“Howwicked is too wicked?”
“Are we talking aboutyou, Joseph?” Bishop England’s words carried a lilt of amusement.
Joseph wished he understood why. He couldn’t meet His Lordship’s eyes. Here there was no confessional grille to separate this holy man from his own shame. At last Joseph whispered: “I have impure thoughtsevery day.”
“At your age, son, unfortunately that is normal.”
Joseph didn’t want to be normal.
“Time, self-discipline, and most of allgracewill make those thoughts subside. Chastity isn’t something we accomplish on our own—it’s a divine gift. You understand that with every Sacrament, God grants us a measure of His grace? When a man becomes a Priest, God gives him the strength he needs to keep his vows.Volitionis what matters. Do youwantto set aside the things of the world and choose the things of God?”
Joseph nodded fiercely. He was afraid the tears might return. “I do.” When he raised his eyes, Bishop England was beaming.
“I have longed for this day!” He touched Joseph’s head the wayhis father used to do. From His Lordship, it felt like a blessing. “IknewOur Lord was calling you, Joseph. My sister and I have quarrelled over you more than once.”
Joseph too looked across the altar rail to where Miss Joanna stood grinning at him with her hand pressed over her heart.
“She insisted that I must letyoucome tome.”
“Wait till you hear what he has planned for you, Joseph!” With that, Miss Joanna gathered up the old linens and scurried back to the sacristy.
“My first question is this, son: Do you know any Italian?”
Was that a requirement for the Priesthood? Joseph shook his head.
“But your Latin is flawless, and I understand you’ve taught yourself some Spanish as well?”
“Yes.”
“Those will give you a good foundation. I am certain you will master Italian quickly. Your lectures and examinations will be in Latin, of course. But you will want to explore the city.”
“What city?”
Bishop England kept grinning, his grey eyes shining like silver. “Joseph, how would you feel about attending seminary in Rome?”
“Rome?” Joseph gasped. To kneel at the tomb of Saint Peter! To receive a blessing from the Holy Father himself! “I thought I would stay here.”
“The truth is, son, my little seminary cannot give you the education you deserve. As I said, I’ve been anticipating this, and I’ve made enquiries already. You are familiar with the Sacra Congregatio de Propaganda Fide?”
“The Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith.” Joseph nodded. “The Cardinals responsible for missionary work.”
“A young man of your intelligence, the first candidate from a new diocese—I’m certain the College of the Propaganda will accept you and pay your expenses.” Bishop England studied Joseph. “It will mean leaving your family. That is the first sacrifice a Priest must make. If we hurry with your application, you could start in November. Do you think you are ready?”
Joseph swallowed. He didn’t want to leave Mama. He would miss Grandmama and Hélène—and Cathy, too. But going to Rome also meant he would not have to live under the same roof as his father. At last Joseph nodded. “The sooner I begin…”
“…the sooner you will be a Priest.” Bishop England squeezed his shoulder as if to confirm he was real. “Will you promise me something, Joseph?”
“Anything, my lord.”
“Promise me you won’tremainin Rome? I know it will be tempting, but we need you here—desperately. Even ten years from now, I don’t think that will change.”
Joseph nodded. “I will complete my studies as quickly as I can.”
His Lordship smiled again, then averted his grey eyes. “I suppose Saint-Sulpice would feel more like home. You could apply there as well.”
The Parisian seminary was famous. But Joseph remembered Bishop England’s struggles with Archbishop Maréchal. Joseph asked cautiously: “You’re not very fond of Frenchmen, are you, my lord?”
Bishop England sat back and raised his hands to protest his innocence. “I have no objection to them whatsoever—apart from their insufferable arrogance and their refusal to learn English!” His Lordship laughed his warm Irish laugh. “You, dear boy, are guilty of neither fault. You know you havemyrecommendation. We will also need a letter from a physician—someone besides your father.”
