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Tobias’ calmly determined mindset got him through the days that followed. He tried not to expend any more time or worry on the Lucy situation. He scolded himself that he had wasted more than enough energy over the past weeks moping and agonising over whether or not she had rejected his suit.
His refreshing night with his good friend Meg had soothed his nerves (as well as other bodily parts). Also, given that she had promised to try to talk to Lucy in order to get to the bottom of things on his behalf, he decided to leave events in the lap of the gods (or rather Meg). So he decided he would plod through his daily life, parish visits and sermon preparation rather in the manner of a blinkered horse.
It was also a relief to Tobias and what remained of his wine cellar to see the back of his rackety soldier brother Tom, who had descended on him for a brief but draining visit, for ulterior motives best kept to himself. He had initially mentioned a stay of two days but rapidly extended this for a further four-and-twenty hours, to Tobias’ ill-concealed dismay.
At least having Meg there for the middle night had lightened the load. Tobias grinned at the memory of Meg repeatedly and deliberately drawing out Tom to his most exaggerated spates of bragging then rolling her eyes at his ridiculous boasts.
So, the third and final night alone with Tom was more of a chore. From experience, Tobias made sure to hide what remained of his best vintages and brought out a few inferior bottles. The way Tom swilled it down, he doubted he would notice as long as there was plenty of it, he thought.
They had retired to Tobias’ dusty drawing-room after what passed for an evening repast provided by the vicarage's inept housekeeper. Tobias was evidently not the only one who was getting tired of Tom’s ability to avail himself generously of his host’s hospitality.
She had mumbled audibly, “That one is eating me out of house and home,” as she served Tom a third helping of over-boiled vegetables to go with another hunk of ham.
Tom held up his wine glass to the fading light as if he were a true connoisseur before gulping down half of it with a satisfied sigh and no adverse comment. Given his enthusiastic response, Tobias was particularly glad he had stashed the good stuff for someone who might appreciate it, namely himself.
“So where is that lovely lady from last evening?” Tom asked with a suggestive wink. “I thought she was rather falling for my charms last night and I’d get lucky tonight.”
Tobias almost choked on his vinous mouthful. Tom’s interpretation of events seemed rather different from Meg’s. He clearly remembered her particular title for Tom was, ‘that fool of a brother of yours.’ Also, it seemed Tom was utterly oblivious to the fact that Meg had spent last night gladly in Tobias’ bed.
He tucked Tom’s phrasing away in his mind to make Meg fall about laughing when he next saw her. He imagined her response would be along the lines of, ‘when hell freezes over.’
“My parishioner,” Tobias said repressively once he could breathe again, “is busy with household duties this evening.” Which, unbeknownst to Tom, was code for entertaining the gentleman who was currently paying for her favours and her residence in a very nice cottage in the next town.
“Shame, that,” Tom said, draining his goblet and pouring himself another bumper. He looked speculatively at Tobias. “I rather thought that next time I visit,” Tobias tried not to look dismayed at the dreaded words ‘next time’, “I might bring Fifi along since she’s been here before.” Tobias nearly dropped his glass in horror.
Miss Fifi Fontayne was an actress of considerable renown, Tom’s sometime mistress and their mother’s nemesis. On the solitary occasion when Fifi had landed at the vicarage for an unscheduled stay, Mrs Whitmore’s reaction was swift, scary and apoplectic. Tobias shuddered to think of the consequences of a repeat encounter.
“Absolutely not!” Tobias snapped so firmly that Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Mama would be livid, and with me, rather than you, since this is my home.” He said this pointedly as it was probably Tom’s cunning plan to avert any blame onto his long-suffering younger sibling. “She nearly had me married off to one of the Lowe sisters on the last occasion and I’d be frogmarched up the aisle quick-time if it happened again.”
Tom looked vaguely interested. “Wealthy, are they?”
“Extremely,” Tobias replied, “And almost as equally ill-favoured.” Feeling that this was a little unkind, if completely accurate, he added a cursory, “Poor dears,” before continuing, “They also have a mother makes ours look like the font of liberality.”
“Ah,” said Tom, evidently abandoning that idea and taking a gulp of wine. Another thought struck him. “What about Lucy Holbourne?” he asked lazily. “Mama said she’d become a fine-looking girl."
Tobias bristled even more at that and manfully restrained himself from punching the goblet out of his brother’s hand. “She’s taken,” he said shortly.
