Samuel winced.
“It is a tragedy for anyone to lose their life in such a manner,” said Mrs. Kirk, her voice laden with sorrow. “There are hundreds lost each year in London alone.”
“That is distressing,” conceded Mrs. Godwin. “But is there cause for this charity in our village? I have been to the Mere, and it is not deep enough to be much of a danger to anyone.”
“We cannot be too careful,” said Mrs. Kirk, her voice firm with determination. “I am hosting a lecture Thursday next in which we will learn resuscitation techniques. Though I hope never to need my skills, I find myself eager to put them to use: the Society awards medals to those who save another from a watery demise. To have something tangible that demonstrates the importance of this cause would make me burst with pride.”
Pausing, the lady added, “I do hope you will join us, Mrs. Godwin.”
Pulse quickening, the words settled in his chest like his bated breath. Samuel knew that tone well enough: it was an invitation and a test. This was precisely the sort of opportunity that would be of great benefit to the rector’s wife. Public and well attended, Mrs. Godwin could be seen to embrace Kingsmere and its odd ways.
Samuel’s heart filled with silent pleadings that she would accept, but silence followed. Surely it was nothing. A moment’s consideration. Yet Mrs. Godwin did not speak. It was naught but a second, perhaps two, but the time stretched thin as they waited.
“That is very kind of you,” said Mrs. Godwin. “But I fear I am otherwise occupied on that day.”
For all that the words were spoken politely, anyone with sense recognized the disinterest that fueled that excuse, which was naught but a euphemism to soften the truth of the matter, just as people claimed to “not be at home” when unwelcomed visitors paid a call.
Mrs. Kirk let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I am certain you have a great many things to do, but if your diary alters, please send word. We would be delighted for you to join us.” A rustle announced that the lady had risen to her feet. “Do excuse me, but I have other business to see to.”
“Yes, of course,” said Mrs. Godwin, accepting that euphemism for what it was.
Ducking out of sight as the ladies emerged from the parlor, Samuel watched the pair give their farewells. Despite the faint tension thrumming beneath the sudden departure, the ladies parted amicably enough, but as soon as the door shut on their departing visitor, something tight and bright flared behind Samuel’s eyes.
The corridor felt too small, the ceiling pressing lower than it had a moment before. His breath caught halfway in, then released in a measured exhale. Mrs. Godwin’s excuse lingered in his ears, smoothly spoken but devastating all the same, and Samuel stood rooted in place, tucked out of sight, as his wife returned to the parlor.
Heat spread from his chest to his limbs, and his jaw clenched, the muscles along his neck drawing taut as he silently followed. Mrs. Godwin was gathering cups and saucers with careful hands and moved about the parlor as though nothing had shifted beneath her feet, as though no door had quietly closed that might not open again.
A creak of the floorboard had her glancing over her shoulder at him.
“I hadn’t realized you were home.” Motioning toward the tea caddy, Mrs. Godwin lifted it for his inspection. “I have put your mother’s gift to good use—”
“What possessed you to turn her away?” he demanded, the words forcing their way past his patience and bursting into the world like the blast from a cannon. “Mrs. Kirk invited you to join her Society. Why did you not accept?”
Chapter 14
Brows rising, Mrs. Godwin set the caddy down. “That ridiculous thing? I cannot think of a greater waste of time.”
“Whether it is or isn’t is immaterial,” said Samuel, striding forward. “She is a pillar of our community, and she was extending the hand of friendship, but you brushed it aside.”
“From the quick way she departed, it is clear she only did so to enlist me. I’ve spent too much of my life accepting shallow acquaintances, and I have no interest in continuing to do so.” Mrs. Godwin scoffed. “And it isn’t as though I offended her. She invited, I politely refused. We parted on friendly terms.”
Turning her attention to the tea caddy once more, Mrs. Godwin gave it far more attention than anything else in her life. Reverently shutting the lid, she placed it carefully back in its place of honor as the room narrowed around him, the air pressing close against his chest until his next breath felt as though it were scraping his windpipe.
That small, ordinary object occupied her whole attention, while the parish demanded more and more of Samuel’s. Hours spent weighing words, smoothing ruffled dignity, and anticipating the next crisis—and his wife stood there, absorbedin polished wood and tea leaves, as though nothing of consequence was going on in the world around her.
“Can you think of nothing but what you desire?” he demanded. “What does it matter if her charity is ridiculous or if Mrs. Kirk’s motives in visiting you were selfish? You are the rector’s wife. You have a responsibility to the parish, which you seem determined to ignore.”
The words came faster now, pushed forward by the tightness in his chest, by the pressure that had nowhere else to go. Samuel stopped short of pacing only because the space would not allow it, his weight shifting instead from one foot to the other as though the floor itself refused to stay still beneath him.
“You sit about while matters pile one upon another, and you look upon it all as though it is none of your concern.” Samuel dragged a hand through his hair and contained his anger enough to keep from shouting. “I thought you were an intelligent and capable woman, one who did not wish to be a burden upon her relatives, yet you seem quite pleased to add to mine.”
Ignoring the way her shoulders tightened, Samuel forged ahead. “You remain stubbornly blind to the weight upon my back, dismissing me as a fool, but every hour brings some new demand, some new expectation I must bear without faltering. And foolish though it may sound, I had hoped that marrying you might—at the very least—allow me a respite. Instead, I find myself yoked to another person I must manage.”
His breath left him in a sharp exhale. “For goodness’ sake, the only reason we married was to please the one woman you seem determined to antagonize at every turn!”
*
Mr. Godwin’s voice reverberated through the room before it reached her, sharp enough that it left a faint ringing in her earsas his composure split at the seams. His movements were no longer precise, his posture no longer arranged for the comfort of others, and the space between them sizzled as his presence filled the room.
