Chapter Four

B y the time Thomas had led the small party through the meadow, the only thing occupying his mind was the subtle scent of lilies of the valley that wafted from Miss Hasting's direction, as well as how fetching she looked with the crown of daisies upon her blonde head.

"I haven't seen you at Sunday services recently," he said as a way to introduce a conversation while Penny chattered about everything and anything at his side.

The dulcet sound of her soft laughter sent awareness skittering over his skin. "That is due to the fact that I haven't attended church in years."

"Ah." How interesting. "Did you have a bad experience in the past, or do you not believe in God's love?"

"That is a difficult question that doesn't require an either-or answer." Every once in a while, she would lift the hem of her skirting to avoid taller weeds or the occasional stick that poked up from the ground. The tantalizing glimpse of her stocking-clad ankles captivated his mind. "Suffice it to say I have never found church services all that stimulating and would much rather spend that time doing something I enjoy."

"I am sorry to hear that, for I strive to write sermons that aren't dull or pompous." When he turned his head and met her gaze, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the deep blue pools of her eyes before he firmly shoved such thoughts away. He wasn't that man any longer.

"You don't seem to have issues filling your church. No doubt it's your looks that help with that and not the content of your sermons." Stated in such a matter-of-fact way, the words took a bit of his confidence. "I'll wager you don't hurt for female companionship."

This was hardly the conversation to have while his nieces were listening. "The congregation has steadily grown in the past few years that I've had the living. I try my best to keep the flock engaged."

Penny tugged on his hand. "Why is it your flock?"

Never one to pass on a learning moment, Thomas grinned. "In the Bible, Jesus referred to his followers as his flock, which is a direct reference to the relationship between a shepherd and his sheep."

The little girl frowned. "You have sheep?"

"In a manner of speaking. It's a parable. Jesus took care of his followers as a shepherd looks after his sheep. If one gets lost, he will search for it and nurture it back to health. Such is the same with me as a vicar and my congregation. I care for my parishioners."

"Oh." She swung his hand. "Is Miss Hasting a part of your flock?"

"I would like her to be, but I will discuss that with her later." Yes, he'd dedicated his life to serving God and his parishioners, he wasn't so taken by zeal like the evangelicals who were gaining a foothold within religion throughout England. He liked to think of his style as somewhere in the moderate middle, employing slight emotion in his sermons and hoping the congregation would join him in his charitable endeavors that looked after widows, orphans, as well as men who returned from war and needed assistance. "However, if you would like to entice Miss Hasting into our flock, you should practice proper behavior."

Penny huffed out a breath. "I will try but I can't promise to behave. It is quite dull."

From his other side, Miss Hasting attempted to quell a snort of laughter, but she was only half successful. "Unfortunately for you, Mr. Alderman, I tend to agree with her."

"Then it is my sworn duty to change your mind, Miss Hasting."

Once more, he glanced at her and was struck by how dainty and feminine the sky-blue dress was, and how it brought out the blue in her eyes and made her skin fairly glow with good health. Though the cut of the dress was modest in deference of attending church, somehow on Miss Hasting, she made it all too seductive, which in many ways was more effective than curve-hugging fabric or a low neckline.

She was sin and scandal—exactly the type of woman he would have pursued in his past life as a rogue.

"Miss Hasting?" This from Lily.

"Yes?"

"Is it proper to wear a daisy crown to tea?"

Miss Hasting briefly glanced at him before settling her attention on the little girl. "I think for today, it is entirely proper and even encouraged, for flowers were made from God and will provide something pretty to brighten up an otherwise ordinary tea."

"Thank you." It was Lily's wide smile and sparkling eyes that tugged at Thomas's heart.

He hadn't seen either of his nieces so animated in a long time indeed. How incredibly fortuitous that Miss Hasting had come into their lives when she did. Would she be amenable to taking a governess position? At the moment, he knew little about her or her family, even if he'd taken tea with her parents a couple of times in the past.

Eventually, the vicarage came into view, and he grinned, for the cottage rested about half a mile away on the other side of the meadow and lay tucked into a stand of woods with a babbling brook that ran through the property.

"Welcome to Hawthorn Cottage, Miss Hasting," he said as he pushed open the door and ushered them up a garden path. The fragrance of many different flowers wafted to his nostrils. The buzz from bees and other insect life that thrived on the blooms provided a pleasant backdrop as they strolled to the house. "It's a quaint and cozy home, quite a different residence than what I was used to in the past."

With a roof made to look like thatch but made of stronger materials and lower ceilings complete with dark beams and a large hearth in the main living room, it had a certain charm about it that made him think of simpler times and easier days than the modern world currently offered.

In the tiny entryway, he paused to hang his top hat on a hook and then took Miss Hasting's bonnet from her fingers and hung it up as well. To the girls, he said, "Go upstairs and ask one of the maids to help you change clothes. I don't know how they will remove the grass stains on those dresses, but I believe in everyday miracles. I shall call you down when it's time for luncheon."

