Chapter Four
For the next few days, Gilbert managed to avoid speaking of his schooling or non-existent plans for the future.
Fortunately, he had some assistance in this.
Due to some issues arising on the estate’s tenant farms, both Evan and Miles spent many hours away from the manor, which gave Gilbert much needed time alone.
At dinner, he regaled the family with amusing stories about his time at University, without divulging any pertinent details about his success or failure.
Then he would adroitly change the subject to some other topic, or ask Lavinia how little Dickie was doing—that was always good for a quarter hour of monologue, he had learned.
The one time his father attempted to pin him down on his future plans, Gilbert had managed to feign stomach issues and retreated to his room to take a long nap.
Gilbert realized, however, that this strategy would not last. He knew that Charlotte’s husband, Frederick, had recently traveled to another parish for an overnight visit and from this he deduced that his brother-in-law was soon to take on another flock and would therefore be in need of a curate at Clayton Parish.
Gilbert also knew that the entire family would expect him not only to take the lowly position, but to show excessive gratitude for the opportunity.
The very thought of agreeing to the job filled him with dismay.
It also increased his resentment. Miles would not have to work for his bread when he inherited the estate.
His happy future was set. Gilbert cursed his luck to be born a second son.
Nearly every day, Gilbert walked into Doddington.
He hoped to see Nancy again, as she always cheered him up, but he had seen no sign of her on three successive visits into the village.
He had even spent long hours sipping chocolate at Franny’s Tea Shop each afternoon, in hopes of her coming in to check on the business, to no avail.
Eventually, he would walk back home and hide in his bed chamber.
Gilbert knew where Nancy lived—indeed, he had been there as a child once or twice, but he felt he could not call upon Nancy without raising expectations of a romance should anyone see him, so he resolved to attempt an accidental meeting another day.
Now, as he returned from Doddington and was nearing Clayton House, Gilbert thought he heard a horse behind him. He turned to see Frederick riding towards him.
“Gilbert!” his brother-in-law called, waving his hand. “Just the person I was hoping to see.” Frederick pulled his horse up beside Gilbert and dismounted. “Walk with me to the parish, so that we may talk.”
Gilbert tried to think of some way to avoid what he knew was coming, but his mind was blank, so he merely nodded and fell into step with Frederick as they went to the parish house. After putting the horse away, the two scraped the mud from their boots and entered the back door of the cottage.
“Are you hungry or thirsty? I can ask Cook to make us up something,” Frederick said.
Still satisfied from drinking two cups of chocolate at the café, Gilbert shook his head.
May as well get it over with, he thought.
“Shall we talk in the drawing room?” If Charlotte were there, perhaps he could use her to direct the conversation away from talk of the curate position, and avoid having to reveal the truth of his failed degree.
“Let us go into my book room,” Frederick replied. “We shall have more privacy there.” He led the way, and Gilbert gloomily followed.
When they were settled, Frederick smiled broadly.
“I don’t believe we have had the chance to really discuss your time at Oxford.
I so enjoyed my classes there. My favorite tutor was Richard Jenkins, who taught us liturgy.
I declare, he was so excellent at making Bible verses come to life.
He inspired me greatly to attempt writing my own sermons, you know. ”
“He sounds most excellent. Unfortunately, Jenkins is no longer there,” Gilbert said. “A Mr. Dawson is in charge of those lectures, and a duller man I have never met. His classes were torture for me.” He saw a look of surprise flash across his brother-in-law’s face.
“Oh, yes, I was aware that Jenkins had departed, but I have heard many fine compliments about Mr. Dawson. Some praised him as even better than his predecessor. That is why I wished to hear more about him. I was expecting to hear you be all compliments towards him and, instead, you tell me you did not care for his classes.”
“I am sorry to pain you, but so it is.” Gilbert gave a small laugh.
“Well. If Dawson’s lectures are the sole purpose of our discourse, then I should be off and let you get back to work.
On this subject, it will be as best to be quiet.
I do not wish to insult the poor man any further.
” He rose from his chair, happy that the interview with Frederick might be brief.
Instead, his brother waved him to sit back down.
“That was only part of my purpose, Gilbert. I have, in fact, some excellent news for you. As you are aware, curate positions are very difficult to come by. I declare, so many young men are taking orders, the competition is most fierce.” He paused, clearly expecting a reply.
