Page 30 of Regency in Color

Chapter Two

The entire drive back to the Yarnsby estate, Thomas went over and over in his head the conversation with Father Matthews. It was the third time he’d met with the priest to discuss the possibility of joining the priesthood. Each time, the priest had been adamant, that it if was his calling, he would know without hesitation.

A part of him figured it was his part in someone’s death that drove him. However, guilt being the driving factor was not a good reason to join the church. In that moment, Thomas felt compelled to wait and allow time to make things clearer.

Thankfully, that day the priest had not been as insistent to know what his decision was. Instead, Father Matthews brought up why Thomas had moved there and asked about his life prior to coming to Berkhamsted.

Although there was plenty to tell him, Thomas did not feel ready to reveal everything. There were days when he wished to relieve himself of the burden of what he held inside. It was the right thing after all, as a Catholic, he should confess the sins of his past that he carried with him.

Long before arriving, he’d spoken to the priest at the church where he’d grown up but stopped short of confession.

His roguish ways of the past, had come with a price, not only was a woman dead, but he’d hurt many people. What he’d considered fun in the past, he was now deeply ashamed of.

Thomas’ father often said that the burden of guilt was sometimes the hardest punishment one could live with.

And yet, despite the looming cloud, over his head, that rarely dissipated, Thomas wasn’t sure he was prepared to speak about it to Father Matthews. The hesitation was perhaps a sign he wasn’t truly ready for or right for the priesthood.

Then there was the new situation, the appearance of a beautiful woman, the likes of which he’d never seen before. Mary Asher.

Her brown skin was so distractingly beautiful. With a combination of amber colored eyes and midnight black hair, she was like a rare alluring jewel. Then there were the additional distractors of plush lips and sensual husky voice.

Thomas shook his head and inhaled deeply. A feeling of calmness came over him whenever he was in Mary’s proximity. Of course, she barely noticed him, which was understandable. Mary was like a part of his employer’s family, and he a mere coachman.

* * *

Upon arriving at the house,he helped Mrs. Yarnsby from the carriage. The beauty gave him a soft smile. “Thank you, Thomas. The drive home was delightful.”

“I ensured to go a different route so you could see different landscapes,” he admitted.

When he turned to help Mary out, his breath caught at the sight of her. There was a softness about her that brought out a protective nature. At the same time, her quiet strength gave him pause. Unlike women he’d met before, Mary didn’t seem to have a problem speaking her mind, nor did she come across as a wilting flower who fawned over his looks.

If he were to be honest, she intimidated him a bit.

“Thomas?”

He turned to find Moira standing with a hand on her hip. “Harold wanted me to tell you to come to the stables as soon as you return.”

Moira’s husband, Harold, the groundskeeper and overseer of the estate, was a fair man when it came to work duties and responsibilities. Thomas admired the man and had become close to him since arriving.

Thomas drove the carriage to the stables and began unhitching the horses just as Harold walked out. The man helped him lead the horses into the stalls so that they could be watered and fed. “How did they do?”

“They worked well as a team. If I hadn’t known that they’d never been together, I would not have guessed. They became a bit restless while we waited for the ladies, so I took them around the village. Once that was completed, they settled,” Thomas informed Harold.

“I am glad to hear it,” Harold replied, his expression somewhat pensive.

Thomas studied the man. “Is something wrong?”

“Two men came here earlier,” Harold said, looking toward the house. “They asked about you by name. I didn’t tell them you worked here, only that I knew you and that you came by sometimes to do work.”

A chill traveled up Thomas’ spine. “Why did you not tell them I worked here?”

“I got a strange feeling about them. They did not seem friendly at all.” Harold studied him. “Seems to me they have some sort of grudge, by the way they said your name. With disdain.”

“Did they give you their names?”

Harold shook his head. “No.”

Glad that he’d taken a different route from the village, Thomas could only give thanks to heaven for it. If they had come across them, he had no idea what could have happened.