Page 30 of Courting the Vicar’s Daughter

Harry looked between them again, his eyebrows drawn tightly down. “Are you looking for a position, Mr. Ellsworth? Would you be interested in being a steward?”

“Go on, Mr. Ellsworth,” Daisy said before the man could protest. “You were telling me a moment ago that you wished that very thing.” She turned to Harry. “It would not hurt anything to discuss the possibility, would it? Or to allow Mr. Ellsworth to look over the books, to determine if the position is one he could improve upon?”

Harry’s lips pressed together, but she could easily see he was resisting a smile rather than a grimace. Mr. Ellsworth had control over his blush and wore instead an earnest sort of frown.

“If you wish to fill the position, Mr. Devon, I would like to put my hat in the ring, as it were.” The hat in question was being bent at the brim in his hands. Daisy tried not to feel pleased with herself. Though she had facilitated the conversation between the men, it would all rest on Mr. Ellsworth’s capabilities and Harry’s decision. But she had rather a good feeling about the situation.

She turned her attention to the rain outside the window, listening with only half an ear as the men set up an appointment to discuss the possibilities later, at Whitewood. The rain had eased somewhat by the time the details were settled, with few enough drops falling that Daisy was of a mind to return home. She waited for an opportunity to speak.

“Gentlemen, it was very good to see you both today. I believe I am ready to brave the elements and return home now, if you will both excuse me.” She stood, tucking her parcel beneath her arm.

Both men came to their feet.

“Very good, Miss Ames,” Mr. Ellsworth said. “Do you wish me to accompany you?”

Harry Devon spoke before she could, as though in a rush to get his words out. “But you are going in the opposite direction, Mr. Ellsworth. Miss Ames and I must travel the same way. I will be happy to see her safely home.”

Daisy raised her eyebrows. “Really, it isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense. I am on my way home anyway.” Harry offered her his arm. “We can share the road for a time.”

Mr. Ellsworth bowed to them both. “A practical suggestion, Mr. Devon. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow. Good day, Miss Ames.”

Rather surprised to be on Harry’s arm, Daisy made her goodbye before he whisked her out of the inn and into the light mist that had taken the rain’s place.

“Did you walk to the Shield and Sword today, Mr. Devon?” she asked when they had left the inn’s yard.

“No, I took my carriage since I had rather important documents to give to my solicitor.” An impish gleam appeared in his eye.

“Your carriage?” Daisy tried to halt, but Harry kept walking down the lane. “Shouldn’t you retrieve it?”

“The driver is visiting his sister. He will not mind the extra time with her. At any rate, I couldn’t escort you if we had the carriage.” He tilted his head back to regard her. “It wouldn’t be seemly to ride without a chaperone.”

Daisy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “You make it sound as though I have improper intentions toward you, Mr. Devon.”

“Do you not, Miss Daisy?” he asked, sounding most doubtful.

“Most certainly not.” Daisy tried to sound as affronted as she ought to, though it was a difficult farce. “As you well know. And you mustn’t call me that. I haven’t given you leave—”

“I suppose not. You could, though. And if you let me call you Daisy, I will allow you to call me Harry.” He held himself magnanimously, as though bestowing a knighthood upon her.

She laughed again, this time without trying to stop the sound up. “You are perfectly incorrigible, Mr. Devon. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Only when we are not in company, Miss Ames. I promise no one would think us too familiar with one another.” He took on the expression of a piteous puppy, all large eyes and sad frown. “Please?” Their walk slowed nearly to a halt.

“Does wearing that expression usually get you what you want?” she asked. When a boy had three older sisters at home she imagined he must be creative in order to get his way. Incorrigible. That is the only word for him.

“More often than not.” He kept the pleading expression on another moment before releasing a rather dramatic sigh. “However, I do find that I encounter difficulty with the hard-hearted.”

Daisy tossed her head. “Is that what you are accusing me of, sir?” What was it about him that made her feel playful? When she spoke with other gentlemen, she could remain staid and polite, but it seemed as soon as Harry opened his mouth, she was capable of meeting jest for jest. That sort of openness from her was usually reserved for the children of her acquaintance.

Harry’s expression sobered as he regarded her, and he stopped walking to stare down into her face. The mist had turned his hair a trifle damp where it peeked out from under his hat, causing it to curl beneath the brim. That detail made the sudden seriousness of his expression all the more unexpected.

“I have it on good authority you are a woman in possession of great kindness and compassion.” He looked down at the road a moment. “My sister told me of your desire to start a school for the local children.” His voice had changed timbre as well in his solemnity, deepening enough to send a shiver through her.

Here she had thought him a playful sort of person and he immediately contradicted that idea by turning considerate.

“It is nothing but a dream at present,” she said, shifting the parcel in her arm.