Read The Vicar's Frozen Heart Online
Authors: Karyn Gerrard
As Tremain stood before his congregation, his nerves jangled as if he were facing a tribe of Zulus. If any villagers overheard the exchange outside the pub a few days ago, none of them said anything nor did he hear whispers.
All were singing the final hymn of the service,
Praise my Soul, the Kingdom of Heaven
. As the organist wheezed out the final chords, Tremain raised his hand to halt their departure.
“A moment of your time, please. I wish to announce I will be stepping down immediately as priest of this parish.” A low rumble moved through the crowd. “Mr. Dibley has already found a suitable replacement, a young man of good and pious character eager to serve, and he has my blessing. I hope next week you will welcome Reverend Lucien Stephens warmly. As for myself, I stand humbly before you to ask forgiveness. I did not present myself honestly to you all.”
Tremain hesitated, every pair of eyes in the church were riveted on him. “I came here a damaged and broken veteran of the Anglo-Zulu War. When I reached my age of majority it was intended I enter the church, but I turned to the army instead. How appropriate at the lowest ebb of my life that I turned back to my faith. And you welcomed me regardless of my demeanor. Though I am a clergyman, I did not reveal the rest of my name or identity. I stand before you, Tremain Bennett Colson Hornsby, Viscount Hawkestone, second son of the Duke of Gransford.”
Shocked gasps rose from the crowd, then the church grew eerily silent. Tremain cleared his throat. Sweat ran down the valley of his spine, but he continued, “I intend to take up my seat as viscount and landlord if it is in your good graces to allow me to do so. I wish nothing more than to continue to serve this village and the surrounding area. I pray for God’s strength, kindness, and forgiveness, and the continued health and happiness of you all. Thank you.”
He clasped his cane, and slowly stepped down from the pulpit. Each time his cane hit the floor, a thump reverberated through the small church as he made his way down the aisle. The impact of his deception hit him hard. He’d played with other’s lives to soothe his own. He passed the first pew, the men touched their forelocks and murmured, “My lord.” The women said the same, only they curtsied. Most gave him warm smiles. Tremain’s eyes grew moist. As he headed down the aisle, he saw the front door close, but not before he caught a glimpse of a gray cloak. Was Eliza here? Surely he imagined it.
While he stood at the open doors, the organist played another hymn and the congregation exited the church. Jacob Treacher held out his hand and Tremain took it. “Thank you, your lordship. For everything you’ve done both as vicar and as viscount. The gifts of food, seed, and benevolence will not be forgotten. I welcome you to Hawksgreen, Viscount Hawkestone.”
Tremain shook his hand. It was hard to keep the emotion from his voice. “Thank you, Jacob. I plan to work closely with Mr. Stephens and Mr. Dibley to see to the continued care of my tenants and all who live nearby.”
Many men standing in close proximity nodded their heads in agreement. As the last of his parishioners drifted away, Tremain stood humbled by their forgiveness and compassion. Would his family and those of his own class be as merciful? His family, yes. The rest of society? Unlikely. Eliza? No, and he could not blame her. She would be leaving and her upcoming departure left a gaping hole in his heart that would never mend. But he loved her enough to let her go.
* * * *
Eliza ran the entire way back to the manor. When she heard from Mr. Dibley that Tremain was going to inform the congregation of his identity, she could not stay away. She slipped in during the final moments of the service and witnessed his deeply felt plea for forgiveness. She had to admit it touched her heart. He looked magnificent in the white and black robes. Watching him limp down the aisle as the villagers gave him the respect he deserved nearly caused her heart to burst with pride and she escaped his view before he saw her hovering at the back of the church.
Regardless, this did not change her mind. It merely solidified her reasons for departing. Watching everyone say ‘my lord’ proved it. Breathlessly, she stepped across the threshold of the front entrance. She should be using the back and she should have at least knocked, but her mind whirled with all manner of conflicting emotions.
In haste, she sprinted past Treves, only to have Mr. Dibley step in her path. “May I speak with you a moment, Miss Winston? In the study?”
