The Parson's Pleasure Page 5

  “Yes, unfortunately. I often have parish business to which I must attend, otherwise I should be quite happy to accept more of the invitations I receive.” His tone was one of polite insincerity.

  Now that the time had come to make her point, Claire found that it was more difficult than she had anticipated to put her thoughts into words without sounding odiously patronizing, so she fumbled for the proper angle. “We were most surprised to note your absence at Lord Sitchville's dinner last Tuesday. I imagine that it would be difficult indeed to turn down his invitation."

  Something about this speech caused Mr. Bennett to sense that there was some underlying significance to her words. Thinking that it might be enlightening to see what more Miss Oliver had to say, he assumed an air of respectful questioning.

  “Do you feel, then, that I was in error in not accepting the invitation?"

  Gathering from this naive question that Mr. Bennett was indeed in need of advice, Claire rushed on, “Not perhaps in a social sense as much as a tactical one. I understand your need to attend to the parish, but perhaps you do not fully understand Lord Sitchville's character—what attention he requires to make him happy.” Claire began to falter as she perceived a glint in Mr. Bennett's eye and a stiffening in his manner.

  “It ... it is presumptuous of me to suggest anything to you on such short acquaintance, I know, but ... but ... “ She had begun to stutter, but at last blurted out the rest. “I know that he would be greatly pleased if you attended his dinner parties and such!'

  Claire felt as though she had shrunk in stature. There was no mistaking the coolness in Mr. Bennett's tone when he replied, “Your advice is kindly taken, Miss Oliver. I will certainly take it to heart.” And he formally bowed her out.

  Relieved to find the conversation at an end and dismayed at its outcome, Claire moved on. There were other people behind her waiting to speak to the rector. She realized that her father had been right when he had cautioned her to stay out of Mr. Bennett's affairs. The rector had certainly not welcomed her advice, and she knew from his response that she had not only presumed, she had offended. She was not at all clear about what she had said to merit just such a reaction from him, but he had made her feel like a foolish little girl.

  The worst of it was that she had so enjoyed his sermon, and then talking to him and having him appreciate her humour, that to have caused its reversal was a keen disappointment.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The following morning, Lord Oliver suggested that Claire and he ride over to the rectory and take advantage of Mr. Bennett's invitation to use his library.

  “For it is possible that we may not have the opportunity to do so much longer, if the young man persists in offending Lord Sitch,” he pointed out.

  Claire was in no way averse to this scheme, since she was ever on the lookout for things to occupy her mind and time. And she doubted that Mr. Bennett would glower at her in her father's company, so they soon set out in her father's curricle. The trip was a short one, just over two miles, for the Olivers’ estate lay not far from the parsonage and the church was just the other side. Claire held the reins, as she frequently did when they were together, for her father had taught her to drive with competence.

  As they approached the rectory, Lord Oliver, seeing no groom in attendance, instructed Claire to alight and go up to the house while he stabled the horses. He handed her down, climbed back into the curricle, and headed for the stables, while she moved towards the house and prepared to wait for her father near the door.

  The rectory was a Georgian structure which, at this time of year, was beginning to show fresh sprays of ivy clinging to its stones. It was small compared to the Oliver mansion, but quite suitable for its purpose. Claire who had, since her coming-out, been there many times for teas and small dinner parties, noted with approval the slight changes the new rector had made in the gardens. Some of the statuary which she had not particularly liked had been removed, and the gardens had a softer, more natural look for which she was hard put to find the reason. As she turned her gaze once round the entire enclosure, she realized that it was taking on more the aspect of a park, with the trees and shrubs being allowed to grow more naturally. This pleased her, for she had never sincerely admired the clipping and tailoring of the formal garden.

  Claire arrived at the house, approaching from one side of the circular drive. As she passed what she knew to be the drawing-room window, she was startled to recognize Uncle Bobby's voice coming in excited tones from within. Only then did she remember the appointment she had overheard him make with Mr. Bennett on the previous day. The words she was now hearing, which came to her loudly and distinctly, were uttered with a ring of triumph.

  “She says that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the sons!"

  Mr. Bennett's reply was cautious and questioning, as if he were as much in the dark as to the direction of the conversation as Claire was herself.

  “Yes, Mrs. Willoughby is correct; that is what we are given to understand. But I am afraid I do not fully comprehend what you wish for me to tell you."

  “But that's just it, man!” exclaimed her uncle. “Don't you see? I haven't got sons! Only a daughter! The good book don't say anything about daughters, does it? So what's the point?"

  Claire had to stifle a cry at the stupidity of her uncle's comment, which tickled her enormously, but at the same time dazzled her with its foolishness. She heard Mr. Bennett disguise a similar reaction with a discreet cough before he replied, “ In point of fact, Mr. Willoughby, the Scriptures do not mention daughters specifically there, but it is the general interpretation, I am afraid, that the word ‘sons’ is used to encompass all offspring, whether male or female. I think you can rest assured that the phrase was not intended to relieve men or indeed women from the consequences of their misdeeds to any of their children."

