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Tobias started the Sabbath day in a buoyant mood. When in church, old Mr Hodges woke up from an apparently vivid dream in the middle of the sermon, no doubt recalling some ancient wrongdoing. He yelled loudly when Tobias was in full flow about turning the other cheek, “I’ll get ye for this if it’s the last thing I do, ye rotten bastards!” Even this slightly awkward interruption did not disturb Tobias’s sense of inner well-being.
After all, he had virtually plighted his troth to the lovely Lucy Holbourne at a party a few days before. His churchwarden might be interfering beyond the limits of his role and his housekeeper selectively deaf, but these everyday irritants could not spoil his sense of all-pervading gladness.
On Tuesday, this equable frame of mind was slightly dampened. He was out and about on his scheduled visits within his parish of Stratton-over-Wye and therefore on foot. Looking down the street, he thought he spotted the lithe form of his Lucy. His confidence in her feelings was such that he felt emboldened to call out to her, sure that she would be equally glad of this unexpected meeting. However, she simply carried on walking away from him.
Tobias was too busy to think much of it at the time, but later in his study, while trying to helpfully critique a specimen sermon at his curate’s request, his mind kept mulling over the small incident. There were a thousand reasons why she had not responded, he reasoned.
For one, it might not have been Lucy, after all, just someone with a passing resemblance to her at a distance. Or if it was Lucy, she might not have heard him, as the street had been busy and there was considerable background noise, both human and of traffic.
Even as he made these rational excuses, a worm of disquiet started to bury itself in his thoughts. Finding himself gazing mindlessly at his curate’s cramped handwriting, he dismissed these for the time being. He decided that all would be made clear and hopefully happily when he next met with the lady properly.
There was no great delay over such an opportunity. As the autumn weather continued to be relatively fine, there were frequent casual social occasions in the district. This was to take advantage before the wet and cold of the winter came and effectively closed the roads with a deluge of mud.
Although Tobias and Lucy attended these same events, he was not able to get a chance to talk with her. She always seemed to be surrounded by a gaggle of girls or was conversing with someone else when he attempted to approach her. Tobias did not count himself as one of the more percipient of beings, nor was he easily affronted. However, as this pattern was repeated over and again, it gradually occurred to him that she was deliberately avoiding him.
To be fair, this was done in a subtle way. She did not toss her head, avert her glare and deliver a cut direct. There was no anger in her manner, which Tobias rather sadly thought was more like indifference. There was also no gossip about Lucy quarrelling with him that reached his ears. As far as his neighbours were concerned, they were virtually an established couple.
He puzzled over this. As at the Glossops' only a week or two previously, she had responded to his kisses with something more than warmth and seemed to find nothing but bliss in his arms. What could have changed in so short a time? Was she ashamed of such wanton behaviour? If so, then this was a unique situation for him. Frankly, the ladies with whom Tobias frequently shared physical pleasure did not seem to have the word ‘shame’ in their personal vocabularies.
Perhaps she regretted their brief intimacy and wished to get their relationship back on a merely friendly setting? There was no point fretting over this. If only he could get the opportunity to catch her alone, then at least he might know one way or the other.
During a convivial afternoon at the Canon’s, his relative by marriage, he managed to stand next to Lucy as the person on her other side was engaged in conversation and so her attention was temporarily free. Tobias began to speak some social pleasantries to Lucy, who responded politely while firmly gazing over his shoulder. Knowing that time was short before they were interrupted, he rather desperately began to ask what he had practised saying to her.
“Lucy,” he said quietly. “Have I offended you in some way?”
She suddenly met his eyes, startled out of her cool repose and spoke with her former warmth of manner. “Oh no, Tobias!” She exclaimed, “How could you ever offend me?”
He began to speak again, to inquire further, but at that very moment she was addressed by another of the group and the moment of connection was broken. When Tobias attempted any kind of casual conversation later, Lucy’s reserved veneer was firmly back in place.
Rather than having any kind of definitive answer, Tobias felt more confused than ever, and also rather wretched. If Lucy was not annoyed with him and her feelings towards him had not changed, then why was she acting so coldly? He did not believe for a moment that this was some kind of cruel game of courtship that some ladies indulged in, which he privately surmised to be the human equivalent of pulling wings off flies. Nothing in Lucy’s character led him to believe that she would partake in such unkind pastimes. However, he was bemused at her changed attitude and did not know what to do.
The one person he could have confided in was his intimate friend Meg, who had recently become a friendly acquaintance of Lucy’s, with mutual approval on both sides. Tobias was a little hazy over the etiquette of discussing romantic relations about one lady with another with whom he had been frequently and energetically intimate.
