Mariel (18 page)

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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

BOOK: Mariel
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Her eyes sought the shadows of his as he moved away from her slightly. He kept his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the parsonage. It seemed exactly right that her head should rest on him while they walked.

An anxious Mrs. Reed met them at the door. Her smile seemed broader than usual when she saw them walking so close. Although she had not thought the board would daunt either of these two, she worried the controversy would sour their love.

“Tea and biscuits in the study,” she announced, as if it was a royal command.

“I cannot stay long.” Mariel's voice was low with regret.

“Long enough for tea surely,” returned the housekeeper before she bustled to the kitchen.

Ian chuckled. “You cannot disobey such an edict.” He walked into the crowded room with her. Taking off his coat, he tossed it on the back of the settee. He started to speak, then scowled. “Forgive me a moment, Mariel. I forgot the horse and buggy by the church. Let me take care of them, then I will be right back. Why don't you read my sermon for this week? I'd like to hear you comments.”

“Is that why you want me to stay? To critique your latest masterpiece?”

Tugging her into his arms, he bent to whisper in her ear. “Shall we use that as an excuse to satisfy everyone's curiosity? I want you for this.” His mouth captured hers with a passion she had never known. The kiss was as swift as it was fiery. Watching Mariel put her fingers to her lips in wonder, he chuckled. “I will be back in a moment.”

She nodded, astonished by the reaction that had detonated within her at his actions. More, her heart screamed. She wanted to feel the glory of this desire again.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the pages on the desk. Sitting on the nearest chair, she began to read. As with the others she had read, Ian had found a way to reach directly to the heart of the lesson he wanted to teach. He did not preach down to his parishioners as Reverend Tanner had. His phrases lilted across the page, leading his congregation with him as he explored the problems they faced.

She smiled as she restacked the handwritten pages and placed them back on the desk. Although he could not have known when he started composing this, many would suspect he spoke directly of the church board when he preached about the moneychangers using the temple for their own purposes. It was sure to cause some comment.

Mariel crossed the room to pick the frock coat up from the settee. It would wrinkle unless she hung it in the closet. She was brushing off the fine layer of dust when something crackled under her hand. From the pocket she pulled an envelope. She placed it on the desk.

“Why don't you read it?”

She turned to see Ian standing in the doorway. He held the tea tray. With a smile, she said, “I think you have caught me too many times reading your private works.” She hung the coat on its peg and closed the door.

Crossing the room, Ian picked up the envelope and handed it to her. “Read it.”

She glanced at him to see a queer smile on his lips. Lifting the flap of the envelope, she unfolded the slip of paper. Her eyes widened as she read the first few sentences. “Ian, this is your resignation!”

“Yes.”

Again her eyes were caught by the strong intensity in his. She bent to finish reading the letter, but could not complete it, as her eyes blurred with tears. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she looked up into his face.

“You would have done this for me?” she whispered. “But, Ian, you love this church. You love the work you are doing here.”

He drew her into his arms. “I love all that, but I love you, too, Mariel.”

With a gasp, she tried to avoid his mouth descending toward hers. He captured her lips, telling her with his kiss what he had with his words. She wanted to escape, but the tantalizing caress of his mouth held her prisoner more than his embrace. Only when he felt her breath mixing rapidly with his did he relinquish her.

“I love you, Mariel. Whether you love me or not is not important now.” He smiled as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her pale face. “I know better than to hurry you, pretty one. I just wanted to let you know what is in my heart.”

“I know,” she said nearly silently. “I know, Ian.” She whirled and dropped to the settee. “I know because I love you, too.” There was no relief in speaking finally the words that had been burning on her lips.

He sat next to her and took her fingers in his. His other hand brought her downcast face up to look at him. “If you love me, Mariel, then why are you so sad? I feel as if I should paint the sky with my happiness.”

“Happiness? What is that?” She sighed when she saw the joy fade from his eyes. She did not want him to share her misery. “I am sorry, Ian. You saw what it was like tonight. The people of Foxbridge care deeply for you. They do not want to see you become mixed up with me.”

