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“Although I think she was a little lost there. Denwick is her real home.”
Dominic had the strong urge to punch the man in the nose. Sibylla must have sensed it, because she reached out and took his arm firmly in hers. “She fitted in to Mockingbird Square perfectly,” she said. “We were sorry to see her go.”
“Oh.” Louis’s brow wrinkled in a frown. “Mr Willoughby believed London was prejudicial to her health.”
“Are you sure it isn’t Mr Willoughby who is prejudicial to her health?” Dominic asked, giving up on restraint.
But Louis didn’t appear to find his words offensive. Instead he considered them for a moment. “Yes, you may be right,” he said. He gave them his sweet smile. “Nevertheless, she is home now and I am glad to have her here. She is a remarkable young woman, as you are no doubt well aware.”
Dominic gritted his teeth.
“I am sure you are a great help to her, and the vicar,” Sibylla said quickly. When he turned his smile on her, she seemed a little dazed. “Uhm. Will we be seeing you on Sunday at luncheon, Mr Scott?”
“I hope so.”
The curate looked a little dazed himself, Dominic decided. His sister could have that effect on men, but they didn’t usually have the same effect on her.
“Perhaps,” Louis began, and then bit his lip. “It may be presumptuous of me, but Margaret mentioned that you sing. We have a Christmas play, and I wondered if you would like to take part. There are still roles to be filled and …” He blushed. “Of course, you may be gone from Denwick by then.”
Sibylla glanced at Dominic. “Perhaps we can stay a little longer …?”
“Of course, Lady Strangeways would need to approve,” Louis said hurriedly, looking flustered now, as if he’d forgotten the biggest hurdle of all.
Dominic coughed back a laugh. “I’m sure Lady Strangeways would be delighted to have my sister in her play. Although I think ‘sing’ is doing Sibylla a disservice. She has an exquisite voice.”
Sibylla blushed and then coughed too. “Apart from your little party in Mockingbird Square, I have not done any singing for a long time, Nic. You are giving Mr Scott the sort of high expectations I can never live up to.”
But Louis appeared delighted. “Then you could do a piece on your own rather than take part in the play! That would not require Lady Strangeways’ approval, so we will not have to bother her.”
“If you … I suppose so. What should I sing?”
They moved closer to each other, heads together, and Dominic had the impression they had forgotten all about him. This was a surprise. Sibylla had always had a fancy for men who were bad for her, and here she was blushing and simpering, quite giddy in fact, with an angelic curate.
It couldn’t last, he warned himself. Lady Strangeways was sure to put paid to Mr Scott’s dreams. She would not want ramshackle Sibylla taking pride of place, or any place at all, in the Christmas celebrations.
And if that happened then there would be really no reason to stay longer in Denwick. Except that he couldn’t tear himself away.
9
There seemed to be more people than usual filling up the church pews, all listening to Mr Willoughby’s sermon. The vicar found it gratifying, imagining it was his words that had brought the villagers from far and wide. “The church will probably be full to bursting when they hear I am leaving!” he said to his family that morning, before he ascended the pulpit. Then, with a frown at Margaret and his wife, he said, “You haven’t told anyone, have you? The news is a secret until it is properly announced by the Dean.”
“No, Father, I haven’t told anyone,” Margaret answered automatically. It wasn’t entirely true. She had told Aunt Lily in the letter she had sent asking her to stay for Christmas. Surely that would not matter? Who could Lily tell after all?
But no matter what the vicar thought was the reason for the good turn out this morning, Margaret knew differently. Once again it was Dominic and his sister the congregation had come to see. A real live earl from London in their little village? What could be more exciting?
Margaret was in a pew to the side of the pulpit, holding her mother’s hand to keep her seated—leaving her room always made her nervous—and doing her best not to turn her head and gawk like the rest. Though she did not have to turn her head very far because Dominic and Lady Sibylla were in the pew directly adjacent to her and across the aisle, while Lady Strangeways was seated on Margaret’s side, as close to the pulpit as she could be.
Maybe it
was her new found flair for the dramatic, but Margaret felt as if the woman had placed herself like a bulwark between the vicar’s family and the worldly temptations of the earl and his sister.
Lady Sibylla ducked her head to see around Lady Strangeways and gave Margaret a smile. She seemed bright and bubbly and definitely recovered from her cold. Dominic did not turn his head at all, staring straight ahead with a grave expression on his face, as if his thoughts were heavy indeed.
Margaret reminded herself yet again that he would not be staying much longer. With the disposal of the house well under way and Sir Cecil buried, Dominic had no reason to stay. None at all. And once he was gone they could all be comfortable again, which was a good thing. Yes, a very good thing.
“Margaret, you are squeezing my hand too tight,” her mother murmured, with a nervous glance.
Margaret loosened her grip. “I’m sorry.”
