“This won’t take long,” Alistair sighed as he climbed outside. “Five minutes, I suspect. If I am lucky,” he added with a bitter chuckle.
And then Alistair drew himself up, fixed his attention on the small home, and started toward it. His purpose here was twofold. First, it was to tell the vicar that Alistair intended to wed his daughter. Second, it was to tell the vicar what was expected of the man, now that his daughter would be a duchess. It was this second part that Alistair did not look forward to.
What kept him going, and what allowed for Alistair to look beyond this minor confrontation were thoughts of Yvette and their future.
He still could not believe how lucky he was, not to mention how stupid he had been. To think that he thought she was angry at him for lying to her, and that alone was why she was avoiding him. In truth, she loved him, and so sure was she that he could never love her back that she had committed to leaving him behind to save her the pain of rejection.
Which was all my fault. Was I braver, was I not so self-involved, I might have seen earlier how she felt. Dammit, had I been able to admit to myself when I first knew how I felt, none of this would have happened.
It was a small regret to have, seeing as they had now agreed to wed. And Alistair’s only concern was that he very nearly lost her completely. If he had… he could not imagine what he might do.
But those were thoughts for another time. As he reached the vicar’s home, he drew himself up and braced for the worst.
“Vicar Norleigh!” He knocked on the front door and pushed it open. “It’s me!” He peered inside, noting how empty the little house felt. “Are you home?”
There was no direct answer, but Alistair heard cursing coming from somewhere within, followed by a loud thump. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing exactly what awaited him.
Sure enough, Alistair wandered through the home and into the office, where Vicar Norleigh sat behind his desk, a bottle of whiskey in hand, the stench of sweat and liquor hanging thick in the air.
“I suppose I should not be surprised,” Alistair sighed with disgust as he entered the office. He looked the drunken vicar over and clicked his tongue. “Perhaps I should be grateful that you are awake.”
“Your Grace…” Vicar Norleigh burped. “Wh – what are you doing here? If I had known you were coming…” He tried to sit himself up but he fell back in a slump.
“Would you have gotten more drunk?” Alistair said. “Is such a thing possible?”
“Doubtful!” The Vicar tipped the bottle upside down to show that it was empty. “You don’t have anything on you, by chance? I could use a top up.”
Alistair groaned and rubbed his eyes. “This needs to stop. The drinking… the state of you. It’s finished, Vicar Norleigh. No more.”
Vicar Norleigh pouted. “You think I want to be like this? You think… you think that I enjoy it! I have nothing left! My congregation…my flock… they have moved on. The children too. Everyone.” He buried his head in his hands. “They have left me. And it’s all your fault.”
There was a small part of Alistair that felt guilty when hearing Vicar Norleigh’s accusations. After all, things had been going well for the man before he had taken Yvette away from him. She was the one who kept an eye on him, ensured that he did not return to the bottle, and helped to build him back up from the drunken sob he was after his wife had passed.
But Alistair was not here to apologize. Nor was he here to be made to feel bad. Yes, the vicar had erred slightly, but the damage was not so great that it couldn’t be fixed. Which is exactly what Alistair intended to do.
“Enough of that,” Alistair snapped. “The self-pity… this woe-is-me parade that you’re insistent on throwing for yourself, I am done with it.” He walked around the table and snatched the empty bottle from Vicar Norleigh’s hands. “As are you.”
Vicar Norleigh blinked in surprise at the change in tone. “It is not… I do not want to be this way, Your Grace. But I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice. However, I do recognize that you might need some help.” He looked down at the drunken vicar, making sure that the man was paying him full attention. “We’re going to start by getting you sober. For good this time.”
Vicar Norleigh snorted. “It is not so easy as that.”
“Of course it is. To begin with, when I leave here today, you are to come with me. You will stay at my home for as long as it takes to break you of this habit.”
“I… I am…” He looked bewildered.
“After which, you will return here so that you can bring this parish back to what it once was. I admit, it might take some work…” Alistair looked about the messy office. “But I am willing to hire help so that you will not be on your own. As well as that, I will also be making monthly donations – donations that I expect to be put to good use.” He looked down his nose at the vicar, his tone hardening. “And I will be keeping a close eye on you, Vicar. Know that I will.”
“Your Grace!” Vicar Norleigh stammered and tried to sit up straight again. “I do not know… this is too much!”
“It is not.”
“After all I have done…” He shook his head. “How can I ever repay you?”
“By doing as you are born to do,” Alistair said. “Spreading the word of God to all those who wish to hear it. That is your charge, and I cannot abide it being wasted.”
“But why?” Vicar Norleigh asked. “I… would it not be easier to get somebody else?” He scoffed and bowed his head. “It might be easier to do. I am damaged goods, far too broken to fix.”
