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“Tea!” Mrs. Pettigrew announced, bustling in the door, followed by a young maid.

“Look at Caitlin,” Devin murmured in Viola’s ear. “Desiring the vicar has to be a sin.” Suddenly he remembered that his wife was guilty of the same fault.

Thankfully, she gurgled with laughter.

Chapter Thirty

In the last days before the play of Noah’s ark was performed, the Wilde family was constantly running in and out of the vicarage. Ophelia had flatly refused to give anyone, especially Joan, permission to act on the stage, but Erik had put himself in charge of prompting the cast if they forgot their lines.

Lavinia’s love of costume meant that she was forever running over to measure one of the children playing the role of an elephant or a squirrel. They were allowed to pick the animal of their choice, not necessarily biblical, and she was doing her best to create trunks and fluffy tails.

Viola walked in the last day before the performance on Devin’s arm, hardly able to stop smiling. That morning . . .

Well.

Suffice it to say that when she looked up from breakfast and found her husband regarding her lazily, her flush began somewhere around her toes and kept climbing. When they reemerged from the bedchamber a couple of hours later, Devin said that he thought he’d accompany her to the vicarage.

“Are the battle lines still drawn?” he inquired as they walked down the street.

“They grow more firm by the hour,” Viola said worriedly. “Miss Pettigrew has an unnerving way of saying precisely what she thinks, no matter how rude it might seem to the people who hear it.”

“I would imagine that a vicar’s wife should be extraordinarily tactful,” Devin said.

“That would be helpful,” Viola said. She slipped her hand through Devin’s arm. “Sometimes I see a desperate look on Mr. Marlowe’s face.”

Devin glanced down but decided not to answer. His vicar’s desperation was unfortunate, but as long as Viola didn’t sound overly agonized, he didn’t care.

The moment he and Viola entered the vicarage, it was clear that things had gone from bad to worse.

“Alive!” Miss Pettigrew bellowed from the sitting room. “I suppose that is the argument that you used to convince the duke to provide support for this—for this monstrosity. The very idea of making Noah seem alive is grotesque.”

“Amazing,” Devin said. “I feel as if time has stood still, although I was here over a week ago. Shall I scoop you up and kiss you against the wall?”

“Oh, dear,” Viola said, paying no attention. “Perhaps Miss Pettigrew saw a dress rehearsal. Caitlin told me yesterday that she had refused to read the script.”

“Too late to change direction now,” Devin replied. “It’s astonishing how one can hear her voice all over the building.”

On entering the sitting room, they found Miss Pettigrew and Mr. Marlowe on one side of the room, and Caitlin on the other. They all got through a round of greetings, but anyone could see that Miss Pettigrew had more to say.

“She’s swelling up like a frog on the riverbank about to sing,” Devin murmured to his wife, as they seated themselves.

“I love being married,” she whispered back. “I was thinking the same thing but far less poetically.”

Devin didn’t answer for a moment, consumed by a wash of unusual emotion. Viola liked being married. That was good. Excellent, in fact. That was excellent. One wanted one’s wife to be agreeably inclined.

“Are you all right?” Viola asked.

He blinked and looked down at her. “Of course.”

“We have been discussing the heathenish play that will scar the souls of children watching the performance!” Miss Pettigrew said shrilly. She turned to Viola and Devin. “On hearing the details, my mother had to retire in order to calm herself. I assured her that I would inform Mr. Marlowe that the play cannot go on.”

“Mr. Marlowe will undoubtedly note that I, rather than you, am responsible for that decision,” Devin told her.

Viola elbowed him, which he took to indicate delight in the fact that Miss Pettigrew was once again swelling like a frog on the edge of song.

“Lady Caitlin’s idea of a performance that includes animals is ill judged and ill conceived.”

Caitlin was seated on the opposite side of the room, her eyes downcast.