Page 16 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

For the barest moment she stared at him with her mouth hanging open. Then a twinkle appeared in her eye, followed closely by a faint smile. “It is quite all right, Mr. Devon. You are forgiven.” Then she withdrew her hand to pull her shawl tighter around herself. “It isn’t the best example to those girls, the vicar’s daughter wandering about without gloves and hat.”

He looked ahead, where the misses in question were darting to and fro along the hedge, gathering berries. “I doubt they have even noticed.”

“I suppose not. Though they likely noticed your familiarity with me.”

He turned swiftly at the regretful tone of her voice, in time to see Miss Ames’s wince. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Familiarity, Miss Ames? I hope I did what any gentleman would in coming to your aid. Unless the title has come to mean something else in these parts.” He raised his eyebrows theatrically, though he thought over his conduct to be certain he hadn’t done anything ill-mannered. Had he stood too near? Admired her features overlong?

“Oh, no. That is not what I meant.” Her cheeks had darkened from a pale pink to a dusky rose color. “It is only—only that you are recently come back, and people are already speaking of you. I mean, that is to say—” She broke off, forehead wrinkling in her distress.

Harry considered her for a moment before he realized what she was trying to verbalize. In the time he’d been in the neighborhood, Harry had become creative in wriggling free from invitations extended by the neighbors. Truthfully, he had little time for entertainment since engaging himself to learn about managing his affairs. He’d thought a day with each of the three men principally in charge of things would be enough. But he’d yet to even fully grasp everything his steward had imparted to him, in a two-week span of time.

Hoping to put Miss Ames at ease, he took a step back from her. “Miss Ames, it’s quite all right. I understand. Having your name bandied about with mine would cause quite the sensation.” He lowered his eyes to the ground. The idea didn’t offend him. But why does she object to me so much?

She stepped closer, putting her hand on his arm. “Mr. Devon, I have no wish to offend you. I do not like gossip, sir. I strive to avoid being a subject of it. That is all. The excitement surrounding your return makes you a particularly sought-after subject. Those two sweet girls there,” she nodded in their direction, “one is the granddaughter of the seamstress, who is kind but very talkative with all who seek her services. The other girl is daughter to the butcher, who speaks with representatives of every household in the neighborhood.”

He regarded the children, realization creeping into his thoughts. “Anything those two girls tells their families is likely to be told to the whole town,” he said, somewhat awed by the power the two children unknowingly held.

Miss Ames nodded, her hand slipping away from his arm again. “And once rumors begin, they spread quickly, and as often as not change in the telling.”

“Then we had better make certain the young ladies know exactly what to tell people. You, Miss Ames, take your ease on that bit of grass there and leave it to me.” He gave her his most confident grin, the kind his sister Rebecca said portended mischief, and strode confidently to the two girls picking berries.

“Have you found enough yet? Oh, no. That paltry amount will not suffice. We must fill your baskets to the brims. Come, there is a trick to it.” He took off his gloves after making a show of inspecting their harvest. Then he took off his hat. It wasn’t one of his finest, but it was tall enough to rival the carrying capacity of their baskets.

“I will fill my hat, which you can see is very empty, as fast as I can. Try to fill your baskets before I can do that, won’t you? We will have a race.”

Both girls seemed delighted by the idea and hurried to get an even larger lead on him. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Miss Ames staring after him, openly wearing her shock. He waved at her, then made good on his challenge to the girls.

His only advantage was his higher reach, as he could get berries above their heads. The girls giggled and laughed and encouraged each other to go faster and faster. He laughed with them and teased as much as he could, not allowing them to look into his hat to view his progress.

The smaller one, whose name had alluded him until the older called it out, finished her basket first. “Look, look!” She rushed over to him and held it out for his inspection. Then she sat the basket down. “Now I shall help Lucy and we will win the race.” She turned and spun, the ribbons of her bonnet flying up behind her.

Harry called after her, “I shall still win, Miss Janie!” His hat wasn’t even half full.

Miss Ames had followed his suggestion to sit on the grass, watching the display.

“Miss Ames,” he called, “you didn’t tell me they were champion foragers. This hardly seems a fair race.”

She laughed, the sound bright and happy as a spring morning. “Mr. Devon, you ought to have studied the situation more keenly. You have none to blame but yourself.” But the smile she bestowed on him, one that was relieved and grateful, indicated she knew well enough what he was about.

Harry didn’t speak to her again, though he continued calling out to his competition. He’d given himself a thorough distraction, and hopefully gave the girls something to talk about other than his assistance to Miss Ames.

At last the older of the two declared her basket filled, and Harry admitted defeat dramatically. Then he offered his escort to the young ladies, at least partway down the lane, where the road branched.

Miss Ames followed behind them by several steps until they came to the turn-off that led to the village. The girls went on their way with waves and smiles. After they’d turned their backs, Miss Ames came to stand at his side.

“Well done, Mr. Devon. I believe those girls nearly forgot my presence.” He studied her from the corner of his eye, noting the way she tilted her head to the side when amused. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. “Thank you for understanding the situation.”

Harry waved her thanks away easily. “I have sisters, Miss Ames. I know what a woman’s reputation means to her. I wouldn’t want yours to be questioned.” He turned to face the direction of the vicarage. “I find myself wanting to walk in this direction, Miss Ames. Might I assume you are going the same way?”

With his back to her, he couldn’t see her expression. Had he made peace enough with her to bring back the smiling, cheerful woman he’d met the day he saved the cat?

“You assume correctly. This time.” She stepped up beside him. “I suppose you would like a travel companion for the arduous journey ahead of you?” she asked, and when he cut a glance at her, he saw her lips twitching upward.

The knots inside Harry loosened and he bowed, his hat still in hand. “I would appreciate that, yes. And would the lady care to share my provisions for the duration of our sojourn?”

She laughed and peered inside his misused head-covering. “You have quite ruined your hat, Mr. Devon. Those berry stains will not come out. I cannot think your valet will thank you.”

“I currently do not employ a valet.” Harry peered into the hat as well and studied the splotches of purple berry juice. “But as all the stains will be on the inside, I cannot see there being any difficulty in wearing the hat again.” He withdrew a few and popped the berries into his mouth.