Tom shrugged good-naturedly, “Oh well,” he said. “Plenty of time to get leg-shackled. Might as well have some fun in the meantime. I must look up Fifi on my next furlough. Do you know where she might be?”
Pouring them both another generous brimful, Tobias happily informed his brother of Fifi’s exact direction. Not only was he appeased that Tom seemed to have abandoned the idea of bringing Fifi to the vicarage but he also hoped they would resume their affaire in Bath where she was currently in a theatrical troupe.
The fashionable spa was at a sufficient distance from Stratton to avoid Mrs Whitmore’s wrath and so the entire ensuing debacle would not be Tobias’ problem. Tom could look out for himself from now on, Tobias thought cheerfully, toasting himself with a sip of wine which really wasn’t all that bad after the first glass or so.
The next day, Tom breakfasted amply, typically devouring Tobias’s meagre provisions for the day, to ‘set him up for the journey’. Tobias mused that by the amount of food he’d gobbled, the trip should be cross-continental, rather than merely cross country. However, since Tom was about to take his leave, Tobias’ demeanour remained equable. That was until Tom had the nerve to ask him for a loan.
“Just a few guineas would do,” he said easily in the manner of a practised scrounger.
Tobias, at the limits of his patience, sharply informed him that firstly, he had no spare coin at his disposal and secondly, Tom already owed him for his half of the payment sent by their elder brother Edward to get rid of Fifi in the first place. Not that Tobias expected to recover that investment, but asking for further funds was beyond the pale.
Briskly seeing his brother safely off the premises, he stayed on the road outside the coaching inn to make certain that Tom was on the outbound vehicle when it departed. On the short walk there, he had firmly refused to listen to any more suggestions of various ‘favours’ he could bestow. Having thankfully waved Tom off, Tobias ruminated that his fussy churchwarden’s endless lectures would be positively welcome after Tom’s particular brand of sponging.
Yet again, when cloistered in the church with that gentleman for much of the afternoon, Tobias realised he was entirely mistaken in this assumption. For much of the conversation cum lecture, Tobias could nod his head and smile while his thoughts were entirely elsewhere, mainly wondering if Tom had left any provisions in the larder for his dinner.
However, when the gentleman pasted on his most unctuous smile and enquired about Tobias’ marital prospects, he had his full attention and outright alarm.
“Perhaps if your preference hasn’t been fixed yet, we could arrange for the young ladies of the parish to come to Sunday service another time?” he suggested encouragingly.
Tobias had to stifle an impulse to run after the coach, drag Tom out of the moving conveyance and beg his brother to return to face this ordeal with him. He was well aware of the rumblings in the Church of England about falling church attendances but temporarily boosting these within the parish as an aid to forced matrimony was too much of a sacrifice to make.
He thought rapidly in order to deflect or at least postpone the grim prospect of a repeat performance. Last time was traumatic enough. The memory of having a church packed full of fluttering females desperate to engage his attention while he was attempting to conduct a service had him waking up in a cold sweat at nights.
“I can assure you the matter is under serious consideration. Of course, I am discussing my particular choices with my mother, who will have the final word,” he lied plausibly.
The mention of the formidable Mrs Whitmore, with whom the churchwarden was closely allied in the crusade to find Tobias a suitable life partner, was enough to placate him temporarily. Tobias swiftly and tactfully moved the subject onto parish matters that had a less drastic impact on his personal consequences.
When rather wearily returning to the vicarage, Tobias wondered for how long he’d be able to fend off this two-pronged attack to rush him into the bonds of matrimony. The stray thought came into his mind that, having made the choice of his heart, he could not bear to be married to anyone else but Lucy.
He felt a lump rise in his throat at that and tried to banish the wave of misery that swept over him. ‘Enough of that,’ he told himself resolutely as he made his way into the recesses of the kitchen to discover whether his brother had left him anything whatsoever to eat.
The next few days passed without any excitement, as Tobias’ constitution recovered from the unusually sustained bout of heavy drinking. He had reasoned, at the time, that it was not only mannerly to join in with Tom's imbibing but also a necessary means of coping with the strain of his constant companionship.
Towards the end of the week, when he was feeling more refreshed, he returned to the vicarage mid-afternoon, rather hoping this was the end of his duties of the day, although his churchwarden had muttered something about yet another consultation about something or other. His housekeeper met him in the hall with a jerk of the head towards the drawing-room which was her way of indicating he had someone waiting for him, before shuffling off to the back of the house, feeling she had fulfilled her duties.
