“Hope does that.” She couldn’t hold back her opinion. “Eventually.”
He held her stare solemnly. “I would not have taken you for such a cynic, Miss Mossant.”
She turned to watch a few ladies promenading around the room. “Disappointment does that, you know. Too many letdowns tend to stifle one’s optimism.”
He scratched his chin. Perhaps she confounded him. She certainly wasn’t engaging in typical ballroom conversation. She ought to be flirting. Complimenting him, widening her eyes, and feigning enthusiastic agreement with all his opinions.
“I’ll wager you’re an optimist.” She’d redirect the conversation back to him. “A man of God. Your prayers are likely given top priority.” She stretched her lips into a smile.
He did not smile back. Again, that sideways glance. Her heart jumped at the startling blue of his eyes.
“I seriously doubt it works that way, Miss Mossant.”
“It’s not an insult.” She’d be certain he hadn’t taken her comment that way. “Rather the opposite, really.” Those who were good deserved to have their prayers answered. He was obviously one of the good ones. At this thought, she remembered the desperation with which he’d climbed down the side of the cliff, hoping to save Harold.
Hope had driven him. Even then.
And he’d been disappointed. As they all had been.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like to think God does not favor any one of us over others. Are we not all undeserving? Are we not all sinners?”
“Some more than others.” She could not be in complete agreement with him. People discriminated. They passed judgment upon one another, upon themselves. And they were made in God’s image, were they not?
She met his gaze steadily and shook her head.
“You believe me naïve?” He raised his brows.
“I believe your faith gives you confidence. And your goodness.” Neither of which she could lay claim to. “But I suppose that is why you wear the collar. A true calling.”
Those blue eyes of his narrowed. “I hope someday you allow yourself to hope again. You are far too young to be so cynical.” His gaze, after searching her face, dropped to her bodice. “And too beautiful.”
She shivered. Her lack of hope had nothing to do with her age or her looks. Rather to the circumstances life had handed her. She would not thank him for the compliment. “And you a vicar,” she scoffed, feeling defensive at his comment. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and he’d somehow caused her to feel just that. Why had he chosen to sithere? What did he want?
He turned his gaze downward again, and, as though she’d voiced her thoughts, seemed to decide it was time he stated his purpose.
“I do not wish to bring to mind unhappy memories, Miss Mossant.” He remained focused on the floor. “But I never had the chance to tell you how much I admired your composure and compassion on that dreadful day. I do not know that your friend could have endured it without your strength and comfort. I’ve often wanted to tell you this, and when I realized you were here tonight…” His throat worked as he swallowed what else he might say.
His words surprised her.
Again.
She barely remembered the accident itself, often dwelling instead upon everything that happened afterward.
Their assembled group had been sitting atop the cliff, drinking wine and sharing a lovely picnic. Rhoda had been upset with St. John’s attention to another lady. Today, she could not even recall the woman’s name. Her presence, however, had mattered greatly at the time.
Lord Harold had been in a good-humored mood as he joked about falling into the sea, and St. John had goaded him, it seemed.
And then it was not a joke anymore. “It was all so senseless,” she said through lips that felt frozen.
Lord Harold had lost his balance and tumbled over the edge of the cliff. He’d been standing there, laughing one moment, and the next, he’d simply disappeared. He’d ceased to exist.
His wife of less than a fortnight, Sophia, had lurched forward, as though she would jump into the crashing waves below to save him.
Yes, Rhoda had caught her friend, held her back as Sophia sobbed and cried out her husband’s name.
“She is my friend,” Rhoda added into his silence. “I would do anything for her.” And she had.God save my soul.
What else was there to say?
