“I see.” Frederick spread lemon curd on a second oat cake and chewed it thoughtfully.
Evan did not think it prudent to fully share his conversation with Dorothea when he gave her the letter he had written to Mr. Mortonand asked her to deliver it. She had been appalled that he was even considering bringing Mr. Frederick Morton to be the new rector and insisted on telling him all the details of the reprehensible way in which the elder Mr. Morton had abused Charlotte’s heart.
“Honestly, Father—pleasant as Mr. Frederick is, I do not care to see either of the Morton sons ever again. Mr. Robert Morton all but proposed to Charlotte only to cast her aside when we came to Clayton House to help you. He had even tried to persuade her to elope with him to Gretna Green—and he did elope with this Phoebe Graham. Why the haste? I suspect there was no good reason for him to go north. Indeed, I strongly think that a fat dowry was at the base of his actions. How can you even think to give the living to his brother?”
“Mr. Frederick has done no harm toward our family in any way. You yourself called him a good curate and sermon maker. I have always believed in using my advowson to help raise up worthy men of the cloth to a higher standard of living and my choice of rector is, I believe, a very good one. Do not discount the possibility that it may help mend the breach of cordiality between your family and the Mortons. You have adjoining estates, after all, and one wishes to be on good terms with all one’s neighbors, do not you think?
“In addition, Charlotte seems to bear no ill will toward Robert Morton for his hasty marriage. She told me she likely misunderstood his courteous behavior toward her and raised her own expectations too high. If she can be so forgiving, so can I. And so should you.”
Dorothea made an exasperated sound. “I readily observed his behavior toward her with my own eyes on many occasions, Father. He had every intention of asking for her hand at the ball, had it not been canceled.”
“Well, then, it is a very good thing the ball was canceled that we could see his affection for Charlotte was not leading toward marriage. For had he loved her, he would have certainly waited, would he not? Therefore, it is clear that his feelings for her were not what you or Charlotte perceived. And, since you assure me he did not compromise her reputation in any way, it is not worth speaking of any further. Let us put it all in the past and look forward to helping this young Mr. Morton on his path.”
No, best to not mention any of that conversation to the young man sitting so politely in his study with him now. Evan cleared his throat. “Now, as to the particulars. The living pays one hundred twenty pounds a year, but there are no glebe lands for you, as ours is not a large estate. However, the rectory is very nice and commodious—five bedrooms, two sitting rooms, and space enough for a kitchen garden. And, of course, you will earn extra money from baptisms, weddings, and so forth. Does that suit?”
“Very much so. But, sir, I feel I cannot go any further until a few things are made quite clear between us. Tell me—are you aware of your daughter Charlotte’s…uh…relationship with my elder brother, Robert? For if you are unaware of the romance that seemed to blossom only to unexpectedly wilt, I feel I must inform you of it. I cannot take this living without your knowing of the pain Robert has caused Miss Kendall. You may, in fact, wish to withdraw your offer after I give you the particulars.”
Evan waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, yes, I am aware there was a mild flirtation this summer, if that is what you are referring to, Mr. Morton. However, I have been assured by my daughter that any fault in the alleged romance is hers, and she likely had allowed herself to have greater expectations than your brother ever truly demonstrated.”
Frederick pressed his lips together firmly as he considered how to reply. “I wish I could believe that was the case, sir. Miss Kendall is being too kind, in my opinion, in her report of my brother’s conduct. It is my firm belief that any expectations your daughter had were not a misunderstanding or misinterpretation. She is the sad victim in this too-short romance, and Robert’s behavior was neither right nor gentlemanly. And frankly, sir, that is why I nearly wrote a letter of refusal to your kind offer—one that I may still turn down. For you see, I would hate for my presence to be a constant reminder to your daughter of the heartache she endured when my brother so swiftly eloped.”
“Ah. Well, I thank you for your explanation, but I know my daughter perhaps a bit better than you do. She will rally from her dashed expectations in due time. Should Charlotte be, in fact, nursing a wounded heart—and I do not believe she is—then seeing you would surely improve her spirits. In all truth, that is another reason why I am offering you the living here. She spoke to me of the sincere pleasure she took in your company—your mutual love of music and books, and of your giving her drawing lessons. She clearly regards you as a friend, and I am hopeful she will be happy to renew that acquaintance.”
Evan set his tea cup down, smiled, and stood. “Now, before you make up your mind for all and good about this living, do come with me to see the church and rectory.”
