Page 39 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

She allowed her eyes to wander from the stacks of books to her papers, to the pencils and plans. “To bring knowledge to those little girls I have known since their infancy, to spend my days serving them, would bring me joy. I find peace in purpose.” She lowered her head, unwilling to see his reaction to such a ridiculous statement. “I know it is unusual. It is how I was raised, my father and mother both teaching that a life of service and caring for others is worthwhile. This is how I give of myself in a way that brings me contentment.”

His hand covered hers where it rested on the arm of her chair, the soft leather of his glove against her skin a surprisingly intimate touch. There was nothing improper in the gesture, but the familiarity of it warmed her heart.

“I admire you for knowing what it is you want to accomplish and being so sure of yourself. You are making your dream into a reality, too. I wish I was as confident as you are.” Admiration colored his words, causing a tingle of delight in her chest. No one had ever paid her such compliments before. The sincerity in his voice humbled her.

“Thank you.” Daisy’s hand turned and grasped his, grateful for the understanding he offered. Perhaps she could find a way to return the kindness. He took such an interest in her work. Had anyone noticed all his efforts in regard to his estate? “What is it that makes you happy, Harry Devon?”

His gaze dropped to their joined hands and remained focused there. “I am trying to discover that for myself, and I think I come closer every day. I—” He cleared his throat and offered one more squeeze of her hand before gently disentangling his fingers from hers. “I have found I enjoy the duties of a landowner. There are challenges at times. I want to change things. Find new ways to use the property and the funds my father left behind. His only goals were forever to turn a profit.”

“What are your goals if not to increase your funds?” she asked, folding one hand over the other in her lap. She needed to secure her hands, for certain, to avoid taking his up again. What a silly thing, to wish to hold a man’s hand.

“At the moment?” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “All I want to do is the opposite of everything he did. I want to be known for my choices and decisions, build my own reputation. I have seen the expressions of people in town when they see me. The tradesmen, wondering about me. I know what I look like.” He tugged at the lapels of his jacket, cut from fine cloth. “A Town dandy.”

Tilting her head to the side, Daisy swept her eyes from his windblown hair to the tips of his highly polished boots. “I have never thought you a dandy. Finely dressed, perhaps, but not a flighty snob.”

His eyes widened and a short laugh burst from him. “Thank you. That makes me feel marginally better.”

“You have already earned some favor, merely by reopening the house and taking on more staff. People want to give you a chance, I am certain.” She shuffled her papers about on the desk, not so much tidying as simply busying her hands. Daisy needed to take her eyes off Harry, too. Staring at him had started to make her stomach do unusual things. It felt as though she had swallowed a hummingbird. “As a prosperous gentleman, merely by being present you increase the prosperity of everyone else.”

“Hm.” Harry did not sound convinced. “Having the reputation of my father hanging over me like a specter isn’t exactly helping others to see it that way.”

As a vicar’s daughter, she well knew what the expectations of society could be like. Because of who her father was, there was a natural belief in the neighborhood that she must carry herself above all reproach, to an even higher standard than the daughters of other gentlemen in the area. She was expected to be both holier and humbler than the average young lady of her age. If she fell short, the gossip fell heavily upon her.

“Perhaps it is time you socialized more often. I know you have devoted a great deal of time to learning about your duties.”

“Someone told me I ought to be a shepherd rather than let a sheep-herder do my work.” His eyes gleamed when he interrupted, but she fixed him with her best disapproving stare.

“Harry.”

His grin was unrepentant. “I will never forget it. Why should I allow you to pretend it did not happen?”

She blew out an exasperated breath, narrowing her eyes at him. “As I was saying. You need to get to know the people in the village better. Form a few relationships and bonds. No one knows you as the man you are, only as the boy you were before your father passed away.”

“He did not like me to visit the country.” The simple statement surprised her, and Harry seemed to notice. He leaned forward again, his hands on the arms of the chair. “My father kept me away from Whitewood and in London, on the holidays from school when I had to be at home. He would make certain I was getting on well in my lessons, then he would disappear. I could go a whole week without seeing him. I actually preferred it that way.”

Though he hadn’t exactly spoken warmly of his father before, and certainly no one in the village ever did, she had not realized their relationship was that distant. “You and your father did not get along?” she asked, trying to gentle her tone.

“My father did not get along with anyone. Perhaps I should not tell the vicar’s daughter this, but I was almost relieved when my father died.” He ducked his head, and she watched his hands tighten on the arms of the chair. “He wasn’t the kindest man, nor did he care for anyone or anything outside of his desires.”

Although her own father was not overly demonstrative in his affections, Daisy never doubted he loved her and wanted what he thought best for her. How would it have been, to grow up with a father one always wished away?

“I am sorry to hear that,” she said at last, unable to think of anything better to say.

Harry shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. “We made the best of things, my sisters and I. The truth is, while I am sorry for the way the relationship between my father and the rest of us was, I am sorrier for all my father lost by treating us as commodities rather than children.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a humorless laugh. “I apologize, Daisy. I did not mean to grow so melancholy. The truth is, I have wanted to speak to you for some time about something else entirely.”

Daisy tried to banish the sorrow for her friend that had settled on her heart and sat taller in her chair. “Really? What about?”

“I want to make some changes to the way my estate is run,” he said, some of the exuberance back in his voice. “I wish to try new things, make new investments, and be rid of my father’s mistakes. One of the things I have been working toward, since learning of your idea for a school, is setting aside funds in order to patronize those doing good works. I know you wish for the support of the village, and I will do my best to help you with that, but I would also like to invest in your school.”

She drew back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “It is a school for the lower-classes and will only meet a few times a week. We do not need a great deal in funds.”

“I know. But I wrote to my brother-in-law, the Ivyford earl, and asked about school endeavors in Town and throughout the country. You probably know all this, but it is the first time I have wanted to learn such things. There is a movement for the government itself to supply schools to every village. Take over from the church, build schools where none have yet been supplied.”

His eyes lit up as he talked, and he opened his hands in an expansive gesture. He looked almost as excited by the prospect as she became when she thought on the future. She had to press her lips together tightly to keep from smiling, not wishing to give away her amusement.

“What is needed is more support for the men who are proposing these changes, and the foundations supplying education at present. I will donate a modest sum to the school here, and the boys’ school Mr. Haskett leads. But what I would really like to do is give support to the societies pushing for educational reform. I wished to discuss the matter with you to see what you thought and if you might have any suggestions for such an investment.”

Daisy stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. “I am not sure I understand you, Harry. You wish for me—” She placed a hand over her heart “—to do what, exactly?”