  Just then, Lord Oliver caught up with his daughter and they proceeded to the door without a word, although Claire could dimly hear her uncle expostulating in the background. Her father, whose hearing was not as keen, was unaware of his brother-in-law's presence until their paths crossed in the front hall of the rectory. Mr. Willoughby had come out of the parlour with an expression of discouragement but not defeat. When they encountered him, his look became sheepish and he seemed suddenly in a great hurry to get away. He bade them good-day, thanked Mr. Bennett, and took himself off. The baron was a little amused to find him there, obviously thinking it was the work of Sophia, for how else to explain Bobby's association with the clergy?

  From the different looks on the baron's and Claire's faces, Mr. Bennett managed to discern that, of the two, only Claire was aware of what had just transpired, and an amused glance passed between them. Claire experienced the delicious feeling of sharing a joke, which she had rarely experienced outside her own family, and she was pleased to find that the rector's warmth towards her had apparently been restored. He had either forgotten or forgiven her presumption of the day before.

  Mr. Bennett turned to the business of welcoming his new callers and offering them refreshment, then expressed his delight that they had come to use his library. He offered to show them around and point out works of particular interest, including some of his own books. Lord Oliver seemed reluctant to put their host to so much trouble, but he was quick to put them at ease.

  “As a reader, Lord Oliver, surely you will understand the pleasure in sharing a favourite book with a friend,” he said.

  The baron answered with chagrin, “Unfortunately, I am more familiar with the displeasure of having my favourite works unread by most of my acquaintance, and usually misunderstood by those who have read them. I hope that you will find my daughter and me more worthy of your attention."

  “I have no doubt of that, sir,” said Mr. Bennett, smiling at Claire as he did so. “Indeed, I am sure of it.” Then he proceeded to give them a tour of his library, encouraging them to browse as long as they liked and to call as often as they wished. Lord Oliver was pleased to find
some of his old favourites from his Oxford days, which were not in his own library, and he settled down to peruse a number of them, preferring his old friends to anything new. Claire was a bit overwhelmed by the selection before her, as most were unknown to her and she scarcely knew where to begin.

  Sensing Claire's dilemma, Mr. Bennett smiled at her and asked, “Are you a student of science as well as politics?"

  Claire started, then blushed as she recalled her conversation on the night he'd come to dinner. “Not many scientific works come my way,” she answered, “since my father is more interested in philosophy than physics, and his library reflects his interests."

  “Then, perhaps for a change you would like to glance at some of my recent acquisitions about the origin of various life species, one by a Frenchman called Lamarck. I find his theory very thought-provoking, and I should be interested to see how it strikes you. Of course, if it does not interest you, we will find something else that will!'

  Claire was completely disarmed by his acceptance of her mental capabilities, and she hastily and eagerly assured him of her interest. She was grateful to him for offering her the chance to learn about something new, something that none other of her acquaintance would consider a fit subject for a woman to read. She took the book he held out and sat down in a comfortable chair to look at it.

  “If you and your father will excuse me while I attend to a small matter of business, I will return shortly,” the rector said. “I hope that before you leave you will permit me to show you around the garden."

  Claire indicated her pleasure at the notion and began reading. The subject was new to her and made difficult reading, but by the time Mr. Bennett returned to the room she was totally enthralled. The rector proceeded to invite Claire and her father to take a turn in the garden. Lord Oliver, however, suggested they go without him, so happy was he with his reading.

  “How are you finding the book I suggested?” asked Mr. Bennett as they strolled out a set of double doors that led to the garden.

  Unable to keep the enthusiasm out of her voice, Claire replied, “Of course, I have not delved very deeply into it yet, but the little I have read is fascinating and entirely new to me. I have always taken the animals and plants around me for granted and have never given any thought as to their origins."

  “It is a fascinating subject, one that is being debated hotly these days. You can imagine the opposition coming from the Church. I myself am not at all certain that we won't experience a major upheaval in Anglican theology as a result of these findings."

  Claire was impressed. Rarely was she exposed to anyone who was as well educated as she was, but she now had a glimpse of the wealth of subjects to which she had not even been exposed. The thought was exciting, and she began to realize that there was much more to Mr. Bennett than she knew. She regretted her condescension to him on the previous day, although she hoped that he had begun to take it with the proper spirit. Her intentions, after all, had been of the highest.

  She was reminded of her uncle's visit to the rectory and she could not refrain from mentioning it. “I could not help but overhear the last part of my uncle's conversation with you as I approached your door today,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I can see that his understanding of moral matters has not improved in spite of my aunt's attentions."

  Mr. Bennett chuckled and turned to face her. “If you only knew the effort it costs me not to laugh, sometimes quite uncontrollably, when I receive the confidences of some of my parishioners. I should not confess such a thing, but I think you will understand. I must admit that I have never come across just such a one as your uncle, however.” He became more serious and looked at her quizzically. “Can you think of any trouble your uncle might be in that would cause embarrassment to his family?"

  Claire looked startled. “Why, no! Have you reason to suspect that such might be the case?"

  “Not really,” he admitted. “It just seemed to me that he was very anxious to find an escape, or justification, or excuse of some sort. There was nothing definite. But I have never been approached in such a way before—almost as if he were trying to get a clearance or indulgence before the fact. Most peculiar."

