Chapter Thirteen #3
“The one I have chosen is on the parable of the Good Samaritan,” she revealed, and held her breath for him to condemn, or praise, her choice. His sudden smile eased her heart.
“An excellent subject. I am certain you will do the reading justice.”
Mary let out her breath in a long exhalation. “Thank you. Well, I had best be getting on.”
“Pray, excuse me,” Dr. Gregg said, nodding decisively and striding off with authoritative steps.
Keeping her expression impassive, Mary headed for the men’s convalescent ward. There, she found the twenty or so men either sitting on each other’s beds, or sitting on chairs placed between the beds.
“Good afternoon, miss,” Sam, the enormous orderly said, smiling so widely she could see all his yellow, rotting teeth. He looked like a bully, but he was nothing of the sort. “I’ve put yer chair in the usual spot.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Mary said, smiling at him, and then around at the men waiting for her to read to them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
“‘Afternoon, miss,” they chorused softly.
One spoke up, asking, “What’ve ye got t’read fer us today, miss?”
“Since it is Sunday, I have a sermon about the Good Samaritan for you,” Mary said, moving toward the hard chair that had been set beside a small table, the men ranged before her in a rough semi-circle.
“We done ‘ad a sermon already,” a man she did not recognize moaned.
“Shut it, you,” Sam said, pointing at the disgruntled middle-aged man half-sitting up in his cot.
The other male patients glared at the grumbler. He folded his arms and turned his head away.
This sort of thing had happened to Mary before, so she acted as though she had heard nothing. Instead, she continued. “After the sermon, I have brought some articles on exotic animals. There is one on the anaconda—”
“That’s a huge snake, isn’t it, miss?” a man on a chair challenged in a perfectly genial way.
“So it is,” Mary said, settling her reticule and the periodicals on the table. She sat, saying, “The other article is on the tarantula.”
“Miss?” a man asked.
Another man answered, saying, “It’s a big blo…uh…stinkin’ spider. I seen ‘em afore—in the West Indies.”
“Excellent,” Mary said, picking up the book of sermons. “You will be able to speak to the accuracy of the article.”
“Aye, miss,” the man said.
Mary ignored the expressions of resignation some of the men sported and began to read the sermon.
She had read it through five times to avoid stumbling over any words.
Mary did not give in to the impetus of the men for her to hurry through the sermon.
Instead, she read it at the speed she thought the subject deserved without being ponderous, putting feeling into her voice as required.
Her efforts appeared to please her listeners because they gave a sigh upon the sermon’s completion.
“Coo, miss, but ye delivers yer sermon better than the vicar,” one patient said.
“Thank you, sir,” Mary said, feeling pleasure warm her insides. She set aside the book of sermons on the table, found an unexpected cup of hot herbal tisane there and took a sip. Mmm, chamomile and ginger, sweetened with honey. Nice and soothing.
“Now, shall I read the article about the anaconda next?” she asked, glancing around the ward.
From the corner of her vision, Mary spied Dr. Gregg standing in the doorway as though he had paused to listen to her reading.
She twisted in her chair a little, meaning to ask him if he needed anything, but he turned away and left before she could speak.
Inwardly sighing, she faced her audience, opened British Scientific and Geographical Standard and found the appropriate article.
Wickham ducked into a shadow-filled doorway as Darcy and his sister passed him in the gig. Georgiana appeared animated and excited. He thought she looked more handsome than ever. Age had improved her, making her look more woman-like than she had when he attempted to lure her away into an elopement.
Having heard about Monday night’s entertainment, he thought, I wonder if Georgiana means to go to the comet viewing party?
She is not yet out, but there will not be dancing or any frivolity inappropriate to a girl of Georgiana’s age.
I am not invited, unfortunately. I would have enjoyed the look of fury on Darcy’s countenance when he saw me there.
But, alas, I have met only an attorney’s wife—the aunt of five promising sisters.
She has invited Denny and me to an at-home evening on Tuesday evening.
I am to extend the invitation to any officers who happen to be in Meryton that day.
Hmm. Darcy and Georgiana are unlikely to attend.
No doubt he would look down his nose at any entertainment offered by a mere attorney’s wife.
Even so, for me it is a toe-hold into Meryton society.
When the colonel arrives, my status will increase, and I will be exposed to the eligible young ladies of the district.
If only I could convince Georgiana to admit me back into her confidence. I must charm her again. She is still young and na?ve—not as na?ve as she used to be, but not up to snuff, either.