Of course, her father was oblivious about the entire affair, and there were times she could almost pretend that nothing untoward had ever occurred. But she had regretted that lapse in judgment for years, which was why she did her best to repent for her sins by devoting her life to the written word and caring for others.
And spurning the advances of men like Lord Markel.
Cain was particularly excited the next morning when he left the inn. He’d had a fabulous start to his day, courtesy of Mrs. Decker and her extraordinary way around a kitchen, but it was the urge to see Miss Meriwether again that put a certain spring in his step.
Even though the air had more of a bite to it than it had the last couple of days, and the clouds threatened something even more ominous than rain, he merely smiled. He was having a grand time in Meriden and didn’t have any plans to depart soon. Not only that, but he had to wait for the vicar to recover so that the man could help him save his blackened soul, because he fully intended not to make the same mistake that James had. He wanted to live long enough to complain about his gray hair and his body’s aches and pains. But in order to do that, he had to ensure he wasn’t taken down by his sordid lifestyle.
When he reached the vicar’s cottage, he knocked on the door and waited patiently. It took some time, but it was finally answered. However, to his surprise, it wasn’t Dove. “Mr. Meriwether.” He inclined his head.
The vicar stood there with a blanket draped across his shoulders, although he hadn’t appeared to be quite so stooped over the first time Cain had met him; it was as if he’d aged a decade during his recuperation.
“Good day to you, my lord.”
Cain frowned when he wobbled slightly. He reached out a hand and laid it on the vicar’s shoulder to steady him. “Are you sure you ought to be out of bed?” He offered a sideways grin. “I daresay your daughter would have both our heads on a platter if she knew.”
The vicar smiled, however wearily. “She has long lived with my stubbornness. I don’t know about you, but I can’t lie abed all the day long. I have responsibilities to which I must attend and sermons to prepare for my flock.”
Cain lifted a brow and said dryly, “Don’t you think God would forgive you if you were too ill to carry out your duties for a brief time? Your health seems a valid excuse to me.”
Mr. Meriwether merely shook his head. “I haven’t missed a single Sunday service, and I don’t intend to start now.”
Cain could tell that there wasn’t any arguing with him. His mind was set.
The vicar looked at him with a knowing glint in his perceptive gaze. “Nevertheless, something tells me you didn’t call in order to chastise an old man.”
“I did intend to check on your welfare,” Cain corrected.
“And to see Dove,” the vicar added, and Cain knew that the older man saw more than he was comfortable sharing.
Rather than delving into something that was still relatively new to him, he said evasively, “I shall come back to check on you tomorrow, Mr. Meriwether. Perhaps then you will have gained more sense.” He lifted a brow, and then started to leave.
“She’s at the church.”
He halted mid-step and glanced back.
Dove’s father shrugged a little too innocently. “If you would like to pay your respects.”
Cain didn’t reply, but merely offered a parting bow. As he started walking down the street, he told himself that it would be best if he just returned to the inn.
Of course, he altered his direction and headed for the church.
Chapter Five
Dove was kneeling down in prayer by the altar when she heard the doors of the church open behind her. She got to her feet and turned to greet the newcomer, as many of the villagers liked to come there during the week for the peaceful sanctuary it offered.
It didn’t take her but a moment to ascertain that the towering figure standing in the middle of the aisle couldn’t be anyone other than the viscount.
Her fingers instantly yearned to brush against her lips, which tingled in awareness the moment she saw him there. Instead, she tied her bonnet on her head and clutched the folds of her pelisse as she stopped before him.
“Good day, Miss Meriwether.” His velvety baritone skated over her skin and caused gooseflesh to break out on her arms. Thankfully, he wouldn’t be able to see the impact a few spoken words had on her. “I stopped by the cottage and your father told me you were here. I admit I was surprised to see him moving about already.”
She gave a melancholy smile. “He has always been very independent.”
He scratched the side of his jaw. “I believe he used the word stubborn.”
She laughed. “Yes, that too.”
As the merriment subsided, something shifted between them—turning more intense. Dove realized how close they were standing to one another, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his body and wrapping her in his warmth.
