The Parson's Pleasure Read online

  Sophia Willoughby was a product of the Society for the Suppression of Vice. Her rather middle-class mother had been quite active in it, and although Sophia herself was not a member, she was a firm believer in its purpose. Its members were dedicated to preventing the free use of leisure time on the Sabbath, the only day that the labouring classes had off. They were pressured to spend this precious time in religious devotion, rather than on amusements. The Good Poor were taught that they would receive blessings as a favour, not as their right. It was a continuing worry to the members just how the poor were using their free time, though the same concern did not apply to the Establishment.

  Claire stiffened in her chair to hear her father's tenants discussed in so condescending a fashion, for they were not so poor as her aunt made out. In fact they were quite well off when compared to others. She also had the feeling, gleaned from her own visits to the tenants, that her aunt's and cousin's visits were not generally appreciated. Though unsophisticated and uneducated, these people seemed to Claire to be perfectly able to choose how to practise their religion—those that desired any, of course—and it was doubtful if being read to inspired them the way it was intended. She was sufficiently riled to break her customary silence, but fortunately, before she could speak, the gentlemen entered the room.

  Claire glanced towards the door in time to see her uncle strolling into the room with Mr. Bennett, the sight of which gave evident satisfaction to his wife. As they separated, however, Mr. Bennett glanced at Claire with a look of mixed exasperation and amusement, to which she responded with a smile of complete understanding. It was difficult not to giggle when one knew the type of conversation the two gentlemen had been exchanging. She was certain it was not what her aunt would have desired.

  The smile of pure enjoyment on her face served as an invitation to Mr. Bennett, and he crossed the room to join her, just as Lord Babcock, perceiving her, started her way. With a look of mild irritation at the rector, Lord Babcock turned aside. Claire was surprised to note that he did not persevere in his usual possessive and aggressive manner, as she had seen him do so frequently with his social inferiors. She could only suppose that he was deterred in his bad manners by his dislike for the clergy, but she hoped he would not feel offended by Mr. Bennett's friendliness to the extent that it would further damage the rector's relations with Lord Sitchville.

  “Is my uncle desirous of visiting more sins upon his children?” she questioned as she welcomed Mr. Bennett to her side.

  He replied, with a suitable expression of serious reflection, “In fact, Mr. Robert Willoughby has been asking me if I could confirm that both Saint Paul and Saint Peter adjured wives to be subject to their husbands."

  “Oh, dear. I wonder who could have told him that,” said Claire anxiously. “Surely my aunt would never have been so foolish."

  “No,” replied Mr. Bennett, smiling. “I distinctly got the impression that the information was supplied by a member of the servant class, perhaps a groom."

  “That must have been Lord Sitchville's new man, Tucker.” She frowned. “My uncle seems to have developed a keen respect for him, but I thought it was based on his way with horses, not his knowledge of the Scriptures. It is not an association my aunt would approve of, for obvious reasons."

  “If he does no more harm than to quote him Scripture that works selectively to his benefit, the friendship should not be that damaging."

  Claire laughed. “I see that he has slipped out of the room, undoubtedly headed for the stables.” She smiled at Mr. Bennett again. “How did you answer him?"

  “I had to confirm what he had heard, but I pointed out that Saint Peter and Saint Paul also recommended that men be kind and considerate to their wives. The Scriptures are usually quite evenhanded about these things, much more so than most people credit. I find that many like to use the writings for their own purposes, and they can usually find some obscure passage to justify just about any behaviour. Never mind that the passage will be tempered just a few pages further on. The worst is that in focusing where one wishes, one frequently misses the essential message of the whole—love and charity for one's fellow man."

  Claire was in such wholehearted sympathy with this sentiment that she wanted to confide in him the ladies’ conversation that had preceded his entry into the room, but she decided that it was not her place to expose the others. She began to realize that a similarity of thoughts and opinions was drawing her into a kind of intimacy with Mr. Bennett which made her forget to guard her tongue. Considering his and her relative positions in society, she decided that she must be careful not to be more open with him than would be appropriate. So, beyond signaling her appreciation of what he had said with a demure “I agree completely,” she did not allow herself to be drawn into what would have been an enjoyable discussion.

  Mr. Bennett moved on with the intention of joining Lord Oliver on the other side of the room, but he halted near the doorway as Robert Willoughby stepped back inside. Mr. Bennett noticed the disappointed look on his face.

  “Braving the night air, Mr. Willoughby?” he could not help asking.

  Bobby started, “Eh? He wasn't there ... I mean, yes. That is, confound it, no!” He became disgruntled. “I don't believe all that nonsense about the night air being unhealthy. Some of my healthiest moments have been outdoors at night.” He caught himself and sought to divert the conversation.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Bennett had been observing Babcock, who approached Claire as soon as he had taken his leave. There was no mistaking the direction of his attention, so thoroughly did he accentuate each gesture. The rector's expression grew speculative.

