“She thinks I should remarry in order to salvage my reputation as well as my future.”
“And you do not wish to take another husband?”
“One was quite enough for me.” I aggressively pinched off the flowers of the cucumber plant. “But Lizzy can be most persuasive.I have agreed to allow her to bring Mr. Wilson for tea the day after tomorrow.”
“Mr. Wilson is the name of your suitor? Perhaps you will find him appealing.”
“He is twenty years my senior, but Lizzy insists he is very respectable.” I tore off a couple more flowers. “Respectable enough for me to be able to visit Pemberley more often.”
Little frown lines appeared between his brows. “You are not welcome at your sister’s home?”
“I am welcome in small increments, but my character is too compromised for me to live there.”
“That is… unfortunate.” I registered the banked anger in his voice.
I smiled at him. “We cannot all be as forgiving as a vicar.” Mr. Haddad was surprisingly easy to speak to. I couldn’t remember the last time I had an actual conversation consisting of more than a few sentences with any of my Castleberry neighbors.
He followed the motions of my hands as I cleared out the flowers. “Are you taking your frustration out on the cucumber plant?”
“Only the male ones,” I said as I added a flourish to pinching the flowers.
“Ouch,” he replied, and I heard the smile in his voice.
“One picks off the male flowers to encourage the production of female flowers, resulting in more fruit. Which means,” I added, “that I will have more vegetables to donate to the parish.”
“As it happens, that is why I have come.”
“To make sure I am tending to my garden?”
“To save you the trip to the vicarage to drop off the vegetables.”
“I see.” A chill passed through me. “You’ve come here so that I won’t go to the church.”
He smiled. “Precisely. Given that you are kind enough to donate so generously, the least I can do is come and pick them up rather than expecting you to deliver these heavy loads in your basket.”
“I understand.” And I did. He didn’t want me anywhere near the church or his respectable parishioners. “Your timing is fortuitous.” I cooled my tone. “As you can see, the basket is almost full. I’ll just add some tomatoes and berries, and then you can be on your way.”
“May I help? I’m not much of a farmer, but I can pick fruit.”
“That’s not necessary.” I quickly gathered the remainder of my donation. “Here you go.” I handed him the laden basket.
“That’s a very generous portion. The parish will be grateful.”
I doubted that. “Good day, Vicar.” Without giving him another glance, I turned on my heel and walked back to my cottage, where I firmly closed the door behind me.
Lizzy gazed out my cottage window. “Mr. Wilson should be here at any moment.”
I set the porcelain teacups out on the tray. “Hopefully, he will not stay too long.”
She shot me an accusing look. “You agreed to give Mr. Wilson a chance.”
“And I will.”
“You could endeavor to at least pretend to be a little excited.”
I reached for the tin containing biscuits I’d baked that morning. “You forget that I’m no longer a boy-crazy fifteen-year-old.”
“That is not true. I see who you are now.” Her words were gentle. “You have made an effort to be more responsible, and you live a quiet life. And I truly admire all of the work you’ve put into your garden.”
