Chapter Fourteen

Late on the morning after their fateful dinner at Grosvenor Square, Francis stared into the flames in his fireplace and wiped a hand over his face. How could he turn down his brother-in-law's gift of the Everslie living in Hampshire? Even though it broke his heart to leave Clarissa.

That would be ungrateful of him and a catastrophic decision for his future, not to mention that he would lose Jonathan's goodwill in the process.

Besides, he was without income and had little prospect of employment in London.

And yet, Clarissa was adamant that she could not leave London because of her career and the presence of her newly discovered father.

When he moved, he would do so alone.

One good thing that had come from the inquisition yesterday morning was that Fanny and her father could do no more damage to his career than they had already achieved. Mrs. Jenkins, Travener, and even Marchmere, however, remained as threats to Clarissa in the future, from whom he would need to protect her until they found another target.

Last night he believed he had no choice but to put distance between them to protect his heart. It would be hard enough to cope once they were apart, even having spent so little time in each other's arms. How much worse would it be if he had given in to his heart's wish and spent another night with the woman he loved?

After he had experienced a sad and lonely night sleeping in his sitting room again, following renewal of the terms of their marriage as one of convenience, Clarissa had left for her father's leased townhouse in Soho. His heart ached already, as the silence of his previously pleasant home had turned unwelcoming and bleak.

Somehow, he must find a way to restore their marriage to what it was before their breakup. But, as there were so many forces against them, that outcome seemed unlikely. Clarissa must stay in London for her career and to spend time with her father.

He wanted to stay in London to protect Clarissa from her aunt and Travener, but as he had no prospect of work in the church here, he must leave the capital. Wales, the bishop had suggested! The only sensible place to go was the living in Hampshire that Dalton offered.

He didn't want to be separated from Clarissa for one minute, let alone by hundreds of miles. Even returning to living a marriage of convenience under the same roof was heartbreaking to contemplate.

Nevertheless, he must talk with Jonathan to resolve the matter of the living.

***

Within the hour, Francis was announced to Jonathan in his study at Dalton House. His brother-in-law rose from his chair and strode around his oak desk to shake Francis's hand.

"I hope I'm not imposing on your morning?"

"No, I'm glad to see you," Jonathan said, with a smile and a firm shake of his hand. "How can I assist?"

"I need to talk with you about the Everslie living."

"Of course, take a seat." He indicated an informal grouping of chairs before the fireplace. Francis took the nearest and withdrew his reading glasses case from his pocket. Jonathan sat opposite him. "Now, have you and Clarissa come to an understanding? What would you like to do?"

"Jonathan, I'm torn between my options. I can take the living and exist separated from Clarissa, or I can turn it down and remain in London and try to win back my wife."

Jonathan blinked. "I suggest you choose whichever means the most to you." His voice was filled with compassion.

"My wife, of course, but I have no employment with which to support her. And no prospect of any within the church in London."

"I believe your wife said she earns more than enough to support you both in London. Is that an option you have considered?"

"I would rather not! I try to be a humble man, but to be supported by my wife is a hard thing for a man's pride to swallow. Besides which, her employment and income are not reliable, because they're dependent on her being offered roles."

Jonathan's forehead wrinkled. "Hmm. Is there other employment you might take up?"

"Perhaps more mission work that could bring in a meagre stipend? But how would we support the children that inevitably follow marriage?"

"You know there are ways to limit the number of children that are conceived?"

"Yes, but none that are condoned by the church, except abstinence, unfortunately." Not that he believed the church should make those decisions for its flock. Abstinence is the last thing I want to practice with Clarissa . "I can't support the edict that couples must not limit conception with good conscience. That can only cause discord within a marriage. I see that now. It takes away the rights of women to have agency over their bodies, their lives…even life itself."

"I'll leave you and your wife to make those decisions." Jonathan looked a little flushed around the neck. "With regard to the living—does the idea of residing in the Hampshire countryside and ministering to a country flock still appeal to you? Would you still wish to take it up in the future, even if you don't take it up now?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Jane is concerned that you are unduly influenced by your father's dream of a rural living and that you are really a city person at heart."