Gilbert swallowed and nodded. “Oh. Yes, I suppose,” he finally said. “There were many students in my classes who said they intended to enter the church, to be sure.”
“Well, I think I may safely assure you that you will not struggle to find a living as others might. For I am happy to share that I am taking on a second parish in Brewster, some twenty miles north of us. And two Sundays a month, I shall be giving sermons there, so…” He paused again, holding his hands out to Gilbert, expecting him to anticipate the happy news and to display his eagerness.
When his brother-in-law sat silent, he dropped his hands and continued, “Well, you see—I am now in need of a curate here and I should very much like to offer the position to you, Gilbert. Now, what have you to say to that?” He leaned back in his chair, a very satisfied look on his face.
Gilbert’s heart sank when he heard the news.
He knew he must at least pretend to act as if he were quite thrilled.
He forced a smile. “Oh, Frederick, how… how marvelous for you—another parish. Congratulations. Why, I think it will not be long before you rise to bishop at the rate of your success and ambition.”
Frederick laughed. “Yes, I was pleased to get this opportunity, but it is not only I who shall benefit. Did you not hear me say I wish to bring you on as my curate?”
“I did. Indeed… I did,” Gilbert replied in a dull voice. His gaze fell to his hands, clenched tightly in his lap.
“Well—you do not sound eager or in the least bit pleased. Are you not happy that you can begin your career in the church right here in the very same parish you grew up in? You will be close to friends and family, after all. I should think you would be dancing for joy.” Frederick studied him, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Oh, no, I am quite… happy at this news, Frederick. Yes, quite happy, I assure you,” Gilbert tried to muster some enthusiasm in his tone. “I suppose the shock of it…” His voice trailed off.
“Yes, well, it can all be arranged quite swiftly. I will need your letter of commendation from Oxford vouching for your fitness for ordination. You brought one with you from school after your final exams, did you not?”
“In truth, I completely forgot to do that, Frederick, so happy was I to… conclude my classes,” Gilbert said, thinking that was one way to say he left school without admitting he had failed to obtain his standard honors degree. Now what was he do to?
Frederick waved a hand airily. “Well, I can comprehend how the happiness of completing your education might have made you forget such details as your letter of commendation. But you must act swiftly to rectify this oversight. Go home and write at once to get the required paper, for without it, I cannot go to the bishop to set up your examination. Once you have that in hand, and because you have a position already waiting, I have little doubt the bishop will readily approve your fitness. You can become my curate and will soon sermonize from the Clayton Parish pulpit. I warrant that will be a thrill for you, eh?”
A small mantel clock chimed three times.
“Indeed, it will be. Oh, I must depart,” Gilbert said, rising.
“I promised… uh… promised Lavinia I would spend time with my nephew this afternoon. She is determined to make me into the most doting of uncles. I shall see you at our family dinner this evening, correct? Cousin Selina and Uncle Hugh are coming, you know.”
“Yes, Charlotte and I look forward to it.” He grinned. “Though I feel I should warn you of something my dear wife told me.”
“Oh?” Gilbert felt his stomach clench. What now? He saw Frederick roll his eyes.
“Charlotte says that Lavinia is hoping to foster a match between you and your cousin,” Frederick said.
“I told her it was ludicrous to imagine such a thing. Not that Selina is not a sweet and charming girl, but at seventeen, she is too young to consider any match at this time, least of all with a newly ordained curate who will have but forty pounds a year to his name. Take some friendly advice from me and do not allow yourself to be swayed by Lavinia’s direction.
You must settle well into your career before taking on the burden of a wife and children, eh?
” He laughed heartily as he rose to show Gilbert out.
Gilbert laughed weakly as they moved into the entry hall. “Indeed, you are correct. Allow me to assure you that such thoughts have not entered my mind at present. There will be no romance for me, do not worry.” He nodded and swiftly exited the cottage.
As he passed through the alley to Clayton House, Gilbert’s mood was low. His future appeared to be falling into place even as he knew it to be utterly the wrong path for him.
How will my family react when they hear the unhappy news that I do not have an honors degree, much less a letter of commendation from Oxford? How long do I have before the truth comes out? Can I come up with a better plan to present to them all before it does?