  Bobby watched him with understanding, and his own recent discomfort led him to an indiscretion. “I wouldn't get too interested in that direction if I were you,” he cautioned. “They have an understanding, if you know what I mean. Since the cradle, they tell me. The way I hear it, she's only waiting for him to pop the question and the knot will be tied. Quite a feather in our caps, I'm sure, to catch a prize like Babcock."

  Mr. Bennett glanced at Robert coldly. He said nothing, but Robert felt the impropriety of his remarks. He rapidly excused himself and joined the other gentlemen. The rector glanced back towards Claire and Babcock, then stared vacantly at the room, stroking his chin.

  The party was broken up into groups for card tables. Claire was spared a long tête-à-tête with Babcock, which would surely have spoiled the evening, the pleasantness of which had surpassed her greatest expectations.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Since their first visit to the rectory, Claire and her father had made a practice of calling there twice a week to return their borrowed books and select others. Lord Oliver jokingly referred to the parsonage now as their “subscription library.” Christopher Bennett was frequently, but not always, there. The performance of his duties often took him away from home, but on the days he was there, he would sit and chat with them both. He seemed to enjoy discussing his books as much as they enjoyed reading them, and they delighted in his company.

  For both Claire and her father, the visits to the rectory were a stimulating and welcome change from their relatively uneventful lives. Living year-round in the country as they did, they had little to amuse them beyond visits with neighbours, most of whom Claire had known all her life.

  When they saw Mr. Bennett they were always together, and before long the rector came to treat Claire as an equal in their talks as she rapidly proved to be as knowledgeable as her father about the subjects in their library. They quickly became a comfortable threesome, although Claire often sat back and allowed the gentlemen to do most of the talking, especially when Lord Oliver's enthusiasm carried him away. She derived a great deal of pleasure just from seeing her father so happy, but she also enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie. Mr. Bennett treated them both much the same, except that when he looked at Claire, he always smiled as if there were something special between them, something that she found difficult to interpret.

  Neither Clair
e nor her father learned much about the rector's personal ambitions during their calls. He seemed to have thrown himself entirely into the achievement of his goals in the community, and as the Olivers learned more about what these were, it became obvious why he had little time to think of his own life. Having failed to enlist Lord Sitchville's cooperation in his scheme to begin a school, he persuaded Lord Oliver to provide a schoolroom and a cottage for the teacher. He undertook himself to pay the thirty pounds a year for her salary, and Claire promised to help purchase the materials that would be needed. The search for a teacher was begun, and Mr. Bennett was confident of finding one even though the task of teaching such rustic pupils would be a hard one.

  One of his more ambitious projects was to start a local newspaper, which the parish sadly lacked. But he could not find anyone with both the purse and the courage to begin one. Charges of seditious libel were common during these years of uneasiness, and the punishments were stiff. The rector had thoughts of beginning the newspaper himself, funding it out of his modest living. But Lord Oliver and Claire strongly urged him to abandon the idea, for they knew that Lord Sitchville would take grave offense and would not hesitate to report him to the authorities if there were anything in it even slightly uncomplimentary to the present government. And they both knew there would be.

  Mr. Bennett agreed to drop the idea for the time being, because he had many other things to occupy him, but they knew that he would resurrect it if he became frustrated in his other endeavours.

  During the week following the dinner at Garby Hall, the Olivers were spared the daily visits by the Willoughby ladies because Sophia was busily preparing for the tour of Garby church and the picnic at the rectory. The invitation list had been expanded to include the gentlemen, in response to Lord Babcock's return and his expressed interest in the affair. As the end of May approached, the allure of an outdoor entertainment increased and there were many who looked forward to the event.

  Babcock had offered to escort Claire and her mother, but Lord Oliver's inclusion in the outing allowed them to refuse gracefully. He proposed accompanying his mother instead. Consequently, it was with Lady Sitchville in tow that Babcock arrived at the old church door some minutes ahead of the Oliver party.

  Sophia Willoughby was standing outside the low stone wall of the churchyard, greeting guests with a proprietary air. She beamed with pride upon spying the new arrivals.

  “Lady Sitchville, Lord Babcock, how kind of you to join our little gathering today. You honour us,” she began obsequiously.

  This speech could not have been better composed to delight Babcock, who had such a high opinion of himself that flattery always seem to have the ring of truth. Deciding immediately that Mrs. Willoughby was a kindred spirit, he bowed and proceeded to deliver a flowery speech about the occasion, which he was sure would be properly appreciated. Before he had come to the end, however, Lydia, who had been taking a leisurely turn around the building on the arm of a friend, came into view.

  Lord Babcock saw her and stopped in mid-sentence.

