Chapter Five

July 24, 1817

Hawthorn Cottage

I t had been four days since the vicar had hired her on as governess to his nieces, and three days since she'd been installed in his cottage. Though her home and family were a mere mile's walk away, in some hours it felt as if she were on an island somewhere surrounded by an unfamiliar sea; Gigi had been wildly unprepared for the task before her.

The girls, while sweet and silly most of the time, had hard tendencies to be stubborn and willful at others. Already there had been disagreements between her and them, a few rounds of tempestuous tears on both her part and that of the girls, but there had been lovely moments as well. There would be growing pains from all parties until some sort of schedule could be undertaken.

Above all, Gigi was determined to succeed in the position because her mother had given her a parting lecture and an admonition to behave herself, for the village didn't need her leading either the vicar or his nieces into scandal. If that happened, it might be the final rumor that broke her father's spirit.

Since it was a Wednesday, apparently the vicar was out visiting various widows throughout the village and its surrounds. He dropped off baskets of foodstuffs and checked on the older folks to make certain they were doing well. That meant Gigi was alone with the girls, so she asked the housekeeper to pack them a picnic lunch and then she took the children outside in search of a small pond she remembered from her own childhood.

"Where are we going?" Penny was content to walk alongside Gigi, for any day they weren't in a classroom was an adventure to her.

"To a pond."

"Why?"

"Do you remember the paper boats we made before leaving the house?" It was a skill she'd gleaned years ago from her father, when he'd taken her and her sisters out to the same pond to sail the same boats.

"Yes." Befuddlement lay stamped over the girl's face.

"Well, we are going to sail the boats. It's fine weather for it, don't you think?"

"I suppose…" Penny frowned. "But what will that teach us?"

Gigi shrugged. "That you should enjoy the sunshine while you have it. That being outside makes a person much more likely to feel thankful for God than sitting in an uncomfortable church pew, that we will identify at least five species of flowers on our walk to and from the pond, that if we're fortunate, we might find both a toad and a frog so you can see the difference between the two." Gigi turned her head and winked at the girl. "And that if there is no wind, our boats won't be able to traverse the surface of the pond, proving it doesn't take as much skill to sail as pirates wish us to believe."

Penny's lips formed an o of awe. Then she nodded. "You are quite wise, Miss Hasting."

"I don't know about that." But she did have experience in not being a proper lady, so perhaps it was the same thing. She glanced at Lily. "What say you, Lily? Does sailing paper boats sound like fun?"

"I would rather make flower wreaths again." As she spoke, the girl plucked a bloom from the grass. "May we do that?"

"Of course. The afternoon is for the full enjoyment of the outside world."

And perhaps it would prevent Gigi from thinking about the vicar who was more handsome than he had a right to be. Never in her life had she held an interest in a man of the cloth, but there was something about him that stirred awareness of him as a man. Did she desire him? Oh, yes. Did she want to find out if she could perhaps seduce him into scandal? Very much so, but as of yet, she hadn't decided how to do that without jeopardizing her position. Unintentionally, she'd grown fond of the girls, and felt for their circumstances.

They arrived at the pond in short order, and as soon as the paper boats were placed upon the water, they sailed for a few feet before the water saturated them and they started to sink, but what held Gigi's attention were the pair of brown geese and an errant white swan who currently sauntered toward her.

"Perhaps we should keep moving," she told the girls in a low voice. It was that she didn't like waterfowl, but she didn't trust them.

Lily moved behind her. "Will they hurt us?"

"I don't believe so." It was past time for either of the species to sit on eggs, and it didn't appear there were young goslings or cygnets about, but that didn't mean they weren't hiding. No matter how many steps away from the birds she took, the three of them continued to follow while making low sounds of interest instead of umbrage. "Move away slowly if you'd like, and I'll see if I can distract them."

As the girls moved a few feet ahead, the geese and the swan merely eyed them with boredom, but the second Gigi took a few steps forward, the birds followed. The geese made soft honking noises, and when she tried running ahead of the girls, the waterfowl came right along with her at a fast clip.

"Well, I guess we know who they're interested in," she said with a wry grin, much to the children's amusement. Many giggles ensued. Heat filled her cheeks. "What do I do now?"

Penny snorted. "Make the best of it, Miss Hasting."

