Page 25 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

“Off you go,” Mrs. Gilbert said, waiving him out the front door. “You need to attend to your riding lesson.”

He bowed to his mother and Daisy, then the boy was off as quickly as the colts his father raised.

“Excuse us, Miss Ames.” Mrs. Gilbert extended her hand to indicate a side parlor. “Please, come inside. It has been an age since we have visited together.”

Daisy followed the woman inside, not removing her bonnet or jacket. She had no intention of staying long.

Once seated across form her, Mrs. Gilbert folded her hands in her lap. “It is lovely to see you today. I am sorry we didn’t have the opportunity to visit at the ball. Did you enjoy that evening?”

As it was nearly a week past, and Daisy’s thoughts had been on her present disappointment, it took her a moment to answer. “The ball? It was most enjoyable. I always look forward to dancing.”

“I believe you danced a set with Harry?” Mrs. Gilbert said, her tone nothing but cordial.

“Yes, he is a talented dancer. I believe many young ladies enjoyed his partnership that evening.” Daisy shifted in her seat, adjusting the ribbons of her purse. “I think he may become something of a favorite in the neighborhood.”

“He might indeed. I have had one or two ladies call upon me with the obvious hope of meeting him while they visited.” The woman’s eyes twinkled merrily, as though the visits were a matter to be laughed at.

Daisy smiled, too, though she wondered that Mrs. Gilbert wasn’t irritated by visits of that nature. Daisy certainly would be. “I understand he has been very busy with his estate’s business.” She opened her reticule. “In fact, I have come hoping he would not be present. I have an article of his to return, and I did not wish to disturb him.” She took out the handkerchief. “Could you see that he receives this?”

Mrs. Gilbert’s eyebrows came down as she accepted the white linen, studying it with interest. “It is his. I recognize the pattern. Our sister, Mrs. Hastings, gave Harry a whole box full of embroidered handkerchiefs.” She placed the folded square in her lap and fixed Daisy with a look of curiosity. “May I ask how you came by it?”

“He came upon me picking blackberries, and I am afraid I caught my hand on a thorn. Mr. Devon offered his handkerchief as a bandage.” There. She managed to speak the whole of it without stammering or, thankfully, blushing. Daisy relaxed, pleased to have the errand and explanation over with.

“It seems you two have been seeing a great deal of each other,” Mrs. Gilbert said, eyebrows arching while one corner of her mouth pulled to the side.

Daisy blinked, the tension immediately returning to her shoulders. “Only in passing, I assure you, Mrs. Gilbert.” Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “No more than I see any other neighbors.”

Mrs. Gilbert’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Really? I hope Harry is proving himself a good neighbor. It is always useful to have a kind gentleman willing to offer aid to a young lady.” She glanced away, her fingers tracing the edge of the handkerchief. “He has spoken highly of you, Miss Ames. Mr. Gilbert and I believe that you gave him some very good advice about his estate.”

“Me?” Daisy asked, surprise startling the word from her. “I am afraid I cannot claim such a thing. We have barely spoken.”

“Yet you have given Harry a great deal to think about.” Mrs. Gilbert lowered her chin to fix Daisy with a solemn stare. “Harry is a good man. Intelligent and kind. But I am afraid he hasn’t had much in the way of direction the past few years. He has three sisters rather than a mother or father to guide him, and we have busied ourselves with our husbands and children. Harry credits you with the idea for him to learn from the men who have looked after things for him. His steward, his solicitor.”

Daisy’s blush refused to dissipate. “I am happy to have helped in any way, of course, but I am certain Mr. Devon would have come to such a decision on his own.”

“Eventually, perhaps.” Mrs. Gilbert tilted her head to the side. Daisy attempted not to fidget while under the scrutiny of the older woman. “You seem out of sorts, Miss Ames. Is there anything the matter?”

It would be easy, and perhaps the politest thing, to simply deny any difficulties and be on her way. But, as she had told herself earlier, Daisy knew Mrs. Gilbert wasn’t one to always behave in a traditional manner. People knew she ran the horse farm alongside her husband, and that she spoke her mind more often than not. Daisy had always rather admired Mrs. Gilbert for those things.

“There is something bothering me, Mrs. Gilbert. I am not certain you wish to hear of it. It is only a dream of mine that I am afraid may never come to pass.” Her voice cracked awfully on the last word. Daisy blinked rapidly, forcing away the tears before they dared fall. “I apologize, I ought—”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Gilbert said, moving from her chair to sit beside Daisy on the couch. “Dreams are important things. If you are comfortable speaking of it, please know you can confide in me.”

“It isn’t a secret.” Daisy tried to laugh, but the sound was rather strangled. “I have spoken to several ladies of my plans this very week. I am attempting to—that is, I would like—” She broke off again and shook her head.

“Oh, dear.” Christine handed her the handkerchief she’d only just returned.

“I cannot take this,” she said, opening her reticule and shuffling her things around only to find she’d somehow forgotten to put a handkerchief of her own inside. With a sigh of frustration, she took Harry’s and used it to dry her eyes.

“Miss Ames, would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Gilbert sounded gentler than Daisy had ever heard her, and she laid a kind, sisterly arm around Daisy’s shoulders.

“No. I am sorry. This is ridiculous. It has been a trying week. You see, I wish to start a school in the village. Not a boarding school, but a school for the daughters of farmers and merchants, for tenants’ daughters.” She didn’t look up to Mrs. Gilbert’s eyes. Daisy didn’t think she could face more criticism or laughter. Yet she continued speaking, worrying the linen cloth in her hands. “I wish to provide them with enough of an education to better their lives, no matter what they choose to do. A woman who can read, who is trained to practice intelligence, would be a boon to any family, poor or rich. I am prepared to teach only a few hours every day, so the girls can fulfill their family duties.

“I wish to lease a room in the village, large enough and with a stove for warmth, to have at least ten students at a time. I need more books, and slates. Just a few things, really, but they would help me to start. I have enough saved to lease the room above Mrs. Chandler’s shop for four months. I am hoping to secure more time with help from our neighbors.”

“That doesn’t sound unreasonable,” Mrs. Gilbert said slowly. “You were soliciting funds?”

Daisy nodded. “And support. I would need people in the community to help, to encourage parents to send their daughters to me. But everyone I have spoken to thus far has seemed to think the whole idea a jest.”