However, Meg had proved herself a true friend and support and her somewhat unorthodox life experience made her hugely understanding of the vagaries of human behaviour, well beyond Tobias’ rather narrow limits. Unfortunately, the gentleman at whose leisure she was currently employed was frequently visiting the little cottage he had hired for her in the next town, so Tobias had to wait for her counsel until she was less occupied.
Adding to his misery was a letter from his mama, full of expectation about his burgeoning courtship of Lucy. He could not blame any particular tale carrier as the news could have come innocently from several people at the Glossops' who had seen them so happily together. He quailed at her future fury and disappointment that he had upset another potential and socially acceptable bride to be. Once that happened, no doubt he would find himself engaged to the most odious of the Lowe sisters before a week was out, he thought grimly.
But these circumstances made him realise that Lucy was not simply a more pleasing alternative to a Lowe (for some obscure reason, favourites for his hand in his mother’s estimation, no doubt due to their father’s bank balance rather than their personal attractiveness). This was not about the necessity of making a financially rewarding match with some lady or other who he could tolerate to spend at least part of each day with.
Now it was too late, he was aware he cared for Lucy for herself and the reciprocated tendresse she had appeared to have for him, however briefly. Their affection for each other had gradually crept up over the months as they had got closer, kindling only into a flame of love and passion on that fateful evening. It was only now that this seemed to fallen to ashes that he appreciated the strength of his emotions and regard for her.
For the first time in his life, Tobias was lovelorn. He nursed his wounded heart as all around him (at least for those in his immediate circle) expected him to rejoice in his new-found happiness.
With no immediate end to his romantic plight, Tobias plodded on through his duties, even using them as an excuse not to join in the social round. Seeing Lucy under the current circumstances was too painful. He felt inured in his little bubble of misery and just tried to find comfort in the thought that at least things could not get any worse.
Regrettably, subsequent events proved this supposition to be false. When he arrived at his home from the sickbed of a parishioner one late afternoon, he was greeted by his housekeeper in the hallway of the vicarage. Her normally vacuous countenance looked near to agitated or even irritated as she pointed towards the drawing-room door. “Youse a visitor,” she said in a voice of doom before scuttling back to the bowels of the kitchens.
Puzzled and slightly apprehensive, Tobias squared his shoulders before approaching the drawing-room door. He opened it to find to his surprise, his middle brother Tom, resplendent in his military dress, lounging on the settle, booted feet resting on the worn arm, with a brimming glass of Tobias’ best claret in his hand.
With his emotions having been limited only to varying levels of unhappiness for the past while, Tobias’ sense of violent outrage almost overwhelmed him. “Hello, Tom,” he said. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He added, doing his best to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.
“Ah, there you are, old chap,” Tom said lazily, as though Tobias was the one who was lolling about and he had been kept waiting for hours. “Jolly good claret this. Is it from pa?”
Tobias nodded stiffly in assent, stopping himself from adding childishly, ‘but it’s mine now.’
Without changing his relaxed posture, Tom continued to enjoy his refreshment, completely at his ease. Tobias had to desist from sweeping the large feet in those very shiny boots from his fittings and fixtures. It might be that he was often in the habit of adopting the same pose himself, and it wasn’t as if anyone could ruin such an ancient appliance. But for heaven’s sake, it was his home and his furniture for him to despoil, not his wretched brother.
Warily, since Tom had annexed the best seat in the room, Tobias occupied the armchair opposite that had seen better days. “So Tom,” he repeated, thinking that continued repetition might be the only way he could get a straight answer. “Why are you here?”
Tom waved an arm lazily, almost sloshing the precious liquid over the brim of his glass, “Well,” he drawled. “I had some spare leave and thought I’d drop in and see you for old times' sake.
The only ‘old times’ that immediately came to mind were in his adolescence when Tom was in the habit of ducking his younger brother’s head in the stable trough for his entertainment. On more than one occasion, he only desisted when physically tackled by their elder brother to allow Tobias to emerge sodden, dripping, coughing and barely able to breathe.
“So why did you not go home?” Tobias asked shrewdly. This resulted in another languid hand gesture.
“Oh, you know,” Tom said. “I only have a few days’ grace and it didn’t seem worth my while to go all that way. Anyone would think you weren’t glad to see me!” He added jocularly.
Tobias demurred mendaciously while thinking quickly. Firstly, he was glad to learn he did not have to host his extravagant brother for more than the minimum time, as he would easily go through a few months’ carefully calculated budget in a week at the rate he was slugging back that wine. Also, his unwillingness to go back to the bosom of his family, where he would be amply fed and watered and be able to scrounge extra funds from his father was suspicious in itself. Tobias considered the possibilities.