Francis remembered when at age sixteen his father accompanied him to St. John's College, Oxford before he began his studies. His father had told him about his own time at Oxford. And how he had always wanted to obtain a rectory in the country, especially after he had a family to raise, as he believed that was the ideal environment to live and raise children.

Francis had immediately adopted that goal as his own, although up until then he had been happy to live in London.

Was he clinging to an old, out-of-date, and appropriated goal? His enjoyment of country living when he had been newly ordained and working with Reverend Hodges had been real. It remained a vivid goal of his. "I'm sure that a country living is my true calling," he said.

Jonathan gave him a long steady look, as though trying to read the truth of his words on his face. "In that case, leave it with me. I will work out something for the living. You need only concern yourself with making everything right with your wife." Jonathan rose to his feet, strode to the door and opened it.

Their interview was over. Stunned and a little confused by Jonathan's response, Francis rehoused his glasses in their case and hastened to comply.

Jonathan shook his hand again and ushered him out. "So glad we could have this discussion, Francis. I'll be in contact with you soon," he said in farewell. Very business-like .

Within minutes, Francis was again on the street, hat on head, walking stick in hand. He reviewed the meeting, but could not determine what Jonathan had meant. He must solve this dilemma on his own. He headed for Fleet Street, intent on asking for employment with the many newspapers located there, hoping to entice them with his extensive contacts in the theatre world.

Afterwards, unsuccessful and with nowhere else to go, he headed back to his lodgings.

In the early afternoon, there was a tap on his door. The young boy who delivered missives on behalf of The Brody School stood there. He brought a letter from Charlotte inviting Clarissa and himself to a family afternoon tea at the Brody School for Young Ladies. Is this just a social occasion or do they have another reason for inviting us?

Francis quickly penned a note to Clarissa at her father's house via the same reliable lad.

Mid-afternoon on that bitter January day , Francis knocked on the door of Captain Harding's townhouse and asked for his wife. Within minutes, Clarissa walked with him to Harley Street. She held his arm stiffly and answered his polite enquiries about her day in a few words, until he had no more questions and conversation lapsed.

His heart ached at the loss of their previous camaraderie and affection. He swung his walking stick, forward and back, as they proceeded in silence. I hate feeling this powerless. Dalton, he feared, was his only hope of a solution .

Once in the foyer, they handed their coats to Joe. Francis led Clarissa down the hallway, past the stairway leading upstairs to his sisters' bedchambers. Doors branched off on either side of the foyer. They paced past his sisters' formal parlor where they interviewed the parents of prospective pupils. The familiar rich smell of the bees wax polish used on the wooden furniture and doors tickled his nose. Distant sounds of girls' voices, as they practiced French with Madame , drifted down from upstairs.

They strode onward to his sisters' private sitting room. Inside, his sisters were assembled on the mixture of chairs that populated the room. Jane, Charlotte, Anna, and Katherine greeted them warmly. Francis and Clarissa claimed a striped sofa that faced the scattered chairs.

Moments after their arrival, two maids entered bringing tea and cakes. Dalton arrived in time to receive a cup of just-poured tea from Jane before cakes were passed around.

Francis sipped his tea then set his cup and saucer on the small wooden table before the sofa. Clarissa may have been sitting beside him but the gap between them was too wide physically and emotionally for him to feel anything but loss. And worse, he knew that distance would soon become far greater. He shifted in his seat, trying to ease the stiffness in his muscles.

What was the purpose of this gathering? Surely not just for chit-chat over tea and cakes? He accepted a tea cake slathered with butter onto his plate and sat back to wait for all to be revealed.

Once everyone was served, Jonathan cleared this throat. "Thank you for coming, Francis and Clarissa. I'm sure you're wondering why you are here."

Francis dipped his chin in response. Clarissa glanced around as though trying to read the answer on his sisters' faces. His hand strayed to his pocket coat where his glasses case resided.

