If she was blushing before, her face was bright scarlet and hot now. Her last words were delivered in a breathless rush but with the passion of conviction behind them. A chink seemed to appear in Jeremy's armor. A flicker of emotion, no more. But it was there. In that beautiful face, so cruel and yet so handsome, there had been the ghost of a smile. The suggestion that her words had touched him.
He glanced away, and Harriet watched his profile, wishing it did not make her heart and her stomach flutter.
A sculptor could spend his life attempting to capture that profile and consider it a life well spent. Oh my, but I am thinking some nonsense today!
Harriet looked away too, feeling as though her attraction to Jeremy was rendering her vulnerable to him when he was in this mood.
We have never discussed anything more than a month of pretense in order for him to secure the purchase of his property. Nothing more. Ralph would never allow anything more, and I would not come between friends. Or lose my brother, for that matter.
The carriage arrived at the parish church for Woodham Walter, Holy Trinity. The vicar, Edmund Hamilton, younger brother of Jane's beau Phillip, stood at the entrance, greeting his flock. He had a round, smiling face with bright eyes.
Jeremy alighted and offered his hand to Harriet. She took it, feeling the thrill that always came over her when touching Jeremy. She tried to bury the sensation deep down.
This is not the place or the time. We are here to cleanse Jeremy's reputation.
They walked towards the church and were greeted warmly by Edmund.
“Your Grace, Lady Harriet!” he chimed, “I am thankful to see new parishioners always, but particularly the two of you. Phillip informed me you would be attending. He and Jane are inside, as is Lady Sullivan. Will we be seeing the two of you regularly?”
Harriet smiled kindly. “We certainly hope so. Such a pleasant church in a wonderful setting. And Jane has said many good things about your sermons, vicar.”
“That is most flattering. But I merely speak as the divine will moves me. I cannot take credit. Please be welcome.”
They entered the cool darkness of the church and moved along the central aisle before taking a seat in a vacant pew. Harriet could see Jane near the front, next to her mother and cousin.
“I do not see the Winchesters,” Jeremy muttered.
“I do not know if this is their parish,” Harriet pointed out, “though that is not the point of being here. It is so that people will see you attending church.”
He looked at her sharply. “I could have attended church in the chapel at Penhaligon.”
“But none would have seen you but the priest and your servants. We could have gone to Danbury, but I did not want to risk being seen by the vicar there, who knows Ralph. This is far enough removed that he will not hear of it, and Edmund Hamilton is a member of a prominent county family. And known to be devout. As is his brother, whom, I understand, was to take holy orders himself.”
Jeremy had tried to interrupt a number of times, but Harriet did not let him. She had endured enough of his coldness and criticism. As she spoke, his mouth closed tight, a straight, white line. By the time she finished, it turned up at the corners, just a touch.
“So your plan was that my association with these two holy brothers would purify my reputation if the Winchesters got wind of it?”
“Which they will. They are very active socially, and the Hamilton brothers are exactly the kind of men they would wish to associate with.”
“You have given this a great deal of thought,” Jeremy murmured.
“I have.”
“I will reserve judgment.”
“Please do.”
They sat in silence as Edmund took his place in the pulpit, following the rest of the congregation in prayer and song or just sitting and listening. Behind the pulpit was an enormous painting depicting Christ on the cross.
“A fine piece of work. Oil on wood,” Jeremy commented quietly.
Harriet had been lost in thought. She always thought of her parents when she went to church. In that sepulchral space, thoughts of the world outside, the present day, always fell away before long. Today, she found the thoughts of them particularly melancholic.
It is so unfair that they are lost to us because of an accident. A human failing. A badly driven carriage or a poorly repaired one. Ralph and I are left without parents because of it. Why?
She found herself on the verge of tears again, her emotions felt raw and wild. Perhaps it was the passion with which Edmund spoke, evoking a strong response in her. Perhaps it was the unending tension between her and Jeremy. She was aware of him looking at her and gritted her teeth, not wanting to be the center of attention.
Can't he give me some privacy? Can't he see that I need it? Look away!
