“None. I wasn’t expecting there to be, but you made the right decision in offering assistance.”
“I’m glad,” she answered. “And as far as church is concerned, then yes. I’d be very happy to attend.” She glanced at the clock. “And given the time, I should make myself ready.”
Giles rose. “I will await your pleasure, my Lady.”
She paused before leaving the room. “Will I be a figure of interest, Giles? How many of the congregation will know who I am?”
“A fair question,” he acknowledged. “Once you sit in that pew, your identity will be clear to all without a word being spoken. So in that regard, yes, you will be a figure of interest and everyone will then know who you are.” He held the door open for her. “Are you concerned?”
“A little nervous, perhaps…”
“No need, Lady Adalyn. Just be yourself.”
She shot him a look of mild amusement. “Easy for you to say.”
He grinned back. “Indeed.”
She hurried to her room, her mind skittering over the coming outing with a certain amount of trepidation. Her hands shook a little as she reached up to smooth her hair into a tidier knot and secure a few stray strands with a hairpin.
Surveying her gown, she concluded it would do. Simple in style, but well designed, it was a pale grey wool, high necked and long sleeved, which she appreciated in this weather, but trimmed with gentle ruffles of unusual pearl grey lace. There were black bands at the hem and a black ribbon to tie beneath her breasts.
With the addition of her black spencer, and her bonnet with only a small grey and black ribbon rosette for decoration, she felt she would represent Wolfbridge and her status as a widow with great effectiveness. None could accuse her of flaunting anything, nor would anyone argue that she was trying to be something she wasn’t.
Her childhood experiences in church had shown her the worst of those things—women who pranced in on a Sunday, draped in their finest gowns and glancing over the congregation like gaudy birds of prey, seeking a likely gentleman. Or the people who strode down the aisle as if expecting God to thank them for being there. Those were the ones who ignored the rest of the world, looking down their noses, believing themselves to be far above the hoi-polloi beside whom they were forced to worship.
Adalyn knew she was neither, thank Heavens. Although she spared a moment to wonder exactly what shewas.
Lady of Wolfbridge, widow of the late Sir Ridley Wilkerson…true on both counts. But who was Adalyn? The woman who found herself exploring new skills and new experiences every day? Or perhaps the woman already far removed from the lost and trembling woman Giles had first brought to Wolfbridge.
It was a conundrum, but she set it aside, picking up her gloves and leaving her room to meet Giles. It was time to pay her first visit to the church of St. Polycarp, which lay less than two miles away from Wolfbridge to the south-east. She’d learned that the estate often provided sheaves of wheat for the autumn and harvest services and if it had been a good year, they would also send holly boughs for Christmas.
So there was a cordial relationship already established, and she hoped to ensure it continued by upholding the reputation of Wolfbridge Manor.
She watched Giles with anxiety in her heart as she descended the stairs to where he awaited her.
“Will I do?”
“You are perfect, Lady Adalyn. I am very proud to walk at your side today.”
“Oh goodness, Giles. Stop. You will turn my head.” She chuckled and took his arm as they walked out of Wolfbridge and down the steps to the waiting carriage. “Not the gig?”
“Not for your initial visit,” he replied. “We shall arrive looking as good as we do now, with every hair in place. First impressions matter, and this is your first time at St. Polycarp’s. It doesn’t hurt to take a few extra steps. Besides, I have a feeling that Daniel and Jeremy may attend. They’ll use the gig if they need to.”
She couldn’t possibly argue with his logic, so she settled herself and prepared for the brief journey.
Several other gigs and carriages were gathered in front of the church, so it took a moment or two for Giles and Adalyn to find their way between them and begin the short walk beneath the lychgate and up the path to the entrance. There was a peal of bells summoning the faithful to worship, and Adalyn wondered at the consistency of Sunday services throughout the land. She’d heard that sound every Sunday, no matter where she’d been at the time, and absorbed the fact that there were feet walking paths like these everywhere in England at this very moment.
The heavy wood doors were opened wide and Adalyn recognised the smell of the church as soon as she stepped inside—the distinct odour of incense mingled with the air of slight mustiness, damp wool and faith. It was unique, but easily identifiable. She would have known where she was even had she been blindfolded.
Giles walked her along the nave, a steady progress toward the altar. She glanced around, noting the stone floors, the carved angels and cherubs where the columns met the arched wood ceiling, and the stained glass windows. Large candles flickered on either side of the altar, as did others here and there within the interior.
There were already quite a few congregants gathered, and she caught a slight rustle and murmur as the two of them made their way to the front of the church.
The Wolfbridge pew was so designated by a lovely carving on the outside—a wolf leaping over a river. There was no doubt in her mind that this was where she should sit. Giles led her to the front and she moved the hassock aside to take her seat, noticing that Giles did the same.
The routine of many such mornings returned, and she settled the worn cushion before her, slipping to her knees for a few moments of silent prayer.
Then she eased back onto her seat, wondering how full the church would be this morning and looking around with interest. The windows were eye-catching, many featuring bright and vivid scenes of fire, sometimes surrounding a man with tonsure and halo. She wondered if this might be St. Polycarp himself, and thought she would ask Giles if he knew, once the service was over.