“Why? I don't understand.” He stroked her downy cheek. “They love you also, or at least I thought they did.”

She shook her head. “Why doesn't matter. What I worry about is what would happen if you told the rest of the shire what you have just told me that I worry about. I think I should go home.”

“Mariel?” he asked as she rose.

“I will see you Friday afternoon.”

Softly, he said, “I will be at the closing activities on the last day of school. I am sure to see you and Rosie there.” He rose to where she clumsily was trying to tie the ribbons of her cape. Taking them from her, he quickly made a bow. Framing her face with his broad hands, he added, “Mariel, I cannot pretend to understand why you feel this way. Love should make you delirious with joy.”

“It should, shouldn't it?” She tried to smile, but failed. “Good night, Ian.”

“Good night, my love.” When he saw the flicker of happiness in her eyes, he bent and kissed her lightly. He watched as she ran from the room. The sound of the door closing behind her urged him to go to the window.

Even as he was sweeping aside the curtains, the hum of the electric automobile could be heard through the glass. Twin lights marked the passage of the vehicle as she turned it toward the shore road.

He dropped to his favorite chair as he tried to puzzle why Mariel loved him, but fought that feeling, which could bring them only joy. It was only another puzzle he could not solve centering around the huge house on the cliffs.

Mrs. Parnell held out the piece of paper. Mariel took it and smiled. “This is it?”

“This is it. File that with the court to begin proceedings to adopt Rosie. I trust the Wythes have a barrister.”

She nodded. “Yes, we have always done business with Mallory and Sons of London.”

“Send this to them. They will know what to do with it.” She hesitated a moment, then said, “Lady Mariel, have you written to Lord Foxbridge about your plans to adopt Rosie?”

“Yes.” She tucked the page carefully into her bag.

“And?”

“I haven't heard from him.” She smiled with the joy she could not hide as she reassured the orphanage director, “Don't worry. Uncle Wilford will not be upset by this. He has been concerned about me living alone. It is a topic he mentions with frightful frequency in his letters.”

Mrs. Parnell said softly, “Perhaps he meant a husband, not a child. You have understood why there has been so much ado about this adoption? Not every orphan is advanced so quickly in wealth and position as to become the child of the heir to the Wythe fortune.”

“I have not been obtuse to the envy.” She sighed. “If just one of those who hate Rosie for this would think about the other side of the coin, they would know that she is accepting more than just the promise of money along with the Wythe name.” Standing, she offered Mrs. Parnell her hand. “Thank you for all you have done for us.”

“It has been my pleasure.”

Opening the door, Mariel called softly. Rosie burst into the room. As usual, her stockings were awry and her shoes misbuttoned, but her snaggletoothed grin brightened the office. Until Mariel was sure of the outcome of the directors' meeting, she had not wanted Rosie to hear the news.

Mariel admitted to herself now how deeply worried she had been. Mr. knowles was not the only one who had been determined to keep this from proceeding. Many had shown the jealous outrage Mrs. Parnell discussed. She had feared that one of them might come to the board with a falsified deposition to keep her from being granted custody of the child. If she had announced she would keep Rosie simply as her ward, there would have been less trouble. She wanted to give the little girl more than that. She wanted to give her what Mariel had lost so many years ago. A family to love and comfort her.

Rosie did not wait to hear the news. She could see the good tidings on Mrs. Parnell's smiling face. With a cry of joy, she wrapped her arms around Mariel's waist and hugged her.

Tears distorted the orphanage director's vision as she watched Lady Mariel bend to place a loving kiss on the unruly curls. It told her how right she had been to urge the board to allow this adoption. When the two walked from the room hand in hand, she smiled at her piles of paperwork. If all problems could be solved as satisfactorily as this one, her job would be a delight.

As they walked down the steps of the old house, Mariel said, “I promised Ian I would take him to visit Reverend Tanner today. Would you like to drive with us?”

“In the automobile?”

“Assuredly.” She smiled. Rosie had not lost her thrill of the automobile. “It will be crowded with three of us.”

“I don't mind. Ian will let me sit on his lap if I promise not to tickle him.”

“Then let's go. We don't want to be late.”

