Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) by Rosemary Morris

Deep in thought, he allowed her to amble towards the rectory. When they neared it, she broke into a trot. Dominic took command of her. Within little more than five minutes, he dismounted outside the stable and handed the reins to his groom. He strode across the small yard, and through the ivy-wreathed gateway, which led to a path around the side of the building.
    “Ah,” breathed Gwenifer, who opened a side door of the building before he could knock, “I thought I heard the clatter of hooves on cobblestones.”
    “You have sharp ears,” he commented, appreciative of the sweet perfume of lavender planted on either side of the door, which she opened wider for him to step inside.
    “Not particularly sharp ones, Dominic. I was sitting in my boudoir by the open window so I could not fail to hear the sound.”
    He removed his hat and gloves and handed them together with his riding crop to a maidservant.
    When he first became rector of the parish he intended to employ footmen. However, Gwenifer pointed out it might appear pretentious for a mere clergyman to employ more servants than some of the local gentry. Nevertheless, he employed a cook, maids, a groom, a stable boy, a coachman and a manservant, who also served as his valet whenever necessary.
    “What happened, Dominic? Why did you send for a change of clothes? The earl’s servant told me you jumped into the lake to save Lord Castleton. Is it true?”
    “Yes.” He held up his hand. “I don’t wish to speak of it.”
    “Please do, for you are a hero!” Gwenifer protested.
    Dominic laughed. “No such thing.”
    “You are too modest. Oh! Don’t frown at me,” she scolded. “I shall say no more concerning the subject, even so, you cannot prevent me being proud of you.”
    “Gwenifer!”
    She shrugged. “If you insist, I shall say no more about it. Besides, I am glad you have returned home. Mrs Cooper and her daughter are here to see you. They insisted on waiting for you. Both of them seemed overset, so I sent them to the kitchen, and gave instructions for cook to give them some barley water. I hope you approve.”
    He kissed her cheek. “Of course I do. You are the mistress of my house for so long as you care to live with me.”
    “Thank you, no lady could ask for a better brother, but I am only in charge until you marry. You must not think I would stay here and, so to speak, tread on your wife’s toes.”
    Dominic sighed. If he tied the knot, he wanted his marriage to be based on the same mutual love and respect his parents shared.  Unbidden, a picture of Pennington’s daughter-in-law sneaked into his mind. “By the way, Gwenifer, have you called on Lady Castleton? I think you would like her.”
    “No.” His sister eyed him with a speculative glint in her green eyes so like his own in shape and colour. “I will visit her if you particularly wish me to.”
    “Not particularly, I merely thought it would be kind of you. Lady Castleton is a young widow, who has a small son.” Aware of increased colour warming his cheeks, he turned aside and pretended to scrutinise a watercolour of the church.
    “I know. After the earl brought them to the abbey, the lady was the talk of the county, at least, this part of it. The rush to make her acquaintance was so vulgar that I did not join it.” Mischievous light appeared in Gwenifer’s eyes “Now the furore has died down, I would be happy to visit her at your request.”
    Dominic pretended to clear his throat before he spoke. “If you wish to, Gwenifer. Now, please send a maidservant to summon Mrs Cooper and Bessie to the library.”
    Before his sister could cross-question him about Lady Castleton, he left the room.
    While he waited for the mother and daughter, he tapped his fingers on his desk. Be honest, you like Lady Castleton. No, you more than like her.
    The door opened. A maidservant bobbed a curtsy. “Mrs and Miss Cooper to see you, sir.”
    Dominic stood. “Come in. Please sit yourselves down in front of