Chapter Seventeen
After returning to Brentwood and putting away his art supplies, Frederick went looking for his brother. He found him in the dining room, finishing his breakfast.
“Good morning, Robert. I apologize for leaving you on your own for breakfast—I went for a long ramble early and quite lost track of time.” Frederick went to the sideboard and piled food on a plate.
His brother grinned. “Not to worry, Frederick. I had my newspaper at least to keep me company. Perhaps I’ll go out for a ride later and enjoy the fresh air as you have. Tell me, what do you have planned for today?”
“I was going to continue to work on my sermon for this Sunday.” He returned to the table and sat, nodding for the butler to serve him coffee. “I am quite nervous about my first outing in the pulpit, you know. I should hate for word to get to Mr. Peabody that my delivery was less than its best.”
Robert was absorbed in his paper again and merely replied with a mumbled, “Naturally.”
Frederick waited a moment, then picked up his fork, frowning slightly because his brother seemed to show so little interest in this important landmark in his career. After a few bites, he tried again.
“Would you be interested to know the subject of my sermon? I do not wish to brag, but I think it rather a good one.”
Robert lifted his head out of the financial section and stared at his sibling. His expression, it seemed to Frederick, was one of vague surprise that his brother was still there.
“Oh, uh…yes, should you care to tell me, I am most willing to hear it.” Robert folded his paper and gave Frederick his full attention. “What will you preach on?”
“Since it is my first sermon, I thought to go back to the very beginning of our Bible—Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 1.”
“In the beginning, God created the Heaven and the Earth,” recited Robert, in a mock pious voice. He chuckled. “It is good you did not pick some obscure verse to start out on. I think we all know that much of the Bible, at least.”
“Yes, but what I wish to speak on is that a belief in the creation of the universe out of nothing is not merely a wondrous account of its origin, but that it is truly compatible with our belief in a personal and just God,” Frederick said eagerly.
“He created this world for man. And, naturally, that concept leads to belief in our Heavenly Father’s continuous Providence for us.
Then, in turn, that Providence, considering the depth of man’s moral misery, clearly suggests redemption for us all.
So, you see, I hope to show the parishioners that from the very start of our holy book, there is a message of love and hope set down for us.
” He sat back, proudly, only to recognize a look of bored distraction in his brother’s eyes. Had he even been listening?
Robert wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin down as he rose from the table.
“Sounds like an excellent sermon, Freddy—I look forward to it. Now, pray, excuse me. I have some work to do.”
“Actually,” Frederick said quickly, rising as well, “I have another issue to discuss with you—quite an important one, too. May we speak together in your study?”
Robert nodded, and the two proceeded to the library where they settled into leather chairs set by the fireplace. A blaze to take the morning chill off the room crackled in the hearth. Frederick glanced up at the empty spot above the mantel where the shepherdess painting had hung.
“I still am not accustomed to the little shepherd girl not being there,” he said.
“Is that what you wish to discuss?” Robert asked a bit sharply. “I thought I made myself quite plain as to my reasons for selling it.”
“No, no—that is not my topic. Be assured I did not mean to be critical of your decision.” Frederick took a deep breath.
“What I wanted to discuss is this—you see, I realize I am just a curate—and quite a green one at that, but I was hoping to persuade you to increase my salary a bit above the thirty-seven pounds I was told to expect.”
Robert frowned. “Mr. Peabody is in charge of that; he pays you out of his own salary, which comes from his glebe lands and tithes. The amount is entirely up to him. In addition, you are already getting more than the average curate. Thirty-five pounds is standard, I am sure you know. I think he is giving you more because you are my brother, and he does not wish to appear stingy before me.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, of course. But, I was hoping you might be willing to supplement my wages from the estate’s accounts.
You see—” Frederick broke off a moment and ran his tongue over his lips, which suddenly seemed dry.
He could hardly believe he was going to speak this confession aloud.
“—You see, I am hoping to soon make my intentions known to a certain young lady in the county, and I cannot hope to be accepted by her with my current poor prospects. Even though she and I may both live here in Brentwood after we wed—which would save me considerable money—I should like to have more to offer her.”
He studied Robert, noting an expression of disbelief on his brother’s face.
“I am all astonishment, Frederick,” Robert blurted.
“That is…at four and twenty, you are certainly old enough to consider matrimony, but permit me to discourage you from approaching any young lady at this time, no matter how alluring her charms may be. You are just now ordained and starting out in your very first position. Greater things surely await, but you should get settled in your routine at Brentwood Parish before plunging into marriage. It seems to me that whomever this young lady may be, she certainly would be willing to wait a year or so should your affection be sincerely returned.” He paused, considering.
“Unless she has a fortune to bring into the marriage—is that the case?”
Frederick shook his head. “No, I do not believe so. She comes from a good family, and is the daughter of a gentleman. But, I would not marry for riches. In fact, I am rather opposed to the whole idea of a dowry. It is so unseemly that a man must seem to be bribed to take on a lady, do not you agree?”
Robert laughed. “On the contrary, a healthy dowry has been the making of many a great alliance between families. Why, our own mother brought three thousand pounds into marriage with her even though our father had no need of it—theirs was a match of the hearts as well. But, to return to my larger point—I think you should wait a while before taking such a significant step. You have not declared yourself to this young lady yet, have you? Please, tell me you have not.”
Frederick shook his head vehemently. “Oh, no, be not concerned over that. I wish to get to know her much better. But, based on our few encounters, I do think she would be inclined to care for me as well. We seem quite compatible. I would just wish to have a slightly better income to offer along with my affections.” He saw a look of relief flash across Robert’s face.
“Good. Then, should she be inclined toward you, she will not be tempted by another and in a year or so, you may propose an understanding between the two of you. By then, with more experience under your belt, and, who knows—you may have an offer of a parish of your own. But, if not, then at least I am certain I could see my way to supplementing your wages.” He shrugged.
“That is the best I can promise at this time.”
Frederick nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you, Robert. I just—well, I have not ever met anyone who seemed as lovely and amiable to me as this particular lady does. To me, she is everything I should wish for in a wife. But, you are correct, of course. We do not know each other that well. It is too soon to confess my admiration for her.”
“Exactly,” Robert agreed. “Should the match be true, it will grow as it may, and easily survive a year or so before we have to read the banns out in church.” He smiled warmly and gestured to his desk. “Now, if you will excuse me, Freddy, I have much to do.”
Frederick rose. “Yes, of course. I must get to work on my sermon as well. Thank you, Robert.” He nodded and exited the library.
*
Robert picked up some letters piled on his desk, hoping they contained more than demands for money.
It occurred to him that he was so adamant in advising Frederick to wait before declaring himself that he had failed to ask who the young lady in question was.
Oh, well. It was not likely to be anyone he knew.
Probably some girl he met at the last assembly. I am glad he did not fight me on increasing his salary. With all my debts, that is the last thing I can afford just now. And, I must concentrate on wooing the wealthy Miss Kendall—my future wife and salvation of Brentwood.
That settled, Robert put his brother’s request out of his mind and continued to deal with his correspondence.