Reluctantly, she followed him into the room and he closed the door, then motioned her to sit before the desk. “Miss Winston, Eliza--if ever there was a flawed, stubborn man, it is Tremain. I should know, as we grew up together.” He sat in his chair and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the surface of the desk. “I told him from the beginning his plan and the deception could in fact hurt others as well as himself. But he would not hear it. His sincere desire to atone for whatever happened in South Africa overrode all logical thought. I could not deny him his request and nor could his family. He pleaded with us, stating his very soul was in jeopardy. How could we refuse?”
“He...he told me what happened in South Africa.”
Mr. Dibley sat back, his look incredulous. “Did he, indeed? Then you surely reached him, for none of us could persuade him to confide. I am glad he told someone and doubly glad it was you.”
She pulled off her gloves. “Mr. Dibley...”
“Please, call me Jon.”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Jon, the fact remains he did not tell me of his true self. But beyond that, you must know there can be nothing between us.”
Jon shrugged. “I know of no such thing. Why? Because you are supposedly beneath him, according to society? Those who care about you and Tremain will make no such distinctions.”
“But his family, the duke...”
“Are delightful people. I lost my mother at a young age; there was only my father and I. He is steward to the duke, and I was given free run of the house and grew up with Tremain and his two brothers, Spencer and Harrison. I attended university with Tremain, all paid by the duke. Never was I made to feel as a servant, but rather part of the family. Believe me when I tell you, they would welcome you with open arms.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe such a fairy tale. A lump of emotion lodged in her throat. All of this was so confusing; her mind swirled with conflicting thoughts.
What to do?
“Shall I tell you how accepting the duke and his family are? Spencer has announced he is to be married. The lady in question ran a brothel.”
Her eyes widened. “A brothel? Truly?”
He nodded. “Not an ideal wife for the son of a duke, but the family would accept any woman Spencer chose, regardless of background. They haven’t met her as yet, but if Spencer loves her, then that is enough for them. The Hornsbys are a rare sort to be found in the aristocracy. They are rich and powerful, but believe in service and assisting those less fortunate. Nor are they judgmental.” He gave her a warm smile. “They would accept you. Talk with Tremain. If you truly wish to have a future with him, I am afraid you may have to make the first overture, knowing his stubborn nature as I do. Think on it. None of us want you to leave. Tremain most of all, though he may not show it.” Jon laughed gently. “Since we were lads he’s always done that. If anything overwhelmed him, he retreated behind his mask of remoteness. Surely you are aware that at the core, Tremain is not a cold man.”
She dashed away the tear that trickled down her cheek. “No, he is not cold. I will think on what you said.” She stood. “I must see to the arrangements for Drew’s birthday celebration.” At the door, she turned back and gave Jon a warm smile. “Thank you. You are a true friend. To both of us.”
* * * *
By late afternoon, everyone had arrived for Drew’s birthday celebration. Eliza’s breath caught when Tremain walked in the room. He no longer wore his collar and black coat, but instead dressed in a fashionable brown suit that bespoke his status as an aristocrat. Their eyes met only a few times, and she stayed well away from him before and during the dinner, as she still had much to think about. And gazing at him merely bewildered her more.
The food was delicious, and it warmed Eliza’s heart to see people from different classes talking freely and enjoying a meal together. Mrs. Hughes brought in the chocolate cake and sat it in front of a smiling Drew. Everyone sang
For
He’s a Jolly Good Fellow
and clapped at the end when Drew blew out the ten candles on the cake.
Eliza smiled warmly. “Now, Drew. You have a choice before you. Would you like to open your gifts first or have the cake?”
“Gifts first, please.”
Everyone laughed and moved to the parlor. Eliza sat next to Drew and handed him the parcels. She glanced about the room to find Tremain leaning on his cane, standing well back from the others, his heated gaze firm on her. Fissions of awareness swept across her skin. She looked away.
The Tompkinses and the servants banded together to give Drew a beautiful set of toy soldiers. Jon Dibley gave him a set of fine marbles. Eliza gave him two books,
The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe
and
The Rose and the Ring
, adventure stories sure to appeal to a boy of ten years of age. All eyes turned to Tremain, who stepped forward. Drew looked up at him.