Tobias gave a sigh at both the interruption to some much-needed quiet time and her lack of social skills as he opened the drawing-room door with a conciliatory smile plastered on his face. This faltered somewhat when he saw that the person seated on his battered settle was none other than Lucy Holbourne.
He froze for a moment and had to repress a foolish urge to flee the room, before he gathered himself and said in an even tone that he hoped was that of a professional cleric, “Good afternoon. And how may I help you, Miss Holbourne?”
Lucy looked up at him, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Tobias,” she said shakily, "I’ve been so foolish, how can I ever make amends?”
All Tobias’ middle of the night strictures about how he would behave with cool indifference towards Lucy when they next met melted away like wax in hot sunshine.
“Oh, Lucy, my dear,” he said, walking over to the settle and sitting beside her, gathering both her hands in his, “Whatever is the matter?”
“I’ve been so awful to you, treated you so badly,” Lucy wept, “I didn’t realise until Meg came to see me and I simply had to apologise at once.”
He let go of one of her hands so she could fish out a clean handkerchief from her reticule to stem the flow of tears.
“You must detest me,” she said. Only half an hour ago, he would have thoroughly agreed with her. But now, seeing her in such distress, all he felt was a tender concern.
“Oh no, Lucy, not at all,” Tobias reassured her.
She wiped her eyes and gathered herself, determined to say her piece. “I have been very selfish,” She said. “I was so wrapped up in my own feelings,” she hesitated as emotion threatened to overwhelm her, “that I did not think for a moment about how my conduct affected you.”
She gulped back a sob. “When Meg told me how much I had hurt you, I had to tell you how very sorry I am.” She gave a watery smile. “Even if it meant fibbing to my mother about where I was going.”
Tobias smiled at her, resisting the temptation to lift her hand to his lips. “That was very brave of you to risk your reputation coming to a vicarage, of all places,” he said lightly.
Encouraged, Lucy smiled weakly back at him. “It was very important for me to see you. I don’t expect you to forgive me or for things between us to be the same as they were. I know I have lost my chance with you,” she said so sadly that Tobias’ heart squeezed tightly in his chest.
“But I just had to explain, to make things right,” she hesitated and Tobias waited patiently.
“I just felt so guilty,” she said simply.
“Guilty?” Tobias echoed, momentarily confused.
Lucy looked at her lap for a second, her expression hidden by the brim of her hat. “That night at the Glossops’ was so wonderful,” she began. “What happened with you was so special and I never dreamed I would ever feel that way. The next day, I was walking on air,” she said, looking at him, her eyes glowing with real warmth. Then her smile faded.
“But after that, I started thinking about Frederick and I felt conscience-stricken.”
Tobias frowned, trying valiantly to follow the threads of Lucy’s tangled emotions. Frederick was Lucy’s former fiancé, who sadly had died of his wounds in battle during the American wars, nearly two years previously. Tobias knew it had taken Lucy a long time to face the world again after his loss, but he wasn’t quite sure what this had to do with him.
Seeing the mild bafflement in his expression, Lucy continued. “I know I have previously confessed to you before you and I became,” she hesitated, “so close. Frederick and I felt as if we were married already in our hearts and consummated our vows to each other before he left with his regiment.” Tobias just nodded and squeezed her hand encouragingly.
“Well,” she said, blushingly, “Pledging our troth to each other before he left is something I have never regretted and I value that with all my heart. But the act itself,” she glanced away shyly, “was a little uncomfortable and awkward. At the time, I knew no different and thought nothing of it but when what happened with you was so… different, I felt terrible, unfaithful, like the worst sort of strumpet,
“Lucy!” Tobias protested, thinking not only that she was being too far hard on herself but also that he had a bit of a soft spot for strumpets.
Lucy looked at him, her face full of contrition. “That is why I avoided you and for that reason only. It’s not that I had second thoughts about you or our intimacy. I simply felt so ashamed and miserable about Frederick that I couldn’t face you. I regret with all my heart that I caused you pain,” she finished and those big blue eyes gazed up at him with such sincerity that it was all Tobias could do not to gather her into his arms.
“There was no one I could discuss this with to make me see things differently. Until Meg called round and gave me a good talking to. Then, at last, I came to my senses,” Lucy said with a faint smile.