As the girls ran along the narrow corridor to a set of wooden stairs at the back of the cottage, he led Miss Hasting into the room to the left of the hallway, which was a formal parlor where he met with parishioners for tea and talking.

"Please settle yourself, Miss Hasting. If you wish, we can begin the interview straightaway."

"What?" A frown pulled the corners of her lips downward, which only served as a distraction for him. In his former life, he would have used this brief time alone as a thin excuse to steal a kiss. "An interview for what?" But the slight sparkle in her eyes betrayed the fact she already knew.

"For the governess position." He gestured her toward a low sofa. "By the by, since we weren't formally introduced, I'm Mr. Alderman."

"Right. And of course, I'm Miss Hasting." When she perched on the edge of the piece of furniture, Thomas sat in a matching chair near her location. "Perhaps we should start with what you truly thought when you saw me remove your nieces from the church."

Well, she wasn't shy, he'd give her that. With an indulgent chuckle, he leaned back in his chair. "I was alternately pleased and appalled. The girls do have a tendency to interrupt my sermons more often than not, but no other person in the congregation took the initiative like you did." What had prompted that decision? "Why did you take them into the meadow? You could have escorted them home or sat on the bench in the garden of the church."

A faint blush stained her cheeks. "Since I haven't attended services for a few years, I had no idea about the garden, nor did I know where the vicarage was located." She clasped her fingers in her lap. "The meadow seemed a logical place where the girls could run if they wished or entertain themselves with the flowers, and the shade from the trees was quite refreshing."

"I can understand that; the three of you seemed much relaxed when I came upon you." Again, he couldn't help but study her, and in this setting, she was even more alluring. Her blonde upswept hair glimmered with various shades of gold. "Yet even in that, you have shown yourself well-versed and quite comfortable with scandal. You wore no bonnet, took no maid as a chaperone." He shrugged. And she was past the first and second blushes of youth. "What have you to say of that?"

"There is nothing to say. I dislike bonnets and maids trailing after me." When she shrugged, the dress pulled taut briefly across her modest breasts. "Just as I despise society's rules, men with no spine, and everything a lady must do to be considered ‘proper' in the very narrow view of that word."

"Ah." She was well spoken, and he appreciated that. "Have you ever considered taking a paid position as a governess?" Perhaps she didn't wish to dirty her hands with work. "I've met with your parents only a couple of time since taking this living, but from what I could glean, they are nearly in dun territory." Had that crossed a line?

"That is true. The taxes on Landover Manor haven't been paid in years. Eventually, it will be taken from my parents, but my father's faculties are slowly leaving him. There is nothing he can do about either situation." She clasped her fingers more tightly, and as he continued to study her, he caught sight of a small, port-wine birthmark on the inside of her left arm, just above the elbow, that looked like an abstract strawberry. "Our family's circumstances are no secret; it was why we have no longer go to London in recent years, why my sisters and I all live with my parents."

"I'm sorry to hear of your father's health worries. I shall make a point to call on him and your mother soon." Life was always changing and evolving, and he took the concerns of his congregation seriously.

"Thank you." Miss Hasting nodded. "As for my qualifications for a governess position, I was the third daughter and my parents adopted two younger girls. Sometimes, it was required of me to look after them." A tiny giggle snuck into her explanation, and the sound was quite melodious. "To say nothing of the fact that I spent copious time sneaking away from my governesses. This gives me a unique understanding of a child's mind."

"I am familiar with your younger sisters, or at least one of them. Anna, I believe, does odd jobs in the village for some of my parishioners who are unable to get out and about."

"Yes, Anna likes to keep herself busy, and in doing so, she hopes no one will notice her scarred face." Sorrow filled Miss Hasting's eyes. "I fear for their future, for what they went through during the fire that took their parents' lives was horrific."

"Sudden tragedy usually is." He couldn't help but think about what happened in his own life that landed his nieces into his care. "Are you older sisters married?" But what he really wanted to know was why she wasn't.

"Yes." She nodded and then raised her gaze to his. "I suppose you weren't here when Mia married in the spring, and Cora must have asked the old vicar to marry her over a month or so ago." A sigh escaped her. "Before that, they'd taken positions as paid companions in London, which precipitated their meeting their respective husbands."

It was all far too interesting, and he asked the question anyway. "Yet here you are, not married. Why is that? Surely someone would have asked for your hand by now." He chuckled, for how could they not? "You are still young, have your looks, come from a good family, though impoverished. One would think with the recent marriages, more scrutiny would have been put on the remaining and single Hasting sisters."

"Well, that is a disappointment." Annoyance threaded through her voice.

"What? The fact you are not married?"