Mariel kept her thoughts to herself. In the days since the picnic, Rosie had thrown aside all her jealousy and had welcomed Ian into her life with a vengeance. She enjoyed teasing him. Slowly Mariel was beginning to believe her dreams could be coming true. She began to sing as she turned the automobile toward the gate. Being with the two she loved made even a dull errand something to anticipate.

Chapter Nine

Mariel tossed the ball high into the air and listened as Rosie squealed, running to catch it before Muffin could snatch it away. She laughed when the little girl slipped on a patch of the vividly green grass. Rolling with the dog, Rosie crowed with happiness as Muffin lapped her face enthusiastically. She bounced to her feet with the ball in her hands. Ignoring the stain on her white stockings, she flung the black orb wildly toward Mariel.

Trying to guess where it might land, Mariel raced across the lawn. She held her sports skirt high so she would not fall as the child had. She heard Muffin bark, but could not turn to see who was arriving. Her full concentration was on the ball. When she leapt forward to snag the ball, she heard cheers. Spinning, she smiled.

“Ian! I didn't hear your buggy.” She hurried to where he stood by the carriage.

Her eyes took in his appearance as she neared. Forsaking his clerical collar today, he wore a normal stock. His dark walking suit flattered his slim form. With his black top hat and ivory decorated cane, he looked every inch the role of the country gentleman on an outing.

He took her hands and bent forward to kiss her quickly. Before Rosie and the residents of the Cloister, she would allow nothing else. With a smile, he ordered, “You should listen to Muffin. She greeted me.”

Putting her hand on the dog's silken head, she teased its full ears. “Muffin is not the most reliable watchdog. She barks at the geese on the pond as well as at guests.”

“I'll try not to take that personally.” When she grinned at him, he ordered, “Change into something for a ride, my love. Both you and Rosie.”

“Where are we going?” demanded the child as she threw her arms around his leg.

“It's a secret, Petunia,” he teased. “Hurry. The quicker you are ready, the quicker we will be there.”

As the child sped toward the Cloister, Mariel asked, “What should we wear?”

He laughed. “No clues, even if you are trying to be a bit more subtle than Rosie. Wear what you would to go on a picnic.” He gave her a gentle shove away from him. “Go, or I will take only Rosie with me. Then you will die of curiosity before we return.”

“At least walk me to the house.” She held out her hand.

“Gladly.” Leaving the carriage in the middle of the road, he entwined his fingers with hers. “How is your shoulder?” he asked in a more serious tone.

“Fine. It has not been aching for several days now.” She dimpled as she said mischievously, “With the presentation on the textbooks for the school board and the parents coming up next week, I need to be ready to weather any storm.”

He looked up at the unblinking eyes of the Cloister. The sun shone like molten gold on the glass. With a smile, he waved to Rosie, who peeked from the upper foyer to urge Mariel to hurry. Softly, he asked, “Do you expect trouble?”

“From the parents, no. From the school board, of course. It is nothing I cannot handle. We
will
have new books when the school opens next term.”

“I don't think anyone doubts that.” He smiled at her grimace of disagreement. “All right, perhaps Mr. Knowles.”

“And Mr. Gratton, Mr. Albion, and Mr. Stadley.”

“That's the total of the school board. You still expect to pass this measure?”

Devilishly, she nodded. “Of course.” She thanked Dodsley when he held the door open for them. Leaving the two men talking, she rushed up the stairs.

From her closet, she selected a pink tulle blouse accented with black veiling and trimmed along the front with penny-sized sequins. The black taffeta skirt had seven rows of pink braid near the hem. With her patent-leather-toed button-up shoes and her favorite straw hat with its black bow, she felt ready for any activity Ian had planned.

Rosie was waiting impatiently with Phipps in the hall. The gray-haired woman was adjusting the ribbon at the hip of the dropped-waist dress. Thick cotton shirring created a vee along the front of the green frock. Rosie pulled at her drooping stockings while Mariel glanced quickly to be sure all the buttons were secured on her shoes. Forsaking a hat, which never would stay in place on the little girl's head, bows clung precariously to her braids.

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