The next morning, Francis forced himself from the warmth of his bed and the delights of his wife. Yesterday, his employer, Reverend Randolph, had advised him that their bishop had requested that Francis meet with him this morning at 9 o’clock sharp. And he dare not be late.
He hurried to wash and pull on his clothes.
At the Bishop’s Chambers, Francis paced the stark waiting room outside his superior’s office.
Finally, the door opened and his lordship’s assistant stepped into the room. “You may come in now, Reverend Brody.” He held the door open for Francis to pass through. The man hadn’t become any less dour and distant through further acquaintance.
Francis halted abruptly just inside the room. The door clicked closed behind him. His stomach sank. The room held a welcoming committee.
The bishop, wearing his wig of office, sat behind his ornate desk, while every adversary Francis could name was aligned on seats on either side of the room. Reverend and Miss Hodges; Mrs. Dora Jenkins, accompanied by the Earl of Marchmere; and Viscount Travener. Even his employer, Reverend Randolph, was present. This was not an interview with the bishop, but a star chamber meeting to try him.
“Take a seat, Reverend Brody,” the bishop instructed, pointing to the straight-backed chair centered in the room.
A heaviness formed in Francis’s stomach. “First, I would like to know what is going on here.”
The bishop looked over the top of his reading glasses at him. “Of course. A number of complaints about your recent activities have been brought to my attention over the last two weeks. The claims are disturbing. I’ve brought you here to hear your side of the story.”
“And if I don’t submit to this process?” Francis asked.
“I will have no choice other than to dismiss you from your position as curate to St Paul’s Parish immediately.”
The heaviness in Francis’s stomach morphed into a lead weight. He strode to the chair and subsided onto its bare wood.
“You came to me two weeks ago, requesting a common license to marry a young woman of good character, who you claimed was in a dire situation facing homelessness. Now I find from the testimony of her aunt, Mrs. Dora Jenkins,” he nodded towards that woman, “that you have been the instrument that has seduced her niece from her care.”
Mrs. Jenkins nodded in agreement. “He did.”
The bishop sent her a quelling look. “What do you have to say to that charge, Brody?”
Anger ignited in Francis’s chest. “I say that is a complete misrepresentation of the situation. My wife, who is of goodcharacter in every way, was being pressured by Mrs.Jenkins to take a lover.”
He pointed at Travener. “That man. He had already tried to force himself upon her, causing her to flee from a moving carriage and seek my assistance to escape her aunt. My wife moved residence and cut off contact with her aunt, but Mrs. Jenkins found her again and used further coercion to persuade Clarissa comply with her wishes.”
The bishop looked taken aback by this. “Is this true, madam?”
“O’course not! She liked Lord Travener. Even went to supper with him a couple of times. Would have been a good match.” Her words showed a complete lack of empathy for her niece’s wishes. And her eyes were as cold and flat as an adder considering its prey.
The bishop raised an eyebrow. “And you, Lord Travener? Did you force yourself upon the actress?”
“Didn’t force m’self upon her. Might have tried to kiss her. Merely a peck. No need to leap from a carriage though!”
“So, she did jump from a moving carriage to remove herself from your presence?”
Travener indicated Marchmere and Mrs. Jenkins with a flip of his hand. “We all thought she had gone crazy. Jumping out of moving carriage at night.”
“So, you weren’t alone together?” the bishop asked.
“Not at all.” Travener feigned wide-eyed innocence.
The bishop turned back to Mrs. Jenkins. “And what did you do to preserve your niece’s modesty when Lord Travener kissed her?”
Mrs. Jenkins’s eyes darted left and right as though she sought an escape route. “Nothing needed to be done. She wasn’t in any danger of harm.”
The bishop’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “We do not seem to agree in this matter.”
“Your grace,” Reverend Hodges cut in, “none of this has any bearing on the fact that the actress was discovered leaving Reverend Brody’s lodgings dressed in men’s apparel in broad daylight. Scandalous behavior! And what was she doing there? Did they reside together? That my daughter should have witnessed such behavior from a man of the cloth is unforgiveable!” The Reverend’s usually ruddy face had become blotched with puce as he spoke.
“Care to explain what happened, Brody?” the bishop asked Francis.
