The Spare by Carolyn Jewel Page A

word.
    "Shall we walk in the gallery?" Sebastian asked. James could be counted on to entertain Miss Willow while he cornered the vicar, and Diana and Mrs. Verney seemed to have hit well together. At first opportunity, Sebastian stepped next to Mr. Verney and said, "May I ask you about my brother?"
    "A fine man," Verney said. "I was proud to know him." The clergyman's spirit might be in the heavens, but the rest of him stood on terra firma. A match between Miss Willow and the vicar was not as farfetched as he'd originally thought. Verney had to know Miss Willow was superior in every way that mattered. So why had he settled for less? Perhaps Mickey was wrong and the choice had not been his. He slowed, Verney alongside him, until the others were several feet ahead. "Andrew and I wrote each other, of course, but I've been at sea all these years. It was a shock to learn of his death, coming so soon after our father. To say nothing of the manner in which he died."
    "Of course, of course."
    "I feel I didn't know him at all."
    "How may I help you, my Lord?" He smiled in an encouraging manner. "Spiritual guidance? Or something else? Surely not guilt over his passing?"
    He paused before a gold-framed saint. He knew enough about art to recognize a Giotto when he saw one. Why would any man lucky enough to engage Miss Willow's affections not do whatever it took to keep them? She would have been an admirable wife for a man of Verney's station in life. In fact, he strongly suspected she would have been a far better match than Verney would otherwise have hoped to make. Mrs. Verney was proof of that. Why her when he might have had Miss Willow? He wondered which of them broke it off. With a glance at Verney, he said, "What was he like? What sort of man had he become?"
    "One we all admired."
    "I understand he took an interest your school."
    Verney's eyebrows lifted. "He did. I approached him about subscribing the school, helping us find a location other than Miss Willow's parlor, contributing to expenses and the like, and engaging Miss Willow as our permanent instructress. He not only agreed, he condescended to observe a class. I can tell you, the children and Miss Willow made us proud that day."
    "You worked closely with her on the endeavor." Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled, the clergyman at his side. Had Verney ever kissed Miss Willow? Had he known the feel of her mouth or the texture of her skin? Bastard if he had and then jilted her. Fool if he had.
    "Once the subscription committee agreed on the particulars, indeed, I did." He sighed. "Our grand plans came to naught after your brother passed on. But Miss Willow continues to teach the children when she can." Sebastian could see what was coming a mile off. He waited while Verney, with a grin, said, "With your help, we might revive the idea of a permanent school. And do a good turn by Miss Willow, who surely deserves a steadier income than she now has for her efforts."
    "Yes." Sebastian remembered to smile. "A school seems a worthy cause. I'm sure whatever my brother approved is more than satisfactory."
    "You won't regret your generosity." His eyes twinkled. "I'll inform the committee straight away. What a celebration we shall have. A happy day for us all. Ah, but you asked to speak about your brother, not be dunned for every charity in the parish. What else may I tell you?"
    "To be honest, what you've told me so far, sir, does not sound like the brother I knew. He was a man of many parts, but I cannot imagine him taking an interest in your school." He slowed because his body protested the distance of their walk. "My father despaired of him."
    Verney stared down the gallery. "When he came to Pennhyll, he was quite a different man from what he became later on. There was a deal of talk about his wild ways. Heavens, yes, that's quite so."
    "You will not offend me with the truth." Jesus, he hated this weakness of his. He stopped, letting his throbbing muscles rest and his heartbeat