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Pursuit?

Pursuit was a most unattractive word.

Chapter Thirteen

A few minutes later, the Duke of Wynter returned with Mr. Marlowe, but without Miss Pettigrew, somewhat to Viola’s relief. Mr. Marlowe greeted everyone and sat down beside Joan, giving Devin a questioning glance.

“My cousin wished to speak to you, Mr. Marlowe,” Otis said, “because I’ve left the parish of St. Wilfrid’s, where you were once a curate. In fact, I’ve left the priesthood altogether.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Mr. Marlowe said. Somehow his sympathetic eyes didn’t make Viola’s heart beat quite as rapidly as before.

“One can only truly be oneself,” Otis said cheerfully. “And if oneself is better suited to a purple waistcoat, it is best to discover such a fact quickly.”

“Otis and I agree that one area of life in which one must look for sincerity over performance is in the church,” Devin said. “And you, Mr. Marlowe, are truly devout and an excellent vicar. I should like to offer you the parish of St. Wilfrid’s.”

Viola blinked. Devin was stealing her vicar! Taking him away to another vicarage.

Mr. Marlowe looked as surprised as she felt. “That is a remarkable honor, Your Grace. I’m not sure what to say.”

“It’s a pretty compliment,” Aunt Knowe said, beaming. “You’re very young to be in charge of such a large parish.”

Viola threw her a jaundiced glance. She wouldn’t be surprised if Aunt Knowe hadn’t put Devin up to the offer, simply to get Mr. Marlowe out of the Lindow townhouse.

“I have made a commitment to the Duke of Lindow,” Mr. Marlowe said, “an obligation to him for one year.”

“I can speak for my brother,” Aunt Knowe said promptly. “He would never stand in the way of a promotion of this magnitude. St. Wilfrid’s is one of the wealthiest parishes in London and well situated too.”

Viola was entirely unsurprised by her aunt’s evident wish to toss Mr. Marlowe out the door.

“I do have some conditions,” Devin said. “Otis has begun improvements to parish life that I support. The parish of St. Wilfrid’s must be a true community. Attendance certainly increased in the last few months.”

“My cousin refers to the reforms that I instituted to bring people to the church,” Otis explained. “I offer sherry after services, for example, which creates a sense of camaraderie.”

“A Sunday school run by Lady Caitlin Paget already exists, but Otis laid the ground for a parish school,” the duke said. “I wish to encourage education of all kinds, including dramatic performances of biblical events. It is important that knowledge of the Bible is available to all.”

Lady Knowe gave Viola a quick glance. One side of her mouth curled up.

For the first time, Mr. Marlowe looked less than enthusiastic. “I enjoyed the liveliness of Miss Astley’s proposal,” he said, “but I fear that the plays may prove divisive. My concern doesn’t spring from the script, which I understand comes from Scripture. My fiancée, for example—”

“Miss Pettigrew’s opinion is irrelevant to me,” the duke said. His tone was very much “take it or leave it.”

“Miss Pettigrew will be happy to learn that the two of you will live in London instead of the wilds of Cheshire,” Aunt Knowe said. “Just imagine: Her mother will be only a short carriage ride away. They can join each other for a meal every day.”

Mr. Marlowe didn’t flinch, which Viola, for one, thought showed great strength of character.

“Miss Pettigrew was a few years ahead of us in school, so she likely read the cycle plays in literature class,” Viola suggested.

“No, because she studied rhetoric instead of literature,” Joan said, shaking her head.

“How on earth do you know?” Viola asked.

“She was famous for having argued the headmistress to a standstill.”

“What other improvements do you have in mind?” Mr. Marlowe asked hastily.

As the group began to discuss various parish activities—a harvest dinner was suggested by Otis, and given a nod by the duke—Viola lapsed into silence to think over Devin’s offer of the parish.

She’d had a sudden realization.