Chapter 22
Another sennight passed, and Lord Devon still had not spoken with Mr. Clifford. He’d mulled over everything Kathryn, Easton, Fletcher, and his lovely wife had said about Mr. Clifford, but he still wasn’t sure he could approve of the marriage. It just wasn’t done.
An earl’s daughter and a commoner?
Preposterous.
“My dear, are you coming to services this morning?” Lady Devon asked as she pulled on her gloves.
“Not today,” Lord Devon said.
Lady Devon kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later, my dear.”
After everyone except Kathryn and him had left for Sunday services, Lord Devon went in search of the butler. He found him in the dining room. “Jones.”
The butler turned. “Yes, my lord. Do you need assistance?”
“Yes. Have someone fetch Mr. Clifford and bring him to Fletcher’s study.”
“Right away, my lord,” Jones said.
It didn’t take long before there was a knock on the study door.
“Come,” he said.
Mr. Clifford walked in and bowed to the earl. “You wanted to see me, Lord Devon?”
Lord Devon did not invite Clifford to sit down but instead looked hard at him. So this was the man his daughter was in love with? He still wasn’t sure whether he’d allow the marriage to go forward. It all depended on the answers he received today.
“My daughter informs me she’s in love and wishes to marry you.”
“My lord, I love Lady Kathryn with all my heart, and if you consent to let us marry, I will do everything within my power to make sure she has a happy and fulfilling life.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“My top priority will be to support whatever she would like to do, be it helping others with their garden design or any other charity work she’d like to do. I will not restrict any of her activities.”
“I see, and how will you do that without a large amount of coin? I assume you are not a wealthy man,” Lord Devon said.
“No, my lord, you are correct, but I’m not destitute either. I have savings from the stipend I receive from the Faulkner baronetcy that she may use. Lord Fletcher has granted me the use of a cottage on his property, so we would have a lovely home to reside in.”
“What about her dowry? What do you propose to do with that?”
“My lord, I don’t propose to do anything with it. I don’t want to marry Lady Kathryn because she has a dowry. I want to marry her because she makes me complete.”
Lord Devon steepled his fingers. “Do you know how substantial her dowry is?”
Clifford shook his head. “I do not.”
“Hmm… Mr. Clifford, you have surprised me, and I can see that you truly love my daughter for the wonderful person she is.”
“She’s more than wonderful, my lord. She’s magnificent.”
“If I grant my permission for you to marry, I want assurances that you will not spend her dowry on foolish things.”
“I understand your concern. I’m not prone to extravagances, my lord. I prefer a simpler life, but I want Lady Kathryn to have access to the funds if she needs it or wants to fund charity projects.”
“I see. You are dismissed.”
“Of course, my lord. Thank you for seeing me.”
Kathryn had been pacing the hallway outside the study, hoping against all hope that the meeting between Sam and her father was going well. She heard no shouting, just a low murmur of voices as the minutes ticked by.
When the door finally opened and Sam walked out, she saw nothing in his expression to indicate how the meeting had gone.
“Your father wishes to speak with you,” he said.
“Did it go well?” she asked.
Sam shrugged and squeezed her hand. “Go on in. He’s waiting.”
Kathryn took a deep breath and walked into the study. Her father was sitting behind the large desk with a faraway look on his face.
“Papa, you wished to speak with me?”
He turned to look at her. “Kathryn, have a seat.”
Kathryn sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Her father’s face was passive, and she had no idea what his decision might be. No wonder Sam could tell her nothing.
“I’ve talked with your Mr. Clifford.”
“And?”
“He seems like a solid sort.”
“Oh, he is, Papa. He truly is a good and honorable man.”
“Did you know he will allow you to have full access to your dowry to spend it on projects you’d like to take on?”
“No, I did not know that.”
“Well, he informed me that was what he wanted.”
“He did?”
Lord Devon nodded. “Yes, he did. And that, my dear daughter, was an important factor.”
Kathryn sat very still, holding her breath, waiting for her father’s decision.
“I will not delay my answer any longer. You may marry. I will have the marriage contracts drawn up to ensure you have legal access to your dowry. I want the banns read here in Reading. There will be no announcement in the London newspapers, there will be no morning calls, and there will be no engagement ball. Those are my conditions.”
Kathryn leapt out of her seat and ran around the desk to hug her father. “Oh, Papa, thank you so very much. I don’t care about anything concerning the ton. I will be very happy living here or wherever else we decide to move to.”
“Well, I do expect you to visit sometime,” Devon said, his lips curving up in a little smile. “All you need to do is send a note, and I’ll send the funds and the carriage for your use.”
