The Journal of a Vicar's Wife Read Online Free

forth armed with God’s Word tomorrow and offer your sympathies.’
    I knew at that instant he would not be coming to my rooms that night, and that whatever glimmer of approval I had seen in him had died, almost as certainly as had the Richards child.
    ‘Of course, I should be most grateful,’ I replied, as gently as I was able.
    I did not attempt conversation again, and we ate in silence. Eventually it was my husband who broke the tedium of the meal.
    ‘I received a letter today,’ he said, and sipped from his wine glass. He delved in his jacket pocket and extracted a creased correspondence.
    ‘Indeed? From whom?’ I asked, placing down my fork.
    ‘My cousin, Mr Jonathan Reeves,’ he said, studying my face for some sort of reaction.
    ‘Oh,’ I responded and, felt a little sick upon hearing the name.
    Frederick frowned. ‘He has been asked to take his father’s position working with Lord Stanton in assisting with the tenants. He requests that we may be able to house him on those occasions he comes to Wiltshire.’
    I hesitated. ‘Oh,’ I repeated.
    Frederick’s face softened a little. ‘Knowing as I do your former attachment to my cousin, I am asking if this suitable. If not, I shall speak with Lord Stanton himself, and see if we can find some other alternative accommodation for Jonathan’s visits to Wiltshire.’
    His concern was touching, and I felt a rare moment of affection for my stiff and unyielding husband.
    ‘My former attachment?’ I murmured and took a gulp of wine.
    ‘Why yes, you did once hope to marry him, did you not?’ he added.
    Yes, it was true. I had wanted to marry Jonathan Reeves once upon a time, indeed, but he was from a terribly impoverished family and with a dowry as modest as mine, our future would never have been a comfortable one. It had been little surprise when my father refused his offer for my hand. It was six years ago now.
    I had naturally been disappointed, but very shortly after Jonathan’s failed offer, my father offered my hand to Frederick, who was in the market for a bride, instead. I had little time to think of him again. My father had been of the belief that my ‘lively nature’ was liable to cause our family disgrace if I did not wed someone more appropriate, and soon. Truly, there was naught I could do but agree to the marriage. Besides, I knew Frederick would make a better match for me. Frederick’s financial situation and social standing as vicar of a wealthy estate made an eminently more desirable prospect than Jonathan’s modest proposal. So, knowing that it was a good match, I accepted and we were hastily wed.
    ‘Mrs Reeves?’ Frederick asked. His tone had grown stern.
    ‘Yes of course, I wanted to marry him once, but that was years ago!’ I said brightly. ‘Now I have you, and couldn’t be more pleased,’ I lied.
    Frederick smiled a little sadly at that. ‘Shall I let him know that you would welcome his visit as much as I?’
    ‘Of course,’ I nodded. ‘Is he married then?’ I asked, having not seen him for some time and being very much isolated from the London scene in Wiltshire.
    ‘No, I do not believe so.’
    I bit my lip to stem a flutter of excitement that had begun to grow in my belly. When I’d known Jonathan, I had been young and an innocent. After his failed marriage offer, I’d been hastily wed off lest word of my affections for the impoverished gentleman spread. Thus, now, I am no innocent, but a married woman. I know much of the world and how it functions. I am of the heartfelt opinion that having another gentleman in the house could be exciting, and an entirely pleasant change from the endlessly dull sermons given by my husband.
    ‘Well, no doubt he may find one of the girls in the village to his liking. Mrs Davis’ daughters are very amenable girls, and very skilled,’ I said.
    ‘You wish to be his match-maker?’ My husband’s voice was amused.
    ‘I don’t see why not. Mrs Davis’ husband is from a very fine old