"Perhaps I should, but in the meanwhile, let us lay down our blankets in a shady spot and I'll let you make daisy chains again. Then we'll have our picnic."

The tasks were accomplished, and a large oak tree provided more than enough shade. She let the girls remove their shoes and stockings so they could put their feet into the very edges of the pond while hunting for amphibians while Gigi watched them from the relative safety of the blankets. Apparently agreeing with the need for some relaxation, the pair of geese took up a position off to one side and settled in for a nap. The swan returned to the water, but kept paddling nearby, and occasionally, it would look over to make certain Gigi was still there.

How truly odd.

As the middle of the day progressed, the sun made them all drowsy. Eventually, the girls returned to the campsite. Bread, cheese, and fruit was passed around, as was cold chicken and ham, and bottles of lemonade. Afterward, everyone partook of jam tarts and a few tiny seed cakes the housekeeper had tucked into the basket, for they were Lily's favorite.

"Mama used to enjoy these cakes," the little girl said into the silence, as she lounged on her belly and nibbled at the last cake.

"Did she?" Gigi held her breath. Would she wish to speak of her parents?

"Yes." Lily nodded. She frowned as she focused on Gigi's face. "I miss her."

"There is nothing wrong with that." She folded her legs at the knee, tucked them beneath her skirting, and offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "From what I have heard from your uncle, it's been a year since you lost your parents." It wasn't a question.

Penny nodded and spoke before her sister could. "I didn't like that time."

"I can imagine you did not." When she reached for the girl's hand, Penny shied away. Which was expected, for they didn't know each other all that well. "What did you like most about your parents?"

"They always laughed and smiled."

"That's a lovely memory." Life was always better when the people around a person were laughing instead of grouchy. "It's the silence that is confusing when you're used to talking and laughing."

"Our grandparents died with Mama and Papa," Penny confided in a soft voice with a frown. She focused her gaze on the lemonade bottle in her hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gigi asked. "It might help you feel better."

The girl nodded. "Uncle Thomas told us they had been traveling on a road that had many curves. A dog darted in front of their carriage from somewhere in the countryside."

"Oh, no." Gigi glanced at the younger girl, who had a trace of tears in her eyes.

Penny nodded. "He said the driver swerved. The horses spooked, though. The driver fell off the box, then the horse ran away with the carriage." A waver sounded in her voice. "It crashed into some trees at the side of the road."

"I can imagine what happened next. You needn't tell me."

The girl's chin trembled. "It is just a story now. Mama and Papa died straightaway. Grandmother died later from the wounds. Grandfather died shortly after returning home." She was such a mature young lady, far older than her years as she told the succinct story.

Gigi's heart went out to both of them. "Were you there with them?"

"No." Penny shook her head. She brushed at a tear that had fallen to her cheek. "Me and Lily were too young to go up to London, so we stayed behind in the country."

She didn't have the heart to correct the grammar. "I'm so sorry."

The girl sniffled. "I wanted to tell Mama goodbye, but I never saw her again."

"Alive?"

"Ever." She shook her head. "Uncle Thomas wouldn't let me see her or them."

"Ah." No doubt he felt the bodies were too battered and bloody for two small girls to look upon, but in doing that, there had been no firm closure.

"Miss Hasting?" Lily crawled close to Gigi.

"Yes?"

"Do you think they hurt before they died?" Sadness flooded the little girl's green eyes.

"Uh…" What to tell her? She didn't want to lie, for life would teach them enough. "Since it was an accident, I am not certain, but you can be sure that God kept them from the worst of it."

I hope.

Penny put her lemonade bottle back in the basket before she too crawled over to Gigi's location. "Do you think they were afraid?"

These were deep questions she had no answers to either, but the girls stared at her with expectation, and she couldn't let them down. "I believe your parents were not afraid. They were with each other, so that made them very happy, and I also believe that whatever happened, it was swift, so there was no time for fear. In fact, your father probably hugged your mother in comfort." At least she liked to hope that had been true.

Except Lily seemed far too upset, so Gigi took the smaller girl into her lap.

"Do you think they thought about us in those moments, Miss Hasting?"

"I…" Gigi swallowed hard. "I'm certain of it. Who wouldn't think about two little girls they loved to the moon and back?" Perhaps her frivolous life hadn't served her as well as it probably should have. Why did she ever think she was qualified enough to be a governess? For the first time, she realized the responsibilities therein were quite large. "If you like, you can both tell them goodbye right now."

