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The vicar of Sutton moved fretfully for a moment and then stopped to stare at her. He reached a hand, and she took it to kiss his fingers. “I’m here, Papa.”
It had been a long and difficult night. “Papa,” she said, gently brushing his hair back from his brow, “I am here. Everything is fine. You are getting better.” She didn’t believe her words, but she needed to comfort him somehow.
“Hush, child, I need to remind you before I go … keep your secret close. Never allow anyone to know, and never use it in any but life-and-death matters.”
“Yes, Papa. You and Mama taught me well, and I understand, so don’t worry,” she answered, laying a damp cloth on his sweating forehead.
“Yes, my dear … but there will be times when you are tempted to use what is in you … Be careful.”
“Yes, Papa, I know,” she repeated. He was saying good-bye. How could she bear it?
“Your mother always told me that you were special. She said yours was the gift of many … that it had passed over her and into you.”
“Don’t think about it, Papa.”
“Hush now. I have made arrangements for you, my beloved girl, to go to … Lady … Lady … I … made … arrangements … Lady … Margate …” His words were labored; she had to lean forward to hear him.
“I know, Papa,” she said, the words catching in her throat as she struggled not to cry. “I know.”
“Promise you will go to her … for the new vicar will arrive here … and you … will lose your home.” He moved again fretfully. “I thought you would be safely married before I had to go … My fault … all my fault.”
“Nonsense—nothing is your fault.”
“Promise me, child … you will let Lady Margate protect you …” His voice was scarcely a whisper.
“I promise, but I shan’t have to go anywhere. You will get better and …” He slumped, and she touched him gently. “Papa?”
Realization sped through her, and with an anguished cry she bent her head onto his hand and sobbed.
* * *
Sassy put down the miniature of her mother and paced as she thought about the last few months. Nightmarish? Nearly, though most of the time she had felt numb. Within two years of each other, both her parents were gone, and now, now she had to leave her home—the only home she had ever known.
She gazed at herself in the long mirror. She had lost weight, and her pretty day gown of pale green needed taking in at the waist. Her black hair, though still full of luster and curls as it hung about her shoulders and back, also needed attention. Sad green eyes looked back at her.
Her father had been a vicar in a small village and thus had brought in very little income. It had been supplemented by her mother’s small trust, which her family had not been able to undo, though in all other ways they’d turned their backs on her when she married Sassy’s father, for she had spurned the plans they’d had for her.
Now that small living was Sassy’s, but the home … the home would go to the new vicar.
Lady Margate had called on Sassy immediately after the funeral and reiterated the vicar’s wish for Sassy to join her at Tanderlay Place, and thus Sassy began putting her affairs in order. Even so, leaving had been something she found she just didn’t wish to do, and she’d put it off until she received the letter that a new vicar had been appointed and would soon be arriving. Thus forced to act, Sassy dispatched a note to Lady Margate, advising her that she was ready to move to Tanderlay Place.
And so it was Sassy, with her well-kept secrets, unsure, grieving, and unsteady, prepared to leave the only life she had ever known.
~ Two ~
SASSY WATCHED THE leaves of russets and gold waltz their way to the ground in the morning’s bright light.
She sighed as she heard the sound of horses and stepped outdoors to see a handsome pair of bays pulling a streamlined brown, shiny, and newly styled carriage. At the sight of the Margate Crest glistening gold against the vehicle’s sturdy doors, Sassy thought with a lift of her brow that she was certainly being taken away from the vicarage in style.
The neat carriage came to a halt directly in front of her, and a livery boy jumped from the boot. He stumbled on a rock and went reeling forward a few steps before he caught himself and grinned shamefully at her while he opened the door for its occupant.
She gave the lad an encouraging smile when he shot a furtive glance back her way and stood waiting.
The occupant of the carriage stepped down, tapped the livery boy with his cane, and commented on the lad’s clumsiness before casting a deprecatory glance about his surroundings.
Sassy’s bottom lip quivered as she watched him walk mincingly toward her.
“Good morning, Sir John,” she said, her eyes alight with amusement. He had no doubt just returned from his London romp. She noted that he had taken fashion to the extreme; the points of his collar looked as though if he turned too quickly he would pink his cheeks.
