Page 1 of Indecently Daring

Chapter 1

Dearest Harry,

Have you finally come to your senses and realised a clergyman’s life is wasted upon such a fine specimen of manhood? I pray nightly for such an occurrence, though I know it is a hopeless endeavour. You ever were stubborn as a mule. I only hope you do it for your own reasons and not to please your Papa, the pompous old twit that he is. Still, even he must be proud of the steps you have taken to become the man you are. I am, should you be in any doubt. Only I do worry for you, Harry, my boy. I fear you have become too serious, that you have forgotten that life is for living and ought to be brim full of joy. You spend a deal too much time with the sick and the dying and I believe it is depressing your spirits. The last time I saw you, the change in you shocked me. Where was the mischievous, laughing boy I knew and loved so dearly? So, it is entirely for your own good that I am coming to stay.

Now, fear not. I have no intention of putting up at that draughty old vicarage and catching pneumonia. No, I shall call upon Lady St Clair. She’s a sweet creature. Dorcas is a distant relative of the earl by marriage, so he won’t hesitate to invite her, and everyone knows we come as a matched set these days.

So, gird your loins, dearest nephew. I will arrive in three days.

―Excerpt of a letter to the Reverend Harry Martin, from his Great Aunt, Mrs Cora Dankworth.

2ndJanuary 1845, Holbrook House, Sussex.

“More tea, Vicar?”

“No, thank you, Lady St Clair.” Harry shook his head, setting down his cup and saucer and trying not to stare too longingly at the delicious fruit cake on the table. He’d had three large slices already and was well on his way to gluttony. He really must replace his housekeeper before hunger reduced him to cleaning every tea tray within his parish.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, take another slice,” the lady said with a snort, cutting a ridiculously large slice and handing it to him. “I could hear your stomach grumbling when you came in. Have you still not found a housekeeper?”

Harry accepted the plate with a rueful expression. “No. I keep meaning to, but the problem seems insurmountable.”

“Nonsense,” Lady St Clair said in her usual brisk manner. “It just needs a little attention and thought. You are running hither and yon like a headless chicken, precisely because you do not have a suitable housekeeper to help you. The correct choice will see off people inclined to waste your precious time on flirtation and nonsense, make you regular meals so you do not arrive with the look of a starving hound, and keep your robes in order.”

Harry winced and tugged self-consciously at his fraying cuff. He had the greatest admiration and respect for Lady St Clair. She was a bundle of energy with a mind he found frankly rather intimidating, but her forthright manner, whilst refreshing, could be a little brutal.

“I have tried,” he ventured, wishing he did not feel quite so thoroughly like a scolded boy. “But it’s complicated.”

Lady St Clair returned a dry expression. “No, Reverend, it is not. The problem is abundantly clear. All the best applicants for the job have daughters of a marriageable age.”

“Er….” Harry said awkwardly, and then let out a sigh of relief. If the lady understood the problem, perhaps she could advise him on how to proceed without offending the female half of his parish. “In a nutshell.”

With a thoughtful nod, the countess sipped her tea before setting the empty cup down. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and turned the full force of her attention upon him. “Leave it with me. I shall compile a list and engage someone suitable for you.”

“My lady, you are too kind, but I ought not to impose upon your time, and—”

“Piffle. You are clearly running yourself ragged, and that is no good for anyone. Where shall we be if you have a nervous collapse?”

“I don’t think things are really that—”

“In the suds, that’s where we shall be, and I shall be tasked with finding a new vicar, I don’t doubt. Oh-ho, not likely.”

“My lady, I can assure you, I am in perfect health. Just because—”

The lady carried on, disregarding his protestations with an impatient wave of her hand. “It won’t do. I shall help you find a housekeeper, and then you will be fed and watered at regular intervals and my mind shall be easy. If I do not, you’ll end up with someone who is unequal to keeping the marriage-minded mamas and some of the less modest young women of the parish out of your hair. I could not bear to see you forced to marry to some frivolous chit who fell in love with only that pretty face of yours, and has no notion of the man beneath it.”

“Yes, my lady,” Harry said, feeling suddenly quite serene and not the least offended by her words. Why women acted so oddly around him was a mystery he’d never understood, but why things had become worse since he’d entered the church was quite beyond him.

Did they believe just because he was a man of God, he was perfect? For that was so far from the truth, it was laughable. If they saw the real man, knew all the things he had done in his life, all the mistakes and… but he would not dwell on that. After all, Lady St Clair had set her mind to the task of getting him a housekeeper. Now no power on earth would keep her from her objective, which meant he was saved.

Harry felt a weight lift from his shoulders and sent thanks to his heavenly father for arranging things so nicely. He might actually be able to sleep peacefully at night. He might even be able to get up in the morning without having to peer out of the windows and check for young women lurking in his garden, bearing freshly baked loaves, cakes, biscuits, or whatever they had turned their fair hands to on his behalf. Little did they know that, since his housekeeper had left to take care of her ailing sister and a daunting number of nieces and nephews, it was the contents of those covered baskets that tempted Henry the most.

Lady St Clair smiled with satisfaction. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. So, onto the next matter. We need ideas for a charity event to raise funds for your school. You give generously of your time but, really, we shall need a full-time teacher if it is going to work. There aren’t enough hours in the day for you to keep up this rather gruelling timetable.”

“I enjoy teaching the boys,” Harry protested. It was only a few hours in the mornings, and only three days a week, though he wished he could do more.

Lady St Clair nodded. “I know that, and they adore you, but we need money to ensure the school is doing what it ought, and you don’t drive yourself to exhaustion. Not only that, but there’s so much the lads need. I was delighted all the boys got new boots before the winter this year, but the little devils grow like weeds, and they shall need replacing before we know it. Also, I very much agree with your idea of giving the boys a hot meal. I know the Board of Guardians balked at the notion, but that’s only because they’re terrified they’ll be expected to put their hands in their pockets.”

“It will be expensive, I suppose,” Harry said anxiously.