The Parson's Pleasure Read online

  As Claire entered the library, her mother looked her over and in a teasing tone of voice said, “It is unfortunate, Claire, that you look quite charming."

  Her father, who appeared to be in on the joke, added, “Yes, it is all very sad, for I must tell you that not one male heart will go untouched this evening."

  Claire looked at them both sideways from under her lashes. “All right, my revered parents, you have had your fun. It would serve you both right if I did present Babcock to you as your son-in-law!"

  Both parents looked momentarily stunned, as if the prospect were more alarming than they could quite joke about.

  Then her father said, “Claire, we must be off before I send you back upstairs for that outmoded gown."

  At this they all laughed and set off for the party.

  Claire was relieved to see, as she entered the room, that the gathering was a fairly large one due to the presence of house guests as well as the usual neighbours. She hoped that even if she were seated by Lord Babcock during the meal, the presence of so large a company would afford her a little peace afterwards, when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room. She and her parents were pleased to see that, unlike the previous occasion, Mr. Bennett had chosen to come. He nodded and smiled at them from across the room as they entered. Claire could not help but notice what a fine figure he cut in his pale knee breeches, double-breasted tailcoat, and black and white cravats. His muscular calves showed to advantage in the accompanying stockings, no longer worn as daytime attire but still appropriate for evening wear.

  Dinner was announced quite soon after their arrival, and Lord Babcock, who had been prevented from greeting the Olivers because of his attendance on another guest, now approached Claire, as she knew he would, to lead her to the table. She thought that she had never seen him look less appealing than this evening, in spite of his fashionable clothing. Strangely, the very artifices he employed to conform his physique to the ideal only accentuated its faults. His waist was tightly bound by stays to counteract an inherent portliness, and the shoulders and chest of his coat were padded, to make him look more powerful. Claire found it particularly irritating that he was affecting a military style of dress when she knew very well that he had never taken part in any campaign.

  Having arrived at her side, Babcock made a low bow, offered her his arm and gave her a look as if to say, “You knew you could count on me.” As on previous occasions, Claire could only accept the courtesy with good grace, though she wished that he would not make such a ceremony of the gesture. She was aware that in doing so he had drawn many eyes to them, eyes that held knowing looks. She happened to glance over at Mr. Bennett and caught the speculation in his gaze. She looked away abruptly as a flush of annoyance crossed her face.

  Much to her surprise, however, Mr. Bennett turned out to have been placed immediately to her right at the table by Lady Sitchville, who was in charge of seating arrangements. Claire had expected him to be placed farther below the salt in such a large gathering, due to his dependent position. The thought crossed her mind that the seating boded well for him, for it indicated that at least Lady Sitchville had a good opinion of the rector. Perhaps, with her influence, Lord Sitchville would feel more kindly disposed towards him. Before she could speak to Mr. Bennett, her attention was claimed by Lord Babcock, who was seated to her left.

  “You must know what a pleasure it is for me to see you here this evening,” he began in an intimate tone of voice.

  Purposely mistaking his meaning, Claire replied, “Oh? Did you think that we would not come? I thought you understood that we had accepted your kind invitation."

  The thought that they might possibly have refused it had never occurred to Babcock and he looked taken aback, but he recovered quickly. “You mistake my meaning. But I know how modest you are. That is one of your finest qualities. Do not think I have not remarked it."

  “That is very kind of you, my lord, but I fail to see what my modesty, real or imagined, has to do with it. You must know that once we Olivers have accepted an invitation, we always appear, except in the case of illness. Speaking of illness,” Claire said, hastening to change the subject, “you appear to be in fine health this evening."

  He smiled at her indulgently. “You and your mother are ever worrying about my health. Indeed, I find it very gratifying to be the subject of so much affectionate concern. Since you mention it, though, I must confess to having had a slight headache before dinner—nothing that you should worry about, but something I feel it necessary to mention, nevertheless. It must have been the excitement attendant upon this evening, tension due to the anticipation of seeing so many dear friends.” And with this, he gave her another speaking look.