“She told me,” Lucy continued, “that these things are a matter of practice and that if Frederick had survived and returned to me, we would have learned together, and that side of marriage,” she blushed again, “would have become enjoyable for us both. But he is gone and you are here and I must not think of what happened between the two of us as any anything other than normal and natural.”
Tobias nodded his head in dawning understanding.
“Meg said,” Lucy continued, “that rejecting you out of a sense of misplaced self-blame had no reward of virtue and would only make us both feel wretched. Your mama would have you married off to one of those poor Lowe girls before you could blink and mine would push the suit of someone I barely liked, like that dreadfully loud military man the Reynolds’ brought to our party in the summer,” she frowned, trying to recall a name.
“Captain Shouty?” Tobias supplied helpfully.
Lucy laughed despite herself. “Yes, someone like him. “Meg told me that there was no point whatsoever in having a situation with four unhappy people.” She paused, “Well, she actually said two unhappy people and two who were completely oblivious.”
Tobias couldn’t help laughing at Meg’s inherently pithy turn of phrase.
“So I had to come and speak with you,” Lucy said. “To explain and to apologise for behaving so badly that I have lost your regard.”
She started to shift in the settle as if, having made her confession, she was preparing to depart. Before her hand could slip out of his, Tobias gripped it more firmly.
“What makes you think you have lost my regard?” he asked.
Lucy was suddenly still. “You forgive me?” she asked incredulously.
“Lucy, my darling, I would forgive you anything,” Tobias said honestly. “Your loyalty to Frederick’s memory only shows what a truly good soul you are,” and at last he brought her hand to his lips.
“Oh, Tobias,” Lucy said, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. “I never thought…”
Tobias put his arms around her and she once again sobbed into his second-best coat as he rubbed her back through her outer clothes and uttered soothing words of affection and comfort in her ear.
“I’m so sorry,” she said,” eventually bringing up her pink and tear-stained face from his shoulder. “I always seem to be crying over you.”
“Not always,” Tobias said with a faint grin.
Lucy's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “When Meg said that I might have driven you away forever, I came to my senses. I lost Frederick to war, which could not be helped, but to throw away another chance of happiness for mere indulgent foolishness…?”
“You haven’t lost me,” Tobias said and her face was so near to his that he could not help but bring her closer for a kiss. Their lips met and all was calm for a moment until the tumult of released emotion on one side and amorous hopes renewed on the other turned the tender embrace into a somewhat fevered tussle.
Lucy’s hat was knocked askew as Tobias passionately kissed those tearstained cheeks and tender neck where he breathed in her sweet unique scent, her fichu swept aside to display the tops of her white bosom. Their arms stayed close around each other, their hands roving and eagerly exploring.
In Tobias’ mind, the scene that they had so enjoyed rather more decorously at the Glossops’ soirée was being replayed, but with all constraints abandoned. As before, Lucy half-lay over Tobias and he kept his thigh firmly pressed between hers as she undulated against him with increasing urgency.
To help her pleasure, his hands delved under her skirts, caressing those smooth thighs above her stocking tops and clutching the curves of her rounded bottom for purchase as she passionately reached her peak on this not-to-be-hoped-for second occasion. Lucy cried aloud with uninhibited release as Tobias lovingly nipped her neck, revelling in her joy.
They lay still together, caught up in the moment, gathering their composure. Tobias felt completely content to have reclaimed his sweetheart and to have her safe and satisfied in his arms.
He was about to say as much when, with no warning, the drawing-room door was flung open. The churchwarden stood there, the housekeeper hovering in the hallway behind him, taking in the outrageously licentious scene before them. That good man’s face went sheet white with shock, then fiery red with indignation before he started to open his mouth to berate the scandalous pair, no doubt in the strongest terms imaginable.
With a hitherto unsuspected sang-froid, Tobias flicked the disarranged dress down over Lucy’s revealed limbs and gently easing her from him, stood up. He made sure to keep her hand firmly in his so she rose with him. In this way, they approached their outraged accuser before he could begin his harangue.
“Ah, there you are, Churchwarden,” Tobias said jovially as if this encounter was by appointment and entirely expected. “You do know Miss Holbourne, don’t you? Or should I say, the future Mrs Tobias Whitmore? We rather seem to have become engaged. You can be the first to congratulate us.”
Leela
- 23.10.2020
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- Historical