Frederick nodded and followed Mr. Kendall out of the study. As they walked through the entry hall, Frederick could hear someone playing a pianoforte down the hall. He paused to listen.
Evan noted his interest. “Charlotte has spent many hours in the drawing room practicing since coming home—that is, when she was not nursing me through my illness. I do not believe I would have survived had it not been for her tender care.”
The music abruptly halted. “Papa?” Charlotte called. “Are you finished with your meeting?”
The voice was coming closer. “I wished to ask you—” She broke off as she entered the hallway and saw who stood beside her father. “Mr. Morton. What a surprise,” she said faintly. After another moment, she collected herself and gave a small curtsy.
Frederick bowed to her and opened his mouth to reply, but Evan spoke first.
“Ah, Charlotte. Mr. Morton is here to discuss taking the living at Clayton Parish. We were just about to walk over to inspect the church and parsonage. You spoke so highly of his abilities that I was convinced of the good sense of offering the vacancy to him. And, should he take it, I believe he will be most happy to continue your drawinglessons. I know that will please you, because you have shown me how much progress you have already made under his short tutelage when you stayed with Dorothea.”
Charlotte and Frederick just stared at each other, both unable to speak a word. Observing them, Evan suppressed a smile and clapped a hand on Mr. Morton’s back.
“Let us begin our tour, shall we, Mr. Morton?” he said, guiding the curate toward the front door where he picked up his cane and then turned back to his daughter. “My dear, our guest will be joining us for dinner. Perhaps you could do me a favor and ensure that Cook has a good menu planned. I did not know what exact day to expect Mr. Morton, you see, so I could not give her any advance notice for having company to dine. You will see to that, please? Thank you.”
Charlotte managed to choke out a weak, “Of course, Father,” as she stood in the hallway, watching the two depart. They did not see, then, how, after the front door closed behind them, Charlotte’s knees gave way, and she suddenly was sitting on the parquet floor.
Chapter Thirty-Six
That evening, Charlottedid her best with her hair and dress—choosing one of the two nicer gowns she had brought with her from Haverstone. She wished now she had brought one or two of her more elegant gowns. Not that she was trying to impress Mr. Morton. But, it was the first company Clayton House had hosted since her father fell ill, and she knew Lavinia would dress her best, so Charlotte felt she must make at least some effort.
Once she had recovered from the shock of seeing Frederick, she had done as her father asked and made sure dinner would be acceptable for company. Then, she fled upstairs, remaining in her room until it was time to come back down for dinner. Seeing him again had renewed her sorrow over Robert’s betrayal, and she shed a few tears as she paced her room.
So many questions ran through her head: Why was her father offering the living to Frederick? What was his hope in doing so? Did he have thoughts of encouraging a romance between her and Frederick? It seemed ridiculous to imagine such a thing—her father had never once taken steps to put any gentleman forward as a potential match for her since she came out. He had done his duty and paid for two Seasons in London, and he certainly was agreeable to sending her off to Haverstone for Dorothea to find a husband for her, but in all cases, he had kept his opinions to himself for the most part and exhibitedlittle interest in any prospective romance. So, she found it next to impossible to conjecture that he was now attempting to spark a match between her and Frederick.
Father means well, but I cannot believe he has any ideas of a romance between Frederick and me. It likely is just as he stated—my praise of Frederick as a curate simply made it convenient for him to fill the living with minimal effort and that is all. Besides, Frederick has never shown romantic intentions toward me. He has never paid me any special attentions, such as sending me flowers or coming to call. And since Robert, no doubt, told him of his attachment to me, I am certain Frederick only ever had thoughts of me as his future sister. His awkwardness when we met today was likely due to his embarrassment over his brother’s behavior and does not signify anything else.
The matter somewhat settled in her mind, Charlotte washed her face before lying down to rest a while. She resolved to be a gracious hostess that evening but to speak as little as possible to Frederick without appearing rude. If she could just manage to keep her composure through tonight, then the next occasion when they met would be that less painful. And each subsequent encounter would be easier until she would no longer think of him as the brother to the man who had broken her heart but merely as an amiable gentleman and the new rector.
*
At dinner, Charlotte’sfather sat in his usual place at the head of the table with Lavinia at the other end. As the guest, Frederick sat on Lavinia’s right and Charlotte directly across from him on her sister’s left. Miles was seated down by their father. Lavinia, who loved company above all things, kept up a bright conversation, asking Frederick many questions about Brentwood.