  Trying to ignore it, Claire expressed her devout wish that he was suffering no other discomfort. Lord Babcock hastened to assure her that all was well and that she should have no further worry on his behalf “at present."

  Unfortunately for him, Lady Sitchville signaled that it was time to turn the conversation from one dinner partner to the other, and Lord Babcock was obliged to face the older woman on his left. Claire turned to her right, grateful that her first round with Babcock was over. A wave of relief passed over her face, and she abruptly recovered herself upon sight of Mr. Bennett, whose presence she had forgotten during the foregoing ordeal, but not before the rector had caught a hint of her expression. He looked at her a little suspiciously, but as she began to talk, he thought that he must have imagined her relief.

  “My parents and I were pleased to find you here this evening,” she began, not thinking of her words of advice to him.

  Amused, now, about that occasion, he replied, “Yes, I have been taking your counsel seriously and have exerted myself to go out in society more, and I must say I have not wanted for opportunities. Everyone has been most hospitable!"

  Claire blushed as she recalled their words at the church—or rather her words, she told herself dryly. Quite anxious to erase the memory of that occasion, she put his answer aside. “Oh, as to that, I hope you did not tax yourself over what I said. After all, you are quite capable of handling the situation without my interference. Pray, let us say no more on the subject!'

  Mr. Bennett acquiesced easily, because he could see that she was embarrassed. After a short but nervous silence on Claire's part, she asked him about the work he was doing in the area and found him willing to talk about it.

  “I have not been here long enough to delve very deeply into the needs of the local poor, as you know, but I have visited all of Lord Sitch ... ville's tenants and have a fairly good understanding of their condition.” Mr. Bennett did not elaborate, and with some constraint he continued, “I will have a few suggestions to pose to Lord Sitch ... ville concerning them"

  Claire smiled inwardly at his repeated hesitation over the earl's pretentious new name.

  “I would like to establish a school under the Madras System, if he can be persuaded to set up a fund for it,” Mr. Bennett went on. “Perhaps an impoverished but reasonably accomplished young woman could be found to teach in it if she could be provided with a cottage and a decent income. Thirty pounds a year would be sufficient. That should not be too much for Lord Sitchville."

  He paused for a moment and looked more closely at Claire before continuing, “Now that Babcock has returned I will be interested to see what his opinions are on the running of the estate."

  At the mention of the viscount, Claire felt her customary discomfort, which did not go unnoticed. She answered dully, “Lord Babcock is quite mindful of his duty, in estate matters as well as in others."

  Finding this statement a bit strange, but not wishing to pry, Mr. Bennett began to talk of other things just as Lady Sitchville turned to the guest on her left. Claire smiled at Mr. Bennett and reluctantly turned to her left once again. And so the evening wore on, back and forth, while she contrived to keep Lord Babcock entertained by asking him questions about himself. This became more difficult as the evening progressed because s
he could not ask him about his studies or his travels, and she ran out of innocuous questions. Babcock did not consider the former to be suitable topics for a young woman and, to tell the truth, the one or two times that he had allowed himself to discuss such things with Claire, she had found his understanding to be inferior to her own. She was constantly irritated by the thought of the education that had been lavished upon him and wasted.

  Claire was grateful to note that she was so situated at the table that when Lady Sitchville was conversing with the more esteemed of her two guests, Claire was turned toward Mr. Bennett. The circumstance allowed her more lengthy conversations with the rector and longer respites between her bouts with Babcock. During one of her conversations with Mr. Bennett, she thought to ask him something that had puzzled her since the evening of their first meeting.

  “If you do not think it impertinent of me to ask, could you tell me what made you go into the Church?"

  An offended look crossed his face, but glancing at Claire, he relaxed. It was not the first time that someone had been surprised at his choice of profession.

  “You stated your question very well, Miss Oliver. I was ‘made’ to go into the Church,” he said dryly. Seeing the question in her eyes he explained further, “As I mentioned to your father, my parents were both dead before I was of an age to begin my studies, and my cousin, who was then the head of our family, wished me to go into the Church. It is quite simple.” Mr. Bennett could not keep a certain bitterness from his tone, though someone less perceptive than Claire might not have noticed it.