“I have a gift for you, Drew. At least I hope you will see it as a gift. The main reason I became a priest was to help others. But perhaps I only made things worse.”
Drew shook his head emphatically. “No. You didn’t. You helped my mum. She told me if it wasn’t for you and the viscount, she would’ve been lost. You helped me. I have a home now. Friends. You helped Miss Winston. She told me you saved her from robbers. I’m glad you’re The Hawk...and the vicar.” Drew beamed up at him and Eliza’s heart clenched in her chest.
Tremain laid a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “Thank you. My gift is I wish to adopt you and for you to become my son. You can even have my name, but only if you wish.”
Drew’s brows furrowed. “What is your name?”
“Tremain Bennett Colson Hornsby. But perhaps you do not wish to give up your name.”
“Andrew Hornsby.” Drew mulled it over. “I like it. The name Payne is not really mine. My mum told me once she picked it because all her life she suffered nothing but pain. ‘Except you, my dear one,’ she’d said. So I’d just as soon take yours, Vicar. I mean...your lordship...what do I call you?”
Eliza was enraptured by the conversation between Drew and Tremain, and in glancing about the room, she observed everyone else was as well.
“For now you may call me Tremain. Or my friends call me Trey. Or uncle...”
“Uncle Trey. I like that. Someday...can I call you...father?”
Tremain visibly swallowed, his eyes glittered. “Whenever you are ready…son,” he replied, his voice hoarse with emotions.
Drew looked at Tremain. “I’ve never had a father.”
Tremain smiled. “Well, you have one now.”
Drew threw his arms around Tremain’s waist and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. As everyone headed back to the dining room for cake, Tremain gently gripped Eliza’s wrist, halting her.
“Can you give me a few moments?” he murmured.
“Yes.” Her heart stuttered in her chest at his touch. Apprehension rolled through her as she was not in any frame of mind for a serious conversation.
He let his hand drop. “I ask you not to resign. Not yet, at any rate. Tonight I am heading south to my family’s estate in Hastings. I sent telegrams to all of them a few days ago and we are having a reunion of sorts, except for my brother Spence. I have not seen my family since I came here. I pushed them away as I did everyone else and I have amends to make.” His voice was officious and detached. Very well, she could do the same. Unfortunately, she was as stubborn as he was.
“I am not sure what that has to do with me,” she replied coolly.
“It is in Drew’s best interest to have you remain as his governess. If that means I stay away from Hawksgreen and the estate, it can be arranged.” Again, he gave her his best frosty tone.
She blinked at him in shock. “But you told the villagers you would be taking up your duties here.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “So it was you I saw leaving the church.” Eliza flushed but did not speak. “Regardless, I can easily see to my duties from Hastings. It’s not that far and communication is possible through letters and telegraphs. Besides, I need time away. For what exactly, I am not sure. Perhaps it is to allow people to become used to the new priest. Or perhaps I need to become used to the idea that the vicar and viscount are the same person. I need to come to terms with what I have done before, during, and most decidedly after the war.” He took her hand, his thumb rubbing across the top, causing heat to spread throughout her body. “I am sorry you were subjected to Lady Trimly. She is a part of my sordid past I would rather forget. I ask one thing from you. If you decide to stay for Drew, please do not dismiss what is between us. There could be much more.” The coldness from his voice had all but disappeared.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe there can be. There are too many obstacles. But I will stay for now. For Drew.”
Tremain kissed her hand and let it go. Without a word, he left the room. How she wanted to cry out for him not to leave her. Ever. How she wanted him to say he loved her. But he didn’t. And because of that, she could not say the words to him.
Tremain lounged in his favorite chair in the drawing room of his spacious family home. A cold cup of tea and a plate of half-eaten beefsteak sandwiches sat on the table next to him. He’d been at Gransford Manor for close to three weeks and in that time moved no closer to a solution or decision regarding the rest of his life.
One thing he did realize: he had made an error keeping his family at arm’s length. Growing up, Gransford Manor was alive with rough-and-tumble boys running through the halls. He, his brothers, and Jon were not quite ill-behaved; they were brought up better than that, but his parents allowed them to be children. He soon discovered that was a rarity when he visited the staid homes of some of the lads from school.