Page 29 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

“Well enough. My younger brother wishes to start at Oxford soon.” He sighed and fiddled with the hat in his hands. Robert Ellsworth was a steady gentleman, his family in reduced circumstances. He was the second son, which meant he had a decent education but no property of his own.

“That would be exciting.” Daisy looked back at a table near where they stood. It was unoccupied. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Ellsworth?”

“Oh. I beg your pardon. I should have offered to get you a chair.” He turned and helped her into a seat at the table, then sat across from her. “I am afraid I am rather preoccupied. You see, I rode here today to the apothecary. My father hasn’t felt well of late.” Mr. Ellsworth gave her a tight-lipped smile.

Daisy well knew the rumors surrounding his father’s health. Mr. Ellsworth’s father had been poorly for some time. The old gentleman had three sons, and as they’d lost their mother young they were devoted to their father. The eldest ran the estate, though there was no longer much to it, and Mr. Robert Ellsworth shifted about as best he could. The youngest son possessed a studious nature and dreamt of the life of a bachelor academic.

“I am very sorry to hear he is unwell. I will tell my father. He will wish to visit.” She knew all too well how difficult it was to watch a parent struggle with ill health. Her mother had been sick for some time before passing away. “Is there anything I might do to assist your family, Mr. Ellsworth?”

He shook his head and tapped his fingers against the tabletop. “I am afraid not, Miss Ames. Unless you can find me a position in the village that will assist with my family’s situation.” He grimaced. “Forgive me. I ought not to burden you.”

“I am the vicar’s daughter,” she said, leaning slightly across the table. “Who better to speak to, besides the vicar himself? I will speak to him on your behalf, and I will not share your business with others. You are looking for a position of employment?”

Mr. Ellsworth tapped his fingers again. “I am. But this is a small village, a humble neighborhood. There will not be a place for me that someone’s brother or uncle or nephew will not hear of first.” He looked to the window again. “Blast the rain.”

She smiled at his mild curse and cast her eyes about the room again, looking for another topic of conversation.

Two men were coming down the steps from the second floor, and she sat taller when she recognized one of them as Harry. Mr. Devon. Blast. It was difficult to think of him as Mr. Devon when every time she saw him they committed some sort of social impropriety.

Harry appeared every bit as handsome and charming as usual, dressed well with hair that looked to have been carefully tousled. His expression was certainly earnest as he spoke to the other man, who must be at least twice Harry’s age. The stranger wasn’t dressed as finely either, though he appeared respectable.

His solicitor, Daisy remembered. Though she couldn’t recall the man’s name. When they came to the bottom of the stairs, the two shook hands and the solicitor turned and went back up the steps. Harry turned to the door, but stopped when his eyes met hers.

An infectious grin spread across his face and she found herself answering it with a smile and a wave, almost without thought. He came directly toward her, then his eyes fell to Mr. Ellsworth and Harry froze a moment.

Daisy supposed he wouldn’t remember meeting the man at the ball, even though he’d practically run over Mr. Ellsworth and his dance partner.

She stood to make the introductions again, and Harry took the final steps to the table as Mr. Ellsworth stood politely.

“Mr. Devon, it is good to see you this afternoon. You remember Mr. Ellsworth, from the assembly ball? Will you join us for a moment? We are waiting out the rain.” Daisy gestured to an empty chair at the table. Harry’s conversation, while at times unusual, was at least always diverting. Truthfully, Daisy enjoyed his company.

“I do not wish to intrude.” Harry looked from her to Mr. Ellsworth again.

“Do, please, Mr. Devon.” Mr. Ellsworth bowed before retaking his seat. “I have yet to speak with you since your return, which is a shame.” He turned to Daisy. “After meeting him again at the ball, I recalled a time from our childhood when we went fishing together.”

Harry spoke slowly, as though the memory came upon him in that very moment. “Even though we were mortal enemies,” Harry added, sitting down slowly. “Yes. I recall now. I was a Harrow lad, and Ellsworth was Eaton.”

“I think we fished together more out of a desire to best each other than anything.” Mr. Ellsworth sat back, amusement lighting his eyes. “But occasionally we forgot ourselves, and the rivalry, to compare bait and stories about school.”

“That is true.” Harry seemed to relax, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Daisy looked between the gentlemen with some interest. They had all grown up near one another, yet she had never known Mr. Ellsworth and Harry had spent time together. Of course, being a girl meant she didn’t spend much time in any boy’s company.

“What brings you back to the neighborhood?” Mr. Ellsworth asked. “Rumor has it both that you have come to settle down or come to sell the estate for a finer one north of London.”

Harry chuckled. “The rumors are more interesting than the truth. I have been trying to take stock of my estate and holdings in order to actually make a decision.” Yet the way his eyes slid to the side as he spoke made Daisy raise her eyebrows.

“Ah. Mr. Keyes still keeping the books for your estate?” Mr. Ellsworth raised his eyebrows a touch skeptically. “If you will excuse me for saying so, Mr. Devon, I have always been less than impressed with his business practices. There are not many with a kind word to say about him.”

Daisy gulped and tried to ascertain if this offended Harry, wondering if she ought to say something, to divert the conversation.

Sighing deeply, Harry turned to face her. She saw a sort of pained acceptance in his expression rather than any kind of upset. “I haven’t much to say of the man’s charitable nature. If he has one. I wish I had a steward with all the intelligence of Mr. Keyes and more heart.”

Mr. Ellsworth nodded as though such a desire made perfect sense to him. Daisy looked between the men somewhat incredulously. Could they not see the solution to both their difficulties lay in each other? Mr. Ellsworth said nothing of his search for employment. Perhaps he only though it presumptuous to say anything, given his lack of personal connection to Harry. It would be the very height of impropriety for her to enter into a discourse of business with them, yet perhaps—like the Biblical queen she was named for—she was sitting between them in order to facilitate this very thing.

“Why not ask Mr. Ellsworth if he would take the position?” she said at last, steeling herself against a look of rebuke from one or the other of the gentlemen. “As a local man, he understands the neighborhood and its inhabitants, and I believe his Oxford education makes him well-equipped for the position. Not to mention, he wishes to stay near family.”

Mr. Ellsworth spoke quickly, but without censure. “Miss Ames is too kind. I wouldn’t presume to press myself upon you, Mr. Devon.” Mr. Ellsworth’s cheeks pinked.