The Bishop's Daughter by Susan Carroll

into a troubled frown.
    "You may be right, Julia— I mean, of course you are right," he hastily amended. "Miss Towers is perfect, but if, as you believe, Lord Harry should have some notion of settling down and wish to wed the young lady, I do not feel it would be right to set myself up as rival to him."
    As Julia fixed him with a cold stare, her brother stammered, "You tend to forget my position here. Although he is our cousin, Harry is also lord of the manor. I can never provoke his lordship while I owe him such a debt of gratitude. It was he who presented me with the living."
    "Lytton would have presented St. Benedict's to the first tinker coming down the lane," Julia said scornfully, "if only to spare himself further responsibility in the matter."
    Thus dismissing her brother's obligations to Lord Lytton, Julia proceeded to inform Adolphus how he should call upon Kathryn at once to see how she fared, perhaps even take her a small nosegay from the parsonage garden. But neither coaxing nor insisting could move him to do so.
    "I have a sermon to finish for the morrow," Adolphus said, his jaw jutting in stubborn fashion.
    Julia saw that nothing she could say would convince him and, although considerably annoyed, was obliged to give over for the moment. Adolphus could be led to a certain point, but when he waxed obstinate, it was best to let be or she would only have more difficulty reopening the subject of his courtship later.
    Julia had realized a long time ago that she was much more clever than her younger brother. She would never have been so unmaidenly as to admit being discontent with her lot, a frustration that her sex barred her from the education that seemed to have been wasted upon Adolphus. Instead, she found her solace by managing his life for him.
    It distressed her when she thought that perhaps Adolphus might truly be content to be no more than the vicar of Lytton's Dene. She had far greater plans for him, and neither his modesty nor Lytton's interference were going to ruin these schemes.
    When they arrived at the vicarage, Adolphus's last word on the subject was to pat her kindly on the shoulder and tell her not to fret. "I am sure the Almighty will decide whom your good friend Kathryn should marry."
    Although Julia bowed her head in pious acquiescence, she realized that the Almighty frequently had a way of arranging things not to her satisfaction. But not this time, she thought, her lips thinning dangerously. Not if she had anything to say in the matter.
    Come what may, Julia vowed, Lord Lytton would not have Kate.
     

     
     
Chapter Four
    Maisie Towers settled herself upon the window seat and stole one glance through the sun-glazed panes, hoping for some sign of a carriage billowing in a dusty cloud along the lane. Surely Kate should have been home by now. Mrs. Towers began to fret and then adjured herself not to be a fool. Kate was not likely to break any bones attending a dedication service upon a hillside.
    No, not any bones, Mrs. Towers thought, suppressing a worried sigh, only her heart. She forced her gaze away from the window and summoned an attentive smile for her guests, all the while wishing them at Jericho.
    Mrs. Prangle, the archdeacon's wife, had been ensconced upon the settee for over half an hour, her inquisitive eyes taking in every detail of the cottage, her sharp, unlovely voice rasping at Mrs. Towers's nerves. Seated upon either side of Mrs. Prangle were her two red-haired daughters. Doubtless in a few years they would grow to be most sensible girls, but now they showed a distressing tendency to giggle.
    "And I told archdeacon," Mrs. Pringle trilled on, "that I was going out this way to visit my sister in any case, so I must stop and call upon Mrs. Towers and dear Kathryn. Such as pity she should be away from home."
    Mrs. Towers smiled, nodded, and wished she had accompanied her daughter.
    Mrs. Prangle arched her neck, glancing about her. "This is a charming house, although rather small.