Penny frowned. "How? Uncle Thomas says they are buried in a churchyard."

The vicar needed to have lessons in tact.

"Well, in some cultures around the world, there are memorial ceremonies where loved ones are remembered each year, sometimes by putting flowers and wreathes in the water and watching the waves carry them away. It's peaceful and meaningful." She held Lily close. "When you lay the wreath or flowers into the water, you say a prayer or simply talk to your departed loved one. It's best to remember good times you had with them, remember what their laughter sounds like, how their eyes looked when they smiled." When her voice wavered, she cleared her throat. "In that way, you keep them close to your heart."

Lily's eyes rounded. "Can we talk to them whenever we want?"

"Of course." Gigi flashed her a grin. "Think of it like talking to God. You say prayers, correct?" Both girls nodded. "Then this is the same concept. Your parents will always watch over you, and I know they would both be very proud of the young ladies you will grow to be."

Penny tugged on one of Gigi's hands. "Might we put our wreaths in the pond?"

"That is a fine idea." No sooner had they reached the water's edge than the pair of geese followed them over. The swan was quite interested in the flowers, for it kept nipping at the blooms, much to the delight and chagrin of the little girls. "If this keeps up, we might have to invite our feathered friends into the schoolroom."

"We can't do that, Miss Hasting! They will poop on the floor!" A string of giggles followed Lily's statement.

"No, I don't suppose we can." The longer she watched the flower crowns floating on the pond's surface, the more maudlin she grew. Her father would no doubt die soon from his deteriorating faculties, and her mother's health grew more frail with each passing month, no doubt from worrying over her father.

What will I do once Papa dies?

It hadn't been well done of her to treat her father with haughty annoyance over his missteps that had led to the unpaid taxes, especially when he didn't have much time left. Emotion rose in her throat. For the first time since her sisters were forced to take paying positions, she let herself feel the emotions she'd been hiding from.

"Everything is just a mess," she whispered to herself. Though it was embarrassing, she began to cry. "I am not ready to lose my father."

"Are you well, Miss Hasting?" Penny asked with slight alarm in her eyes.

"More or less." But she was glad for the support when both girls gave her quick hugs. "Perhaps we should gather our things and head home." It wasn't good to show such emotion, and if she didn't regain control, she'd become a watering pot in front of her charges. "It's nearly time for tea, regardless. Your uncle is expecting us."

At least seeing him would cheer her.

*

Dear heavens, he smells so good.

Like a mix of clover and how the meadow grass smelled just after a rain and something unidentifiable but delicious that had awareness of the vicar racing over her skin. When she glanced at him from over the rim of her teacup, he grinned, and the gesture danced in his gray eyes. Heat twisted down her spine, and she couldn't help but return the smile.

"I'm glad the three of you had a lovely time this afternoon," he said with a look that encompassed both her and the girls. "It isn't exactly Godly of me, but I find myself envious of that. While you were soaking in the sunshine and enjoying a picnic lunch, I was inside having countless meetings with the poor in the area."

"Everyone has a place in the world, Mr. Alderman. No one is more important than another," Gigi said, and followed it up with a sip of tea.

"Agreed. It takes many hearts to do the Lord's work, to bring comfort to those who have none." He nodded. "I feel the girls will learn much from your lead."

"I'm not sure about that." Though heat filled her cheeks. The praise was unexpected and provoked a smile. She let the girls chatter on to him, feeding him little snippets of how they had spent their day, and when it became obvious they were drooping, she set her teacup in its saucer and laid them both on the low table. "Come, girls. I think you are due for some quiet time."

"What does that mean?" Penny wanted to know. She'd long ago finished her repast.

"It means for the next hour, you are to stay in your room. You can play with your toys, take a nap, sit quietly and draw—whatever you wish—but it's time to rest your minds and your bodies. It's something that is important to practice now, for you will need it as you grow." Standing, she encompassed them both in her gaze. "After that, you'll feel refreshed for your last lesson of the day—painting."

A half hour later, Gigi returned to the parlor where the vicar was finishing up his second cup of tea while reading a copy of The Times that was at least a week old.

