Beside him, Phoebe’s presence was a quiet constant, her shoulder warm against his side, her breathing slow and even, and he couldn’t help considering how circuitous their own path had been. They had both stumbled. Hurt one another. Spoken too sharply or not at all. The marriage they had entered with such resignation had shifted and grown into something neither of them had anticipated—and it had nearly been undone by those small missteps.
Yet now, they sat together, holding fast to one another.
Mr. Colby was not alone.
And neither were they.
***
With gentle swipes, Phoebe smoothed the front of Samuel’s cassock and tugged at a crease near the fastening before liftingthe surplice to settle it over his shoulders. The white linen brushed her knuckles as she straightened and aligned the seams so they lay true, fussing for longer than was strictly necessary.
Neither spoke as they stood there together. There was no need. Samuel watched her as she worked, not bothering to hurry her along. The world beyond the door could wait a little longer.
When she finally stepped aside, Samuel held up his arm for her, though Phoebe hesitated just a moment before accepting: with only Mrs. Broad in attendance, there was no one around to raise a brow at the familiar display as the rector and his wife made their way to the graveside.
At the far edge of the churchyard sat a mound of freshly turned earth. Mrs. Broad waited nearby, wrapped tightly in her shawl, her face pale and her hands clasped as though in prayer. She looked up when they approached, relief softening her features at the sight of them.
Releasing her husband, Phoebe took Mrs. Broad’s arm as Samuel found his place at the head of the grave. The wind stirred the hem of his surplice as he spoke the familiar words. There was no posturing. No affectations of sorrow. Only the earnest remembrance of a life that had mattered to the three gathered round.
And for all that this moment passed unnoticed by Kingsmere, peace filled Phoebe’s heart. Mr. Colby was seen. He was named. He was laid to rest by those who knew him and cared for him in life. And in the bleakness of the afternoon, this simple moment felt like the proper farewell to this gentle man.
Walking arm in arm, Mrs. Broad and Phoebe made their way back to the church as Samuel drifted off to manage the various tasks that only he could see to. Away from the shelter of the churchyard walls, the air grew cold as the wind pressed in around them. The path was familiar, worn smooth by years ofcareful steps, and Phoebe adjusted her pace to align with Mrs. Broad’s as the lady leaned more heavily on her companion.
“You and Mr. Godwin seem more at ease,” said Mrs. Broad, glancing at Phoebe from the corner of her eye with a faint smile.
“I hardly think this is the time or place for such a conversation,” said Phoebe, barely managing to hide her surprise.
“I disagree. Mr. Colby wanted nothing more than to see you two happily settled.” Mrs. Broad paused, her voice growing thin as she added, “He told me to meddle if matters dragged on for much longer.”
Holding fast to the lady’s arm, Phoebe allowed herself the faintest of smiles. “Set your mind at ease, Mrs. Broad. Matters are quite happily settled.”
“I sense a silent ‘for now’ at the end of that statement, young lady,” replied Mrs. Broad with a knowing look.
Phoebe let out a sigh that billowed and swirled in the frosty air. “We are both passionate and stubborn people. We are bound to have many upsets in the future.”
“Yet I do not think that is the reason behind your caution,” said Mrs. Broad as they arrived at her door. Though she allowed the subject to drop as Phoebe removed her cloak and bonnet and settled her into her chair, the lady returned to it with dogged determination. “Out with it. What has you so uncertain?”
Faltering just a moment before Phoebe settled into Mr. Colby’s chair, she rested a hand on the arm. “I do not know if what I feel is real or simply making the best of my circumstances.”
And with quick words, she explained the moment of dawning that had struck her during Griselda’s tale and the ensuing discussion, and Mrs. Broad listened without interrupting, waiting until Phoebe finished before she spoke.
“Their questions surprised me, and I fear I did not respond properly. Or not thoroughly, at any rate,” said Mrs. Broad with a sigh and shake of her head. “Yes, Griselda is a cautionary tale in many aspects, but I adore it because of her fortitude. It pains me that she is forever bound to that despicable husband, but I admire how she found happiness in her circumstances—even when others do not see it. Being the author of your own joy is something we all must strive for.”
Straightening, Phoebe wondered at that interpretation, but Mrs. Broad gave her no time before she concluded, “Does it matter if Griselda loves a horrible husband if she is happy? Or if you are simply convincing yourself to love yours? The deed is done, you cannot go back to the life you had, and making the best of that situation isn’t pitiable or terrible. What does it matter if your feelings are the result of choice or happenstance?”
“It matters if I throw myself into loving someone who will not love me back.”
Mrs. Broad’s brows rose in challenge. “He said he doesn’t love you?”
Samuel had said a great many lovely things, and though he’d admitted to feeling the “possibility” of love, Phoebe did not wish to admit as much to Mrs. Broad. No doubt the lady would simply laugh and wave aside her fears. But a possibility was only a possibility.
“No, he didn’t say that,” replied Phoebe, voicing the answer she was comfortable giving. “But he hasn’t said the words, and it’s just as likely that he never will.”
“My dear, your husband is a cautious man and has learned to guard everything he says and does. I doubt he will ever favor grand displays,” said Mrs. Broad with a frown. “But I ask again: even if he hasn’t and never does, what does it matter if you are happy?”
“But—”
Mrs. Broad held up a staying hand. “We are not talking about Griselda’s poor excuse of a husband. You are not mistreated. Mr. Godwin may speak harshly at times, but I wager you have done a fair bit of that yourself.”
