert’s trunks. He clapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“We certainly are happy to have you home, brother. There is so much news about the estate to share. Father and I have been working with our tenants on some new agriculture practices that may greatly improve yields. That would be good not only for them, but for us, as well.”

A frown crossed Gilbert’s handsome face. “Why should you need my opinion in such matters? It is not as if I shall inherit Clayton House and have to manage our tenants, Miles.”

There was an awkward pause before Charlotte said, “Yes, of course, that is true. However, you surely may soon have the need to become better acquainted with many of our tenants, Gilbert, in quite a pastoral way. Oh, but I do not wish to say too much at present. Frederick will wish to speak to you, himself, on a very pleasing opportunity for you.”

Lavinia nodded and took Gilbert’s arm. “Indeed, we must not spoil the surprise. For now, let us go inside the house. You must be in great need of refreshment.” She reached up and pushed back a curl of hair that was falling over his forehead. “How well you look. I declare you become more blond with each passing year, just like your dear mother and sister, Dorothea. I thought your hair would darken with age, but it certainly has not, has it, Father? Does it not look lighter to you?”

“I notice no great difference from when he last was here,” Evan remarked. “I always have felt blessed to have two children who favor my darker looks, as Miles and Charlotte do, and two who have the light coloring of their late mother. The symmetry of it all quite appeals to me. Now, come, come, let us have some tea and let Gilbert share all his news.”

“Father, if you do not mind, I prefer to take a walk. After sitting so long during my journey, I am in great and immediate need of some exercise. Please—go ahead and enjoy your tea and I will see you all later. We can certainly have a good discourse at dinner.” Without waiting for a reply, he pulled his arm out of Lavinia’s grasp and strode off.

The rest of the family exchanged puzzled glances, then, after a moment, entered Clayton House and moved towards the drawing room. On a side table next to the windows were many platters of food, as well as teapots, the spouts of which emanated steam, proof of being freshly filled.

“Well!” said Lavinia, throwing one arm out towards the display. “I daresay all the time and attention Mrs. Wilson and I put into making sure Cook prepared a plethora of exceptional treats for this afternoon’s tea was all for naught. Gilbert shall miss it all. He should have known I would make a fuss over him, and he should have stayed to enjoy it for my sake. Truly, I am quite vexed.” She walked over to the table, shaking her head. She picked up a small plate and continued, “Well, we may as well serve ourselves. Perhaps Gilbert will return from his walk in time to partake of some portion before it is cleared away.”

The family went ahead and filled their plates and took cups of hot tea, then sat in the room in which the anticipated celebratory mood was now sorely diminished. They ate and drank in silence for a time before Charlotte spoke.

“I understand your disappointment, Lavinia. You went to such effort and it is a splendid tea. On the other hand, I fully comprehend his desire to stretch his legs. It may well be as you say—that Gilbert will find he does not require a long walk, but only a short one, and he will quite soon join us,” Charlotte said. At the sound of the door opening, her eyes widened. “Ah. That is likely him now.”

Everyone turned their gaze to see who was arriving, but it was not Gilbert. Instead, Charlotte’s husband, Frederick, entered. He smiled at everyone, his eyes scanning the room. His countenance soon reflected his puzzlement.

“I thought I heard the carriage go past as I was working in my book room,” he said. “I was certain it was Gilbert, so I finished up and hurried over. Where is our brother?”

“Gone for a walk,” Evan said curtly. “Although, he may be back in time to enjoy some of the lovely tea Lavinia arranged. Come help yourself, Frederick. Do not let it be wasted.”

Frederick filled his plate and cup, then sat by his wife. “I was so in anticipation of hearing about Gilbert’s last few months at Oxford,” he said. “I enjoyed my own time there so very much and, as my favorite religious studies professor is no longer there, I am eager to know Gilbert’s opinion of the new instructor. I certainly hope he was able to give Gilbert the firm doctrinal footing he will need to take his orders.”

“I have no doubt that Gilbert was well instructed,” Miles said. “Though he must obtain his testimonial from Oxford vouching for his fitness for ordination, first. I do hope he did not forget to ask for that before coming home—it will delay his becoming a curate somewhat if he has to write for it now.”

“But is that not merely the initial step for him?” Lavinia asked. “Charlotte, were you not explaining to cousin Selina and me the other day of the many other requirements?”