He glanced up, folded the paper, and then set it down. "Are the girls settled?"

"They are." She perched on the chair she'd vacated before. It sat near enough to his position that she could enjoy his presence without needing to steal glances. "It is something I'm adamant about. Just because they are children doesn't mean they don't deserve time to themselves at some point in the day."

"I envy them. Even an hour to myself each day would be welcome, and a nap, certainly." His chuckle sent shivers along her spine. "Now, since you needn't be strong in front of them, tell me why you are so sad just now."

"What?" When he remained silent with a raised eyebrow, she asked, "How do you know I am?"

"It's easy enough. Your eyes don't sparkle." As he shrugged, embarrassment went through his expression. "Though I do not know you well, I am a vicar. It is part of my training to discern the moods of the people in my flock."

"Flock." A giggle that could become hysterical if she wasn't careful escaped Gigi's throat, and she felt much like Lily. "Interesting you chose that word."

His sensuous lips tugged downward with a frown. "I don't understand."

"I had a bit of a to-do with some birds this afternoon, where a pair of geese and a swan took a liking to me." As briefly as she could, she told him what happened during the picnic, but she doubted he believed her, for he looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

"You are upset over waterfowl?"

"Not at all." Another giggle left her throat then she wiped at her eyes that had teared again. "I suppose I'm upset over my father's health. You see, the girls told me about their parents this afternoon, and how they missed them. There were also a few questions."

"Ah. They are young yet; I didn't anticipate it would be difficult."

"It is, and a delicate situation yet, but we worked through it." She told him about the flower crowns and the pond. "I hope you don't mind that I'm teaching them about other cultures. It is something I find fascinating, and I read about such things every chance I have." With a small shrug, she grinned. "You might think me spoiled or too outspoken, but every now and again, I like to feel there are things beyond my ken that learning about will make me… better. That I need to believe there is something bigger than me out there."

That was something she'd never admitted to anyone before, for fear her parents would lecture and tell her it wasn't something a proper lady should do.

"While that is a lovely sentiment, you haven't told me why you are sad." Compassion reflected in his eyes. "And no. I don't mind you are teaching the girls such things. The world is indeed larger than what they'll experience in England."

She nodded and then sighed. "Suffice it to say, my home situation is constantly changing, Mr. Alderman."

"I think it is perfectly acceptable when we are alone if you refer to me as Thomas."

"Oh!" What an unexpected boon. "Then you may refer to me as Genevieve, or Gigi if you'd rather." She pressed her lips together, and flutters went through her belly when his gaze briefly dropped to her mouth. "My father's mind is rapidly leaving him. Because of worry, my mother is growing weaker. I expect that soon he'll leave us." Emotion rose in her throat. "I should drop by and visit them, to tell them how this first week has gone. Perhaps on Sunday afternoon." It was her one day off each week.

"I would be happy to go with you, to meet with them as well. Offer spiritual comfort if I can." There was no ulterior motive in his voice or attitude.

"Thank you." For long moments, she clasped her hands in her lap. "I suppose I don't enjoy change. I don't want anything to happen to my parents or my family, and when my two older sisters left, that change was inevitable. It is still happening now that they've married."

"Do you resent them for that?"

"For finding love?

"Of course not." She frowned. "But I am a bit annoyed they're out living their lives while the rest of us are here, stuck in the country, while Mama and Papa march toward the grave." Knowing that made her seem unfeeling, Gigi quickly rushed onward. "I don't begrudge them the love or the husbands; all of that is fine enough in its place, but I do resent their freedom."

To a point. After all, they were married.

"That is understandable." Thomas nodded. "None of us can avoid change. It is how we grow and mature. How we move from one waypoint in life to the next." The sound of his voice was as comforting as a favorite blanket. "It was difficult for me when I lost four family members at the same time."

"I imagine that was a horrid shock; there was no warning like there is with my parents."

"Indeed. I'm a fourth child and you are a third. There was always someone else responsible for things so we wouldn't need to dirty our hands in them." He rubbed a hand along the side of his face. "Now I've taken on this huge responsibility of having children. Honestly, I don't believe I will be a good father figure for them."

"Why not? They adore you."

He shrugged. "It isn't something I ever thought I would have in my life. I live in terror I won't raise them right, and then someone will blame me."