Either these ‘few days’ away from the regiment were a punishment rather than actual leave and Tom had been sent away to cool his heels and dare not admit this to his mama, or he had behaved so badly at home last time that he was wisely waiting until the storm had passed. Tobias briefly wondered if further tidings of Tom’s former mistress, the outrageous Miss Fifi Fontayne had sullied their mother’s ears in the meantime. That might explain why Tom was too scared to go home.
“A few days, you say?” He murmured while calculating swiftly. “That’s two? Or maybe three at most?”
“Two full days,” Tom said smilingly, as though this must be a rare treat for his younger sibling. “I’ll be travelling back on the third day.” Before Tobias could think, ‘thank heavens,’ he added considerately, “Would you like some of this claret? It’s rather good.”
Gritting his teeth, Tobias desisted from snatching the receptacle from his brother’s hand and tipping the contents all over his immaculate uniform. Instead, he rose wearily and went in search of another glass before Tom could drain the carafe.
To say that the next day was trying would be an understatement. Tobias had made the strategic error of drowning his sorrows on the previous evening. He had resignedly reckoned that if Tom was going to drink his way steadily through the contents of his wine cellar, he may as well join him. The result of this miscalculation was Tobias slumped at the breakfast table, his head so heavy that he could have happily lain it down on the unpolished surface and slept the day away.
However, there was the unpleasant fact of a full day of pastoral calls looming ahead of him. In contrast, Tom was infuriatingly as bright as a lark and was chattering unnecessarily though a full cooked breakfast supplied grudgingly by the housekeeper.
Although he couldn’t remember much of the morning, by mid-afternoon Tobias had revived somewhat due to a plentiful supply of tea and cake during his visits. So he arrived back at the vicarage feeling slightly less delicate. As he took off his coat, he espied an object in the hall table that did not ordinarily belong there. The workaday furnishing was now adorned by a splendidly oversized and colourful bonnet.
This signature headgear could only belong to one lady (who was not quite a lady) of his acquaintance. For a moment, he felt huge relief at Meg’s presence and blessed her for having come to him as soon as was possible. Then as he approached his drawing-room door, he felt a qualm as he heard the drawl of his brother’s voice pitched at its most seductive register. Tobias hesitated, worried at what he might find behind the door.
Tom always boasted of his success with the ladies. If, even in his comparatively penniless state, he had attracted such a high flyer as Mistress Fontayne, how could Meg possibly resist him? Would Tobias enter the drawing-room to find Meg already enraptured by his engaging older brother, or even in his arms, gazing adoringly into his eyes?
With a gulp, Tobias opened the door, prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the scene before him was far from what his fevered imagination had led him to believe. Tom was on the settle, yet another glass of Tobias’ best claret in hand, holding forth at length, while Meg, although sharing the seat, was as far away from him as was possible, apparently engrossed in an old copy of The Theological Miscellany.
“Of course, as one of the inner circle, my opinion was asked forthwith and I spoke my mind to my commanding officer,” opined Tom, “as always, he immediately took my advice.”
“That’s nice,” Meg said, in a tone of utter boredom. She looked up and saw Tobias, the apparently fascinating article on the state of the plumbing at Lambeth Palace immediately flung aside. “There you are,” she said, not even trying to hide her relief. “Shall we go for a walk?”
“But I haven’t finished my story!” Tom protested in amazement.
Facing Tobias, her back towards Tom, Meg crossed her eyes, saying cheerfully, “I’m sure we’ll hear it all again later!” Tobias had to repress a snort of laughter.
They went back into the hall, not bothering to don coats or hats on such a mellow autumn afternoon. As they stepped over the threshold and into the garden, Meg exclaimed in tones of astonishment, “I really don’t know how someone like you could have such a fool for a brother!” Tobias knew he ought to defend Tom out of some vague feeling of family loyalty, but instead felt the first flush of good cheer he had enjoyed for some weeks.
By mutual assent, they made their way to an ancient part of the graveyard, which was not only scenic but a private place to talk. Meg sat on a low boundary wall, spreading her skirts, looking every inch a vision of pastoral loveliness. Tobias perched on a small oblong tomb opposite as she started to speak.
“I came as soon as I could, but I couldn’t exactly say I was coming to meet another man, even if you are a vicar. Or my gentleman would get the wrong idea, or is that the right idea?” She added with a naughty wink. “So,” she continued briskly, “your note sounded as though something was troubling you. Now we’re finally away from your rattlepate of a brother, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
At that sympathetic entree, it all came spilling out. Starting with the romantic evening at the Glossops' and how ever since his hopes had been dashed by Lucy’s baffling attitude. “She said I hadn’t offended her,” Tobias finished miserably, gazing at the patchily mown grass, “but she won’t talk to me and I just don’t know how to go on from here.”
