The Heiress's Homecoming

His great-great-great-great-grandfather had ordered the hewing of the reddish stones that made up the walls. His great-great-great-uncle had replaced the previous dark pews with ones of polished oak. His great-great-grandmother had endowed the stained-glass windows that cast jeweled reflections on the worshiping congregation. His contribution for the moment consisted of a stone monument in the churchyard, where Peg had been laid to rest seventeen years ago this week.

No, that was unfair of him. He’d been involved in the parish since the day he’d returned. One of his first duties on becoming earl had been to install a new vicar when the previous man had left for a well-earned retirement. Mr. Pratt was a small man with a bare pate and trembling hands. Unfortunately even after several years in leadership, he consulted Will before making any decision.

Today Will and Jamie had already taken their seats in the Kendrick pew near the front of the church when a murmur ran through the waiting congregation. Samantha, Lady Everard, was making her way up the center aisle, a green velvet spencer over her gray lustring gown, peacock feathers waving from her velvet cap. She smiled at everyone and took her place beside Mrs. Dallsten Walcott in the Dallsten pew directly in front of Will. The scent of roses drifted over him.

It seemed a little peace was too much to ask.

As services began, Will wasn’t surprised to find Jamie fidgeting. They had all heard the words many times before, though Will usually found something new to intrigue him.

But it didn’t appear to be familiarity that bored his son. Jamie kept leaning forward, tilting his head, and Will was sure it wasn’t to better hear the sermon that followed the readings. No, Jamie was trying to catch a glimpse of Samantha Everard’s face, perhaps meet her gaze. To his sorrow Will had done the same thing when he’d been Jamie’s age—using any excuse to turn and look at Peggy several rows back.

To Lady Everard’s credit, however, she did not look at Jamie. Her gaze was on the vicar or the Book of Common Prayer whenever Will glanced her way, and Jamie’s heavy sigh told Will that she hadn’t favored the lad with a look even when Will had been focused on the vicar. From what he could tell by her bowed head and sweet voice, she seemed to take her worship seriously.

Normally so did Will. His father had raised him with a healthy respect for the church, and what he’d seen on his travels had only underscored the need to honor his Savior. But lately he felt his prayers laden with more questions than answers.

Why couldn’t Peg have lived to see their son become a man?

Why were they in danger of losing Kendrick Hall when he had worked hard to manage well?

Why had his brother been killed eight years ago?

Why couldn’t he get his mind off Samantha Everard?

Forgive me, Lord. You’ve seen me through robbery and rebellion. I know You have a plan for me now. I just can’t see it at the moment.

As if on cue the final hymn started, the congregation rose and voices swelled. Sunlight glittered through the stained-glass windows, casting a rainbow over the front pew, and Samantha Everard.

Was she part of the Lord’s plan for Will’s future?

He dropped his gaze to the flagstones at his feet. Even if he could convince himself to open his heart again, his place was here in Evendale. She had made it plain she wasn’t staying beyond a fortnight. And he could not hurt his son by evincing interest in the woman Jamie loved. Will needed to let go of these feelings she was raising in him.

Unfortunately letting go was the hardest thing for him to do.

* * *

Samantha sighed contently as the service ended. She’d worshipped at St. George’s, Hanover Square, with most of the denizens of London’s wealthy West End. She’d even spent a few occasions at the grand Westminster Cathedral. But there was nothing quite so satisfying as this church where she’d been raised. The light from the stained-glass windows always made her feel as if God was sending a blessing just for her.

Around her, the congregation was filing out, the murmur of their voices lapping at her like warm waves. The people of the valley would gather for a moment in the churchyard, she knew, to exchange greetings, pass messages about friends and family. She clung to the peace of the sanctuary a moment, closing her eyes.

Lord, I’ve made so many mistakes the past few years. I’ve been impetuous, headstrong and obstinate. Each time, I’ve come to You, and You’ve forgiven me. Help me now to do what’s right, for all of us.

She opened her eyes to find Mrs. Dallsten Walcott regarding her quizzically. “Is something wrong, dear girl?”

Samantha smiled. “No. Just appreciating this place, our people.” She wrapped her arms around the lady and gave her a hug. She knew it was impetuous, but she was fairly sure God looked kindly on such acts of love.

Mrs. Dallsten Walcott did so as well, it seemed, for she was smiling when Samantha released her.

“Come along now,” she said as if to hide the lapse in her normally composed demeanor. “I want to introduce you to the new vicar. He hasn’t Mr. Ramsey’s presence, but he’s very good about knowing his place.”

By that Samantha guessed the new vicar knew how to toady up to the lady. Though the Dallstens had once been one of the most prestigious families in the area, Samantha’s father, the former Lord Everard, had changed that when he’d purchased their impoverished estate and installed his wife and young daughter in the manor. Mrs. Dallsten Walcott had gone to live in the dower cottage at the foot of the drive, her provenance supplied by her daughter’s work as Samantha’s governess.

In other places the change in her status might have been enough to cost Mrs. Dallsten Walcott the respect of the community. But the local families still held the Dallstens in high esteem, which was evident by the number of people waiting to greet Samantha’s chaperone when she and Mrs. Dallsten Walcott exited the church.

But Jamie and his father were not among them. She’d known they’d been right behind her in church; Jamie and his grandfather had always sat in that pew when she’d been growing up. Then as now, his presence had brought comfort.

Jamie’s father was another matter. At times she’d found it difficult to concentrate on her worship, knowing Lord Kendrick might be looking at her back. Was her cap on straight? Was she standing reverently enough? Oh, but she shouldn’t worship to please anyone but her heavenly Father!

Yet the moment she spotted him and Jamie standing in the shade of an elm along the edge of the churchyard, she felt a similar wish to please Lord Kendrick. She wanted him to approve of the way she smiled and exclaimed over new babies, recent marriages and good fortune. She hoped he would join her in commiserating over deaths, illness and hard times. But though she felt his gaze on her as she followed Mrs. Dallsten Walcott from group to group, he remained on the edge of the yard.

What was he waiting for? Why didn’t he approach her? She could not have given him a disgust of her by admitting she fenced, or he was not the man she thought him. What kept him away?

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed when Mrs. Dallsten Walcott finally drew her up beside Jamie and Lord Kendrick. Jamie looked dapper in a navy coat and trousers, his cravat tied in some complicated knot she thought must have given his valet fits.

But Lord Kendrick outdid his son. He wore a dove-gray cutaway coat over black trousers, his cravat simply but elegantly tied, the buttons on his silver-shot waistcoat gleaming in the sunlight. And those boots! The scarlet leather was tooled with fanciful birds and sweeping palms. She was certain there wasn’t another pair like them in England.

Lord Kendrick and Jamie had been talking with another fellow dressed more humbly in brown coat and trousers, and it wasn’t until he pulled off his top hat to reveal carrot-colored hair that she recognized him, and every other thought flew from her mind.

“Toby!” Samantha enfolded her friend and former suitor in a hug, then stepped back to eye him. “Oh, it’s been ages. How are you?”

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