  Claire laughed. “Don't worry about Uncle Bobby. He is a law unto himself. He is something of an eccentric, but entirely harmless. He has been irresponsible in the past; I have no wish to be indiscreet about his business, but it is no secret and a number of people around here will tell you if I don't. He loves to muse on the inequities of life, as he perceives them, which is invariably from the point of view of lacking the things he most desires, no matter that he is largely responsible for the present state of his affairs. My guess is that my Aunt Sophia, who is enamoured of the clergy in general, suggested that he call upon you, and to preserve peace at home, he complied—if you will forgive my frankness. As to the subject of his conversation, it is quite likely that he considered it a topic that you would enjoy, quite the intellectual debate! “

  Mr. Bennett laughed again and seemed inclined to accept her reasoning. Claire was glad that he did not stand upon his dignity as a clergyman. Having settled the question about her uncle, she thought to compliment him upon his changes to the rectory gardens.

  “I am glad you like them,” he replied. “It is never too early to start making changes if I intend to be staying here for a time, and as long as I am here, I want to enjoy the aspect."

  His words caused Claire to look at him searchingly, and, as if divining her thoughts, he returned her gaze and said contritely, “You must forgive my manner to you yesterday, Miss Oliver. I know that your intentions were generous.” He hesitated a moment before going on, but seemed to respond to her silence with a sense of trust.

  “I'm afraid that I resent the commonly held views about what is required of a dependent clergyman. You see, it is with a certain reluctance that I have embraced this profession, but having done so, I intend to handle it in my own way."

  Claire looked at him, and the questioning concern in her expression encouraged him to continue.

  “I do not mean to spend my time shooting with Lord Sitchville and his friends, or fishing, as I understand Twickenham did. There are things I mean to accomplish here, and they will occupy my time. Frankly I do not care to sit over a glass of port with Sitchville and his cronies exchanging ribald stories—I also hear that Twickenham was one to tell his share of stories when in his cups. Nor do I intend to please Lady Sitchville by playing whist at her elbow and complimenting her play. It is not the wealthy here who need my help, and I do not intend to waste my time with them. In short, I am starting as I mean to go on."

  Claire smiled apologetically at him. “Now I see why my remarks were so offensive to you yesterday, and it is clear that I deserved your reaction.” She stopped him before he could protest.

  “I have only admiration for your intentions,” she went on. “You are quite right, and I was only speaking from the ignorance borne of not having known another clergyman who takes his duties seriously. I must suppose from what you say that you are not ambitious for yourself, and that it is of no importance to you to find favour with Lord Sitchville."

  Mr. Bennett smiled grimly. “Yes, you've stated it well. And, indeed, I think that I have quite given over thinking of my own ambitions."

  “Well, then, I have only one more suggestion,” said Claire gently, “and that is that while Lord and Lady Sitchville, and others of us in fortunate circumstances, may not need your attention so much as the poor, we must all of us benefit by your influence. I hope that you will give us the opportunity to learn from your example."

  Mr. Bennett smiled at her, amused yet chagrined as well. “I do not mean to hold myself up as a paragon, Miss Oliver. The occasions on which I decline invitations are most often the ones that I emphatically do not wish to attend. They hold nothing but boredom for me. I accepted your father's invitation with pleasure for the simple reason that I liked him when he called upon me, and I knew that I should enjoy talking with him again
. I do not mean to be a hermit."

  Claire laughed. “I have just been wondering why you decided to dine with us. You must know that it was written all over your face when you arrived that you expected to be bored out of your wits. And if it was not my father you feared, it must have been my mother and me! “

  Mr. Bennett looked surprised to be found out, and he laughed guiltily. “I will be honest with you. As much as I admired your father from the start, I could not know that my admiration would extend to you and your mother. I have spent many a dull evening in the home of a provincial gentleman and his family due to the constraining influence of a dull wife or daughter. It is only in London that I have come across such intelligent and witty women as yourselves, and those are always many years my senior. Lady Melbourne, Lady Holland—you must know who they are."

  Claire blushed at the compliment and then laughed. “I can see you mean to excuse yourself with flattery. We can certainly not boast of being in the same class of hostess as those two ladies."

  “No,” said Mr. Bennett, smiling comfortingly, “you are not so jaded."

  Claire thought it was time to change the subject, and thanking him, remarked that she had better return to her father soon so that they would not overstay their welcome. Denying that this could ever be the case with such charming company as theirs, Mr. Bennett led Claire toward the rose garden where he kindly cut some buds for her to take with his compliments to her mother.

  They returned to the library, and presently the Olivers set off for home.

  What an extraordinary woman, thought Mr. Bennett as he watched them drive away. He could not recall any female of his acquaintance who had her abilities, and on top of that, she was beautiful. He remembered appreciatively the way she had talked about her uncle—with humour, but no lack of affection, and with a frankness he had long ago despaired of finding in the gentler sex. There was something else about her, too. He could talk to her on any subject, it seemed, and be understood. He was comfortable in her parents’ company as well. Lord Oliver was a man he could respect and admire; Lady Sally was an engaging rogue.