"Jane?" Jonathan prompted his wife.

"We have discussed your dilemma and have another option, which you both may wish to consider that wouldn't require you to be parted," she said. "Unless you wished to, of course," she added hurriedly. "Jonathan has an idea." She looked expectantly at her husband, who soon elaborated.

"With regard to the living in Hampshire, Francis, it is yours to take up whenever you wish. If you are not in a position to do so yet, you could employ a curate until you are. That would give you an income…and give you time, Clarissa, to fulfil your career ambitions on the stage." Jonathan splayed his hands, palms upwards, before him and smiled, eliciting their comments.

A sliver of hope ignited Francis. It was a good option. in him. One that Francis hadn't seriously considered. It had seemed so ungrateful to take the living and not fulfil the position himself. Now Jonathan had approved that course, the tension in his body eased.

But he still wouldn't have work in London except for the mission at Wapping, which did not occupy much of his time.

The eyes of his family members were on him. They waiting for his response. "I'm extremely grateful that you are willing to allow me to take over the living, but not fulfil the residency there. That's very generous. However, the problem remains that I am without a job in London and barred from obtaining one with the church presently. Unfortunately, it would leave me without enough occupation. I'm not a gentleman of leisure by nature."

"Let me interrupt," said Charlotte. "The Brody School for Young Ladies would like to offer you both teaching roles at the school. Francis to teach the Classics to the older girls and Clarissa, if your acting engagements permit, to teach elocution and dramatics to the whole school. We would pay a stipend to each of you, which, though not a great amount, should be sufficient to support you, should Clarissa not have stage roles for whatever reason, and fulfil your need to contribute to society."

Would this enable them to stay together in London? His answer was a decided ‘yes'. Agreement depended on Clarissa's wishes.

It seemed to be a good long-term solution to Clarissa's precarious employment and his lack of employment in the city. Francis slid his eyes to Clarissa held his breath, waiting for her to say something—yay or nay—o his sister's proposal.

He still feared that Clarissa wouldn't remain with him even though a resolution of their situation was proposed. Her face looked serious, not happy and relieved. His stomach clenched while he waited.

"I don't wish to give up my acting career, so I think your suggestion is a marvelous solution." She smiled and her forehead lost its worried frown for the first time since the announcement of his new living. "I will be happy to do both. But you do realize I have no experience as a teacher, don't you? The Duke Street Orphanage was training me to become a governess, but I never came close to reaching that goal."

Francis's sisters spoke at once, full of enthusiasm.

"You'll be fine."

"The girls will love you."

"We'll help you in every way we can."

"You won't be asked to do more than you can cope with."

"Then you both agree to the proposal?" Jane asked, her gaze jumping between them both.

They turned to each other and shared a hopeful, questioning look. "Yes!" Francis slid his hand across the distance on the sofa to take Clarissa's hand in his and give it a squeeze. She returned the pressure and gave him a look full of promise. He slipped the glasses case back into his pocket.

"There's more, too. As you must leave your bachelor lodgings, Francis, you are both welcome to move into Dalton House, if you wish it," Jane said.

"Or here," Charlotte said. "Our parents' room is unoccupied. You are very welcome to reside here with us."

"The decision is yours entirely," added Jane. "As newlyweds you may wish to have your own lodgings."

Francis turned to Clarissa, but couldn't read her thoughts about the offer. "Thank you, we will discuss your kind propositions."

"Whenever you're ready, let us know," Jane said.

"We're forgetting our tea and cake," Katherine interrupted.

"Who needs tea? Pour the wine, Jonathan!" Jane said, pointing to the carafe and glasses on a sideboard.

"Wine! Tea! Cake! Let's have them all," Clarissa joined in. A huge smile lit her face.

Thank goodness for his family. Their intervention may just have saved his marriage.

But he needed more than a marriage of convenience. Would it be more than that? He wouldn't know until they left.

If Clarissa came home with him, he had a good chance.