  Although he seemed to have finished his explanation, she hesitated before speaking again, but her curiosity was such that she could not refrain from pressing on. “But there must have been something that you wanted to do, wasn't there?"

  Mr. Bennett looked down briefly at his hands and gave a gentle snort of laughter, “Oh, of course. There were quite a number of things, and John and I quarreled about every one of them. Would it not bore you to know what they were?"

  Claire smiled and shook her head. “Were they so outrageous that he could not acquiesce to them?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” replied the rector grimly. “If you knew my cousin, Miss Oliver, you would understand that it was simply because my methods and my wishes were not in accordance with his own. He had already taken a fancy to see me in the Church. I do not know why. It was certainly not because of any particular reverence for it. I think it was merely that he foresaw my obtaining, with his influence certainly, several good preferments."

  Mr. Bennett continued with some sarcasm, “I could always hire vicars or curates to perform the basic duties, you know. I need not have bothered myself with any work. And it is quite possible that I could rise to the position of bishop, always keeping the preferments, of course, to increase my income. It is frequently done."

  Claire was beginning to understand his bitterness. It was clear that Mr. Bennett's principles were too high to allow him to enter into the common abuses of Church power. Seeing the concern on her face, the rector resumed a lighter air.

  “You must forgive me for harbouring some resentment about my situation, Miss Oliver. It is simply not in my nature to live the way John dictates. But to continue, then, if you still wish to hear more, my first desire was to act as my cousin's agent on our family estates. I have a great love for my family seat and could have been happy, I believe, managing it for him. Husbandry is no particular interest of his, so he agreed to allow me a period of trial.

  “Unfortunately,” he said with a rueful smile, “I grew to be too fond of my cousin's tenants and began demanding they receive better treatment. This incurred my cousin's resentment, for such demands interfered with his amusements. It was not long before he saw that he would have no peace as long as I was around to remind him of his misdeeds, and even though his conscience did not appear to be bothered, his temper was."

  Claire could tell, in spite of the rector's attempts to treat it lightly, that the episode had resulted in a bitter disappointment for him.

  “My next request,” he went on, “and perhaps the most reasonable one, was to be given one of my cousin's seats in Parliament. He has more rotten boroughs than he has snuffboxes, and it would not have cost him a penny more than it does to support any other of his members. One of his boroughs has but six voters, and he routinely buys them for twenty shillings a piece. But as you might guess, John had by then realized that I was not likely to vote in a way to please him, so he refused.

  “I was down to two choices then, the Church or the military, and considering the events that were taking place at the time, you will not be surprised to know that I chose the latter. I was no less foolish than the rashest hothead and I was anxious to distinguish myself in battle. Again, unfortunately, my cousin had different ideas from mine.

  “For some reason, John did not want me to take part in the ‘unpleasantness’ with Napoleon. Perhaps it was closer to home than he wanted me to be. At any rate, he saw to it that the commission he obtained for me was with a regiment that went to the war in America.” Claire nodded her understanding, remembering his comments about it on the night of her parents’ dinner.

  “That was a ridiculous business,” said Mr. Bennett with a sad smile. “Fighting a war over an issue that we were ready to back down on, just because they declared war before they got our message. Such idiocy! Still, there is so little love lost in America for our dear George. You do not hear any talk of Old Farmer George over there. They really hate him—perhaps with good reason, though I hope you won't quote me on that. Even so, I got little pleasure out of fighting with men who were but a short time ago Englishmen. Most of our troops felt the same way.

  “To tell the truth, I was almost relieved to arrive home too late to participate in the European wars. It would have been much easier to muster some resentment against the French, but I was rather tired of it all by then.

  “And that is the end of my story, or at least most of it,” said Mr. Bennett, smiling. “It is not particularly brilliant dinner conversation, but you will admit that you asked for it. I hope I did not carry on beyond what your curiosity could tolerate."

