Page 31 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

Harry mutely held out his hand and she handed the package over to him without a thought. He tucked it beneath his other arm and then continued down the lane.

“Christine told me of your difficulties. You need more support, from the people. If there is anything I might do to help, Miss Ames, I hope you will tell me.” The sincerity with which he spoke touched her heart.

“Really, you must call me Daisy,” she said quietly, staring down the road rather than see his reaction, though she did feel his arm tighten beneath her hand. “And I thank you for your kind offer.” Why did she give in to his request so easily? Her Christian name was said by almost no one. Her childhood name never even heard anymore.

Perhaps that was why she granted him that familiarity. She missed the sound of her name.

When he spoke again, it was as though nothing of significance had passed between them.

And nothing has, she told herself firmly.

“I am most adamant that you allow me to help. Once I have a greater understanding of how such things are done, I would be pleased to make a donation to the cause.”

Somehow, that disappointed her. When a man had funds readily at his disposal, and Harry Devon undoubtedly did, giving money to a cause could not really count for much in his heart. Not that she was concerned about Harry’s heart.

Daisy frowned at the trees stretching above them, leaves turning from yellow to brown. “Thank you,” she said at last. “That is a generous offer, Mr. Devon.”

“Harry,” he corrected. “And what have I done wrong this time?”

Her eyes sought his with surprise. His brows were drawn together, his lips thin, and the lines of his jaw hard. His perplexity was as genuine as his playfulness.

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “You have been most kind.”

“I can see it, Daisy.” He faced forward again, still leading them down the path one step after another. “Your nose wrinkled, your gray eyes went dark, and it was as though your whole body wished to be away from me. I upset you.”

Again, he startled her. Despite his lively nature, the man was most observant.

“I am grateful for your offer,” she said, but when he cast her an incredulous glance she hurried her words. “It was only a silly thought, Harry.” His name fell a trifle reluctantly from her tongue. “I am less worried about the funds than I am about the support of people in other ways. What I wish for is encouragement, for myself and the families who would benefit most from this. I wish for people to take an interest that goes beyond handing me a purse and bidding me good luck.” She closed her lips over the last word and winced.

She certainly didn’t sound grateful, even to her own ears.

Harry said nothing for several steps, and he kept his gaze before them. Daisy did her best to bite her tongue, but the misty weather wasn’t the only thing dampening her spirits.

“I am sorry,” she whispered at last. “I should not have said anything. I am ridiculous.”

“No, Daisy.” His arm drew her closer to him. “I am the ridiculous one. It is as you said, about the way I have managed things thus far in my life. I hand my money over and trust a good job will be done with it, rather than put any effort along with it. I see that now.”

Despite her earlier thoughts, Daisy’s estimation of his character rose. “Do you? What has changed?” When she’d met him, after all, he’d seemed to have few plans and even less direction. He had heaps of money but little regard for what such a blessing meant.

“You helped me to understand my responsibilities to the people under my care, as servants and tenants. My duty to the community. I will not say I have a course of action decided just yet, but learning all I have—” He broke off, shaking his head while that perplexed expression returned to his face. “I cannot say all that I intend to do, or to change, because I am not certain. But I have a good feeling about Mr. Ellsworth. Perhaps he can assist in more than just ordering the estate’s finances.”

Daisy bit her bottom lip and said nothing, though her heart lightened considerably to hear him speak with real intent. Truly, it wasn’t her place to say more. Or was it? They had agreed to friendship, after all.

“I am impressed.” The compliment, though it was simple in nature, seemed to settle upon him like a warm blanket. His whole being relaxed and his smile reappeared. He glanced down at her, a gentle look in his eye.

“Thank you. That means a great deal coming from you.” He nodded to the side. “Here is the vicarage.” He released her arm. “And here is your parcel.”

She accepted it, hugging the brown papered box to her chest. “Thank you. For seeing me home.”

He regarded her in silence, one corner of his mouth slightly higher than the other. He opened his mouth to speak, but a boom of thunder above interrupted him.

Daisy peeked up at the clouds. “You had better hurry home.” She lowered her eyes to his, catching a strange emotion in them that was gone before she could identify it.

“I suppose so. This rain had better stop soon, or the fair will be rained out. Good day, Daisy.” He touched the brim of his hat.

“Good day, Harry.” She turned and hurried up the path to the front door of the vicarage. She looked back with her hand on the door handle. He waved at her one more time before turning and going on his way.

Slipping inside, Daisy closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Though she had obtained the safety and warmth of her home, her heart beat a hasty rhythm within her breast. As though she were afraid, or anxious, or excited—