"No! I'm disappointed that you assume it's the only thing a woman aspires to… marriage, being a mother, keeping a house." She shook her head as fury flashed in her eyes. "Men might have a limited view of the world we live in, but that doesn't mean women don't have other purposes if only they were given a shred of an opportunity." Her voice rose with each sentence. "And those opportunities are severely limited here in the country."

"Easy, Miss Hasting." Thomas put up a hand in surrender. "My apologies. I didn't mean to offend." Although, he now wondered what had happened in her life to make her so defensive.

"Thank you." After taking a deep breath and then releasing it, she continued. "I'm quite content in being a spinster and I enjoy getting into scandal where I can." Her gaze never dropped as she looked at him, and he admired the forthrightness as well. "Societal rules are too stifling and I don't wish to marry, for that would mean my life would no longer be my own. Everything that I have would suddenly belong to him; my individual identity would vanish, and I would become an extension of him." Truth rang in those words, and he'd wager the small amount of coin he had that she'd never admitted such to anyone. "Marrying would give a man too much power over me, and I am not keen on that… unless he wants to do so in the bedroom."

"Ah." The words as well as the images that danced through his mind of her entwined in the sheets of his bed sent heat sailing up the back of his neck as well as racing along his shaft. Though he was wildly embarrassed, he was also on his way to being fully aroused.

On a Sunday morning.

While his nieces played upstairs.

"I will admit, that wasn't the most proper of things to say to a vicar and one who is seeking a governess for his nieces. I apologize. Women's rights and expectations, or lack thereof, is a sore subject for me."

"So I have surmised."

"Good. Just so we are clear on that." When Miss Hasting grinned, his world tilted.

God save me, for she is far too tempting. Yet he ignored every warning alarm that rang in his head to return to the matter at hand. "What subjects are you able to teach with authority for the girls?" Or more to the point, what can you teach me? It would only take one kiss to know…

For one second, she bit her bottom lip before releasing it. Interest flickered in her eyes. "Geography, grammar, reading—I love to read and unfortunately Papa sold off most of our books—I can speak French, a bit of Italian, I remember some Latin from my own school days, but other than that, I'm afraid I'm a dunce. Especially at numbers. Mia was given that gift."

The woman was a spitfire, and suddenly there was a thread of excitement back in his life that he'd been missing ever since taking the living… since his sister and parents died. Thomas nodded. "What of deportment?"

She frowned. "Surely the girls are too young for those lessons."

"I used to think along the same lines, but each month that goes by shows me that they desperately need those lessons." He paused, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers. "They are a viscount's grandchildren, and wards of a vicar. Deportment and at the very least manners are something desperately needed. I'm afraid if you cannot do that, then I cannot in good conscience hire you on—"

"Fine!" Miss Hasting waved a hand. "I shall teach the girls deportment, even though I don't believe in women being so repressed when men can do whatever they like without recrimination."

Oh, dear God, she would prove a handful even without the children. And if he weren't careful, he'd fall back into his wicked ways, the very ones he tried so hard to put behind him.

I must be a fool to even consider letting this woman become a governess.

Slowly, she rose to her feet. "If you intend to hire me, I can walk over to be with the girls by nine each morning—"

"Actually, this is a live-in position, Miss Hasting," he was quick to interrupt as he surged into a standing position. "I am often out visiting my parishioners and involving myself with charities and such. When I am not doing that, then I am studying and working at writing my Sunday sermon. Someone needs to watch the girls and look after them all the time, and my housekeeper has threatened to give notice if she must have the raising of them any longer."

"I see." For a few seconds, it appeared as if she would flee the room, and the way she glanced out the window made him think she valued her freedom, but then she nodded. "What of the living arrangements?"

Thomas cleared his throat, for it only just occurred to him that they would sleep beneath the same roof, and she was clearly not an older woman or a widow, perhaps with a wart on her chin. "The cottage is big enough that we won't be in each other's way." His swallow was audible. "There are two small bedrooms as well as a slightly larger one upstairs that I occupy. You are welcome to the empty one." Fairly tripping over his words, he rushed onward. "If it's too improper, I will sleep in my office down here right off the living area. You can use the attic for a schoolroom."

"The attic?" Another frown turned her pink lips downward. "That space will be terribly hot. It's the summer, and the countryside is beautiful this time of year. When it's not raining, I shall conduct my lessons outside." When she looked at him with those unfathomable blue eyes that glimmered with wicked promise, he should have taken back his offer. "I doubt you will find objection to this, since we should all be admiring and enjoying God's creation, yes?"

"Absolutely we should." Yes, she would be trouble. Far too much tempting, scandalous trouble. Was he strong enough to withstand her charm? Thomas straightened his spine. He was, of course he was. Hadn't he renounced that roguish lifestyle, and hadn't he taken up the reins of being a man of God?

He didn't miss that life at all.

Much.