Lovers' Vows by Joan Smith Page A

would drop in, for there are some papers requiring his signature, but he didn’t get round to it. He was too busy. He was in the drapery shop chatting to the Cockburne girls, and he took his visitors to have a look at the church. Unfortunately, I was not around at the time. He didn’t call at the manse, but my housekeeper tells me he was outside the church, pointing out the gargoyles and features of interest to his visitors. He will likely call on me this afternoon. Or, if not, I’ll try if I can pin him after service on Sunday. I expect I may be asked to the Abbey for luncheon, to meet his guests. I often dine with the countess on a Sunday.”
    Mr. Johnson was not invited to remain and discuss his business with Dewar when he called, nor was he obtuse enough to suggest it when he saw Jane sitting in her good blue gown, with every curl in place. Turning to Holly, he continued speaking. “I am happy to see Dewar plans to remain a while at the Abbey. There are several matters requiring his attention.”
    “A pity he wouldn’t attend to them, instead of gossiping in the village,” she answered tartly, becoming a little tired of everyone’s making excuses for him.
    “You may be sure he will. That is why he is come, certainly: to see to the running of the family orphanage, and to replacing the schoolmaster—all the details that need his personal decision. I shall speak to him about having a specialist look at young McAuley’s leg while he is here. I am very happy he has come at last. The roof of the church could do with a few new slates as well.”
    They continued talking for half an hour, at which time Johnson took his leave, peering down the road hopefully as he turned his mount homeward, to see if there was any choice of buttonholing Dewar. But the only person in sight was Mr. Raymond, returning from the Abbey, where he had been to get Dewar’s signature on the required document.
    “He was sorry he hadn’t known when he was in the village this morning,” Mr. Raymond said. “If he had known, he would have stopped at my office and spared me the trip. Odd he didn’t know, as I left a message yesterday, but he didn’t get it. He was very obliging.”
    “Oh yes, he is always very obliging,” Johnson agreed. It was the opinion generally stated of Dewar, that he was very obliging.
    He finally obliged Lady Proctor at five o’clock, coming just as she had abandoned hope of seeing him, and had removed her uncomfortable lace collar (that scratched the neck due to an excess of sugar used to stiffen it). Jane’s careful toilette had suffered as well. With her muscles cramped from sitting up straight for hours, she finally pulled her feet up beneath her on the sofa and lounged against the pillows, creasing her gown beyond elegance. When Holly joined them at four-thirty, Lady Proctor ordered tea to help pass the vigil. The empty cups sat on the tray when Dewar and Homberly were finally shown in.
    Lady Proctor was determined to be a ladylike and affable, but it took all her self-control to do it. When she looked at the untidy tray, and at her lace collar hanging over the arm of the chair, a frown pleated her brow. And when she observed that Mr. Homberly was of the party her eyes snapped angrily. “Lord Dewar, we were beginning to think you had forgotten all about us,” she said, her tone tinged with annoyance.
    “Not for one moment, I promise you,” he replied, with an appreciative smile at Jane that calmed the mother’s ruffled feathers in a wonderful hurry. “I have been trying to get here all day, but something always interrupts me. It is the fact of so many details awaiting my attention that delays me.”
    “I am sure you are very busy,” Lady Proctor said, sliding the lace collar in behind a pillow, and ringing the bell for a fresh tea tray. “Mr. Johnson was mentioning only this morning that he was expecting a call from you.”
    “Mr. Johnson?” he asked, frowning, and quite obviously not familiar with the