  She had put on her finest day dress for the occasion, a pale blue muslin sprinkled with pink roses, with a tight, high waist. White ruching, starting on each shoulder, descended low across the bosom and circled high round the neck, then again at the cuffs and in seven rows round the hem of the skirt. The tight lacing of her youthfully plump figure gave her the appearance of voluptuousness above and below the waist. On her head was a pink straw bonnet with pale blue, silk-edged flowers and ribbons. The blue was as pale as the blue of Lydia's eyes and the pink was as pale as the colour in her fair cheeks. To Babcock, she was the picture of perfection.

  For a moment, Lady Sitchville and Mrs. Willoughby waited patiently for him to resume, supposing him to have lost his way through a speech that was becoming more intricate with every phrase. But when he did not recover, the silence became embarrassing. Sophia smiled nervously, not wishing to put herself forward, but Lady Sitchville uttered a sharp, “Babcock!"

  He started as though unaware of where he had been, then stammered an apology. He tried to take up where he had left off, but he was unable to keep his eyes from straying towards Lydia, who had reached the door. By this time, both Sophia and Lady Sitchville had discovered the cause of his peculiar behaviour. Sophia was astonished, but gratified; Lady Sitchville's reaction was less clear. She was stunned to see her beloved son behave in such a manner; she had not believed him capable of such strong emotion and was not sure that she approved of it. At the same time, she acknowledged Lydia's attractiveness and approved of her ladylike manner. Unsure of her own feelings, she was unable to react quickly enough to prevent an introduction on the spot. As a group, she, Sophia and Babcock had begun to approach the door to the church and, as they reached Lydia and her friend, an introduction was unavoidable.

  Mrs. Willoughby proudly presented her daughter, not forgetting to include Lydia's friend. Babcock bowed properly to them both, but his all-too-evident attention to Lydia was enough to cause that young lady to blush becomingly. Lady Sitchville, remembering Babcock's impending engagement to Claire, gave Lydia a distant smile, and with the help of Sophia, managed to sweep the young people apart.

  Lady Sitchville and Lord Babcock moved on to accept the rector's greetings as he detached himself from another group of guests. At the same time, the Olivers arrived. The Willoughby ladies met them at the church wall again, but it was evident to the new arrivals that Lydia was overcome by some emotion which her mother was endeavouring to ignore. This was so contrary to Sophia's usual attention to her daughter that they could not help but remark upon it, but both ladies assured them that all was well.

  Upon entering the nave, Claire observed that Babcock had already arrived with his mother, and she inwardly cringed in expectation of his usual attentions to herself in front of so intimate a gathering. Surprisingly, however, he seemed not to notice her arrival until his mother pointedly indicated Claire's presence to him. He started visibly and then advanced dutifully upon her with a pensive smile fixed on his face. Mrs. Willoughby had conscientiously kept Lydia out front with her to greet other guests.

  Soon everyone was present and the tour began, with Lady Sitchville on Mr. Bennett's arm and Claire on Babcock's. In spite of her uncomfortable situation, Claire found herself enjoying the tour, for Mr. Bennett proved to know a good deal about the building, given his short term in the parish thus far. Some of the information she knew already, having taken the trouble to learn something about her parish history, but she enjoyed hearing Mr. Bennett tell it. He had a low melodious voice that was pleasant to the ear and, in spite of its subdued nature, his enthusiasm carried through. He did not seem to be unduly proud of his own connection with the place, but he had a strong appreciation for its history. His lecture was informative without being pedantic, and consequently, even those who had attended in order to be seen rather than to learn became interested. Claire was pleased to see that Mr. Bennett's attitude towards Lady Sitchville and Lord Babcock was polite and patient, if constrained. It was impossible not to be impressed by the confidence he had in himself, which could allow him to treat his patrons with no more than the natural courtesy he would have shown to anyone else.

  The tour went on for about twenty minutes with snippets about its establishment in the twelfth century, confiscation of Church property under Henry VIII, and the Reformation. Mr. Bennett timed his lecture so as not to stretch the listening tolerance of his audience, knowing that a good number of them had little interest in the subject. Most of the ladies by this time were ready to sit down and partake of some refreshment, so Mr. Bennett and Sophia Willoughby led the party back to the rectory lawn where the servants had set out tables with food and drink.

  During the tour of the church, Lord Babcock had regained some of his sang-froid, but Claire could not help noticing that he was mildly distracted, not at all his usual attentive self. Her interest in the rector's talk kept her from seeing the surreptitious glances Babcock threw in Lydia's direction, a
nd he conducted himself perfectly on the way to the rectory, so there was nothing specific to which she could tie his behaviour. They were joined by Claire's parents on the lawn where they had seated themselves, and the gentlemen left to obtain refreshments for the ladies.

  “I declare,” said Lady Sally when the gentlemen were no longer within earshot, “I have had enough of my dear brother's wife for one day. She is so overjoyed at the success of her little party that it has gone to her head. She is handing down precepts left and right to anyone who will listen. She would have made a fine rector's wife, but thank heaven she is not this one's or we should be obliged to put up with this more often. Do you suppose she is preparing herself for the role of mama-in-law instead?” She laughed conspiratorially.