Happy tears rolled down Kathryn’s face. “Thank you, Papa.”
When Kathryn exited the study, her face was wet with tears, and she saw Sam’s shoulders sag when he saw her. She rushed into his arms. “My darling, he said yes!”
“He did? But why are you crying, my love?”
“They are happy tears indeed. Papa will have the marriage contract drawn up, and the first banns can be read at next Sunday’s services. His only condition is that there will be no announcement in the London papers, nor will he host a ball in our honor.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“So we are truly engaged with your father’s permission?”
Kathryn nodded before kissing Sam. “Yes, my darling, and in three weeks, we shall never be parted again.”
He swung her around. “I’ve never been so happy.”
“Neither have I. Will you kiss me again?”
“My pleasure,” he said, kissing her with all the pent-up passion he felt.
A fortnight later, a knock on the vicarage door interrupted Peter while he was looking over the expense ledger.
He wasn’t expecting anyone and had purposely not made any appointments.
It was the day before his wedding, and he wanted to get everything in order for Grace’s arrival tomorrow after the wedding breakfast.
Her trunks had been delivered earlier in the day, and he could hardly believe he’d be holding his beloved in his arms tomorrow and would never have to let her go. Grace made his life perfect. He could ask for nothing more.
He walked to the door and was surprised to see a footman in the Berkeley livery standing on the doorstep. “Vicar, I was told to put this in your hands right away.”
Peter tore open the seal and read the note.
Mr. Wallings,
My father has taken a turn for the worse. It would give him great comfort to have you visit.
Dudley
“Let me gather my prayer book, and I shall be with you at once.”
The footman nodded and went to stand by the carriage.
He opened the carriage door when Peter walked out of the vicarage.
Peter climbed into the back. This wasn’t how he had expected to spend his last day as a bachelor, but his duties to administer to those in his parish knew no restrictions.
He’d seen Lord Berkeley a few days earlier and noticed that he seemed more confused than ever.
The poor man was so addled that he hadn’t recognized him, although he had seen comforted when Peter recited a few prayers.
The driver whipped the reins against the horses’ rump to get them moving and set a fast pace to Berkeley Manor.
The front door was open when they pulled up. Dudley was waiting for him.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Mr. Wallings,” he said.
“Of course. How is your father?”
“The doctor says he won’t last very much longer.”
“What happened? He didn’t appear ill the last time I was here.”
“The fever came on him suddenly the day before yesterday, and he’s only gotten weaker since. The doctor has said there’s nothing more he can do for him.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. Please take me to him so I may attend him.”
Dudley led Peter up the stairs to the earl’s bedchamber.
The doctor looked up when they walked in. “I’m afraid there is no change, my lord.”
“The vicar has come to see him.”
“Of course. I’ll wait outside,” the doctor said.
Peter noticed the drapes were closed, and when he looked at the bed, the earl seemed to be drowning in a sea of pillows. His eyes were closed, and his face was flushed.
Dudley went to a bowl on the nightstand, wrung out a cloth, and placed it on his father’s forehead. “The doctor has given me laudanum to keep him as comfortable as possible.”
Peter took the chair by the bed where Dudley had evidently been keeping vigil and opened his prayer book.
He recited several prayers, emphasizing God’s steadfast love, eternal life, and redemption through Christ, then read a few passages from the Bible and ended with the prayer, “Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant Hugh Walker.”
When Peter finished, Berkeley began to cough, and Peter tried to help him sit up a little, but to no avail. A vicious sneezing fit took hold of him, sending a rain of spittle across Peter’s face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Wallings,” Dudley said, handing him a drying cloth.
“There’s no need to apologize. I only wish he weren’t suffering so,” Peter said, wiping his face.
“Thank you, Vicar. My father’s health has been failing for some time now, and I hope that he will finally find some peace soon.”
Once the earl’s breathing became a little easier, Peter thought about the earl’s life.
He’d been denied being a life with his love due to a cruel twist of fate, and Peter wondered if Lady Berkeley had ever known of her husband’s love for Mary Parker.
There was no way to know, and ultimately, it was no one’s business except the earl and his wife.
This was one of his duties as a vicar that tugged at his heartstrings.
He hated to see anyone suffering and could only pray that Lord Berkeley would find a peaceful end to his torment.
He stayed the night, praying and keeping vigil over the sick earl.
As he sat beside Lord Berkeley, he hoped that his presence would provide some comfort.
When Lord Berkeley breathed his last, Peter gave Lord Dudley his condolences before stumbling back into his house in the early morning hours. He fell into bed, exhausted but with the promise of a bright tomorrow in front of him.