Only a few choices stand before me.
But at leastIhave choices.
Mr. Alfred Saintsbury only has consequences.
There is only one choice, however, that I can tolerate.
“If you think, Mr. Thompson, that Mr. Saintsbury will be scared out of his post, you are very mistaken,” I say, using my most intimidating voice.
The man, however, does not cower.
“Fire him and give the living to my son. Or everyone will know of this—this liaison.”
“Your son will never have this post. Tell whomever you please. Mr. Saintsbury is keeping the living.”
“The archbishop will surely object to such a depraved man serving in his clergy.”
“He will do no such thing,” I say. “And if he does, he will have to answer to me.”
Mr. Thompson flushes with anger.
“I do not understand you, madam.”
“Mr. Saintsbury is mine. He belongs to me. He is undermyspecial protection.” I give a smile at that. “If the archbishop has a problem with this state of affairs, he can take it up with me.”
Not many men in England want to displease me. While they may lampoon me in the press and shun me in polite society, no one wants to contend with what my money can do.
“Your worldly power is nothing to that of the church,” Mr. Thompson hisses.
“I would not be so confident, Mr. Thompson. Even archbishops have financial interests—I could buy and sell any clergyman in England twenty times over, including the deans andbishops.”
“I will ruin you both. I cannot believe you would stoop to this level, Mr. Saintsbury.”
Alfred steps forward suddenly. For a moment, I wonder if he will reject my protection and throw himself on the mercy of his church. The prospective humiliation takes my breath away.
“I have done nothing of which I am ashamed,” Alfred says softly. “I would ask for your discretion, Mr. Thompson.”
“My discretion! My son was to have your post, Mr. Saintsbury, ifherfather—” he gestures towards me, “—hadn’t beenjealousthat my boy was worth ten times any of his children. And now he must serve in a little nothing village with no curate. So you will not have my discretion. I will be telling anyone who will hear me about this affair, including the archbishop.” He turns a truly nasty smile on Alfred. “And your father.”
Alfred blanches.
“Good day, Mr. Saintsbury. Enjoy this Sunday. It very well may be your last as clergyman of this parish.”
Chapter 23
Alfred
Itold Annabelle de Lacey that Iloveher.
All week I ached for her. I did not understand why she did not call me to her.
And then, like a miracle, she appeared.
She took me in her mouth.
And it was too good, too sweet, and I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
Then in an impossible, almost comical twist, Mr. Thompson appeared.