  Claire opened her mouth to deny any boredom, but her attention was claimed at once by Lord Babcock, who had been chafing under the long conversation with his other neighbour. She could only lift her glass of wine as a gesture to Mr. Bennett before turning, and was obliged to partake of it with Babcock.

  Mr. Bennett, too, found it difficult to turn to his other dinner partner, and it was with effort that he appeared to focus on the conversation. He had allowed himself to tell Claire things that he had never discussed with anyone else, and by the look in her eyes, he knew that she had divined the pain behind his recollections, though he had made an effort to hide it. It was remarkable to him the speed with which their friendship was forming. He cautioned himself that he would need to be on his guard to avoid falling for those understanding blue eyes. He reminded himself of his position, and his expression became so grim as to disconcert the lady on his right.

  The dinner was soon over and the ladies rose to move into the drawing room, and leave the gentlemen to their port. For Claire, this part of the evening with Lady Sitchville was the worst, because the assembled women always tried to outdo each other in what Claire thought of as the more negative aspects of their lives. There was a strong competition to see which one had the most illnesses or the weakest constitution, a competition usually won by Lady Sitchville, who as the richest person present was best able to retire for whole days at a time with the vapours, refusing to see all callers. Then those who were parents compared at great length the paleness of their daughters or the figures of their sons, and the physical weaknesses of both sexes of offspring.

  Lady Sally refused to participate in these contests, feeling it “ridiculous to be so pleased to have brought nothing but weaklings into the world!"

  Those members who were given to reading at all, recalled for the benefit of all present the most r
ecent novel or short story they had read, almost always one of an improving nature, a tale for the ladies. Everyone discussed the Church, the merits of one set of sermons over another, the most recent works undertaken—in short, anything of a pious nature that could contribute to the self-importance of the teller.

  Throughout all of this, Claire and her mother usually remained silent, having given up long ago trying to inject something more meaningful or entertaining into the discussions. This had earned them the entirely unmerited reputation of being shy or reserved, which they preferred to being hypocritical.

  Sophia Willoughby shone at these soirées, because when it came to piety, she had no equal. Charitable works did not require large purses because no one gave much money to the poor, so there was an equality of opportunity in this field that allowed her to compete with the wealthiest. This evening provided many chances for her to raise the level of attention she commanded, already quite high due to the pity she aroused because of her husband's situation. She used the occasion of having so many ladies of the community assembled to make it generally known that she was to act as hostess to Mr. Bennett's upcoming picnic and tour of the church, calling it “a truly sacred trust, I feel, for it is a great privilege to participate in the religious instruction of our young ladies, however humble the contribution.” And at this, Sophia cast her eyes downward in proof of her humility.

  She received instant affirmation from Lady Sitchville. “It is no wonder that you were asked to assist Mr. Bennett, Mrs. Willoughby, for he must have learned by now of your many services to the poor. Yours and your daughter Lydia's,” she added knowingly.

  Claire was made more than uncomfortable by the implication of these words, not denied by the pleased flush on Sophia's cheeks. As she reflected, though, she had to concede that it was not an unreasonable assumption on the part of Lady Sitchville, for Lydia had been raised in a manner that made her an obvious choice for the position of clergyman's wife, Who better than a young woman of gentle birth, nonexistent fortune, and strict upbringing? At least, with a decent living, Mr. Bennett would be able to support her, and with no fortune of his own he could hardly begrudge her the lack of one. The only thing to say against it all was Claire's conviction that Lydia and Mr. Bennett would not suit, but perhaps that was something unperceived by the two most concerned. Surely it was all too common for one of the partners in a marriage to discover this melancholy fact when it was too late to withdraw. Claire became aware that Sophia was speaking again."Without being immodest, I must say that Lydia and I have given a great deal of our time to our worthy poor, and Mr. Bennett has been kind enough to comment on it. Lydia, in particular, goes regularly to the cottages on my dear brother-in-law's estate and reads to the tenants from the Bible. It is so important that these people receive true religious instruction, for we all know what paths they are likely to follow without the proper guidance” And with this, all the married ladies gave each other knowing looks over the heads of the spinsters.