"Ah." Gigi offered him a genuine smile. "Thus the reason you don't want them to become hoydens."

"Among other things." When he grinned, butterflies danced through her belly.

"Then you hired the wrong woman for a governess. There are a few escapades in my past that would put heat in your cheeks."

"Ha! You sound much like me. I sowed many wild oats in my day." His eyes sparkled with remembered mischief. "I was quite the rogue since there weren't expectations for me."

In that moment, they understood much about each other without needing to speak of it. "I suppose we both need to mature, and frankly, you have already done so. The difference being, I don't want to."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Sooner or later, responsibilities come at us, and we can't avoid them."

"I suppose." With a sigh, Gigi let herself sink into a glum mood. "It's a bit frightening."

"Perhaps life is supposed to be."

She frowned. "Why? I thought you, as a man of the cloth, would want everything pleasing and ensconced in happiness."

"Perhaps some churches might teach that, but I am also realistic." That grin would soon be her downfall. "If we were always content, we would never grow or change, and both are vital to our futures." When he leaned forward, Thomas rested his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands. "Every life has seasons, and within those seasons, there are sparkling jewels of experiences both good and bad. We cannot enjoy one without the other to temper it."

That made sense. "I'm feeling… restless. Have been for the last several months, and I don't know why."

"It is because you are preparing for change."

That thought made her giggle. "Like a caterpillar into a butterfly?"

"Indeed. You can teach the girls biology. Another positive." Again, he grinned, and she almost vibrated off her chair with need.

"I'm not all that strong on the squishy bits or how flowers reproduce."

"There is plenty of time to learn, hmm?" When he laughed, gooseflesh chased over her skin. "Don't worry over the future, Genevieve. It will come soon enough, whether we are ready for it or not."

"That is exactly what I'm afraid of." Needing something to do, Gigi pushed to her feet. He scrambled to his. "You are calm about this because of fate."

"Or God's plan, however your perspective on that is." Thomas shrugged. "Live in the present. Make an impression and memories. Do the most good that you can. Every step will help you grow."

It was both comforting and confusing to speak with him. "What if I'm not good enough for a better life? What if this ," she gestured with a hand to indicate her life, "is all there is for me? This feeling alone even when I'm with people?" Never had she admitted to anyone before. It felt… freeing.

"Then talk to God about it. Talk to me about it. I'll try to help, but I'm not perfect either."

For long moments, Gigi stared at him before she nodded. "There is something to be said for finding the imperfections in life." But his looks were not one of them, for he was utter perfection, as if the Creator had spent extra time with him. And then she couldn't help it. She closed the distance, laid a hand on his cheek, threw commonsense to the wind. With a smile, she lifted onto her toes and fit her lips to his.

Shock immediately filled his expression. The dear vicar stood stock still with wide eyes as he watched her with at least a hand's width of space between them.

Oh, I shouldn't have done that. Gigi pulled away. "I apologize. I don't know what I was thinking in kissing you."

"No harm done." His eyes darkened, and a wicked gleam appeared deep in the depths. "In fact, it was rather pleasant. Enough to warrant further research." Thomas put a hand to the small of her back, tugged her closer, and then claimed her lips with his.

A heady rush came over her, and as he introduced himself to her through kisses, Gigi slipped her palms up his chest to hold his shoulders as she matched his overtures. Each movement over her mouth was like a symphony. His lips were both soft but firm, and more to the point, he certainly knew how to kiss to leave the most impact. Within the embrace, possibilities lingered, and suddenly the idea of seducing him was closer than she'd thought. Every second she was in his arms was simply… glorious.

What a waste he'd gone to the Church instead of remaining a rogue, except if he hadn't come to the country, she would never have met him, or never would have discovered how delicious this man truly was.

When something crashed against the floor upstairs, they sprang apart. Breathless, Gigi stared at him with heat in her cheeks and her heartbeat racing. "Uh… I'd better check on the girls."

"Right." He nodded as ruddy color rose up his neck above his collar. "I have a sermon to finish."

Not knowing what else to do, Gigi ran from the room, and as she gained the staircase, she grinned. Oh, but she wasn't nearly finished with him , for that kiss simply hadn't been enough. It woke something prowly and hungry within her that she wanted to explore.

Would he be willing to pursue scandal with her? That remained to be seen, and she couldn't wait to start.