His outpouring was met with silence. For a horrible moment, Tobias thought he had given grave offence at admitting his amorous feelings about one lady to another. When he looked up, he was relieved to see that Meg, rather than being remotely affronted, was gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance, tapping her finger on her chin as if making some internal calculation.
“Lucy was engaged before, wasn’t she?” She asked.
Utterly baffled by this non-sequitur, Tobias confirmed this fact obligingly. “Yes, to Frederick. Sadly, he died of his wounds in the American wars.”
“Ah,” Meg said, as though this fact was mysteriously significant. There was a short pause. “Very well,” she said decisively. “Leave it to me,” she added with a beaming smile.
“Er, thank you,” Tobias said automatically, more bemused than ever. “Leave what to you?” he added cautiously.
“Everything,” Meg said expansively, with an accompanying wave of her arm.
Tobias had the unnerving feeling that he had jumped from the proverbial frying pan into the fire. Not wanting to seem ungrateful at his good friend’s offer of assistance, he politely kept his reservations to himself.
Meg rose from her rustic seat with her usual grace. “Now that’s settled, we ought to go back and have some of that wine before that brother of yours finishes the next magnum all by himself,” she said with a grin.
Tobias lent her his arm and they returned to the vicarage. After last night’s imbibing, he wasn’t sure if he could face any more liquor. However, he reasoned that Meg’s reassuring presence meant he didn’t have to spend another evening in his brother’s undiluted company. Also, the fact she found Tom ridiculous rather than irresistible boosted his sense of fortitude.
The evening was, in fact, highly entertaining, with Meg deliberately drawing out Tom with false flattery so that his boastfulness became increasingly ludicrous. She then turned to Tobias behind Tom’s back and made outrageous faces. His cheek muscles were hurting with the effort of trying not to laugh out loud.
The more Tom was encouraged to expound with an accompanying bumper of wine, the sillier his stories became. Finally, he passed out on the settle in mid-sentence and Meg and Tobias helped each other up the stairs, still laughing. “The way he goes on, you’d think he ran the army single-handed. I’m surprised he can manage to find his own boots!” Meg giggled.
They entered his room, Meg swaying slightly as he sat her on the bed. Tobias blearily removed his own shoes and breeches and gathered up his nightshirt. Despite being glad of her presence, Tobias felt bone-deep weary and emotionally drained. He didn’t think he had the energy to thank her in the physically robust way she usually enjoyed and expected.
He need not have worried. Meg looked over her shoulder at him. ”Do you have a spare one of those?” She asked, nodding her head at his nightshirt while she attempted to undo her bodice. He fetched the clean item from a drawer as she stepped out of her gown and leaving it in a puddle on the floor. “Easier for a quick getaway in the morning,” She grinned.
Once attired in their nightclothes, they got into bed together and cuddled up for warmth. Breathing in her scent, Tobias felt Meg’s hands wander aimlessly over his back and he felt inordinately comforted by her caresses. He softly kissed the fine line of her jaw and his lips met hers, not in the usual tussle of tongues but gently, with almost careful tenderness.
The kiss deepened and the over-large nightshirt slipped from Meg’s shoulder, so Tobias saluted the warm, exposed flesh there, questing down the open shirtfront, to feast on those wonderfully prominent nipples. Meg murmured in response and pulled Tobias’ nightshirt up over his hips, caressing his bare bum cheeks.
There was nothing urgent or impatient about their exploration as her borrowed garment slid up Meg’s slender thighs and they rubbed together, unencumbered by clothing. When they did finally join in the act of pleasure it felt unhurried and effortless. Meg’s moans of ecstasy were a continual hum of delight in Tobias’ ear as he buried his face in her neck and let his own grateful release flood his senses.
Afterwards, rather than turning aside, Tobias stayed where he was, sleepy and safe in Meg’s arms. As slumber took him he felt a soft kiss on his temple with the whispered reassurance, “Don’t you worry, dear Tobias. It will all turn out right in the end.”
The next morning as he opened his eyes, the lady had gone and so had his nagging heartache. He felt bright, alert and cheerful as though he had awoken from a bad dream. When he went downstairs, he was even more encouraged to find Tom was still fast asleep, snoring on the settle, lying at such an awkward angle that would ensure a crashing headache when he awoke.
Tobias smiled to himself as he quietly shut the drawing-room door and went to the kitchen to break his fast, for once, ready and eager for the day ahead.
Haven
- 09.01.2023
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