Page 16 of A Provincial Peer

Caroline studied her reflection in the mirror. She had been at the vicarage for over a fortnight, and already, there were signs that Nora’s nutritious meals and mothering were making a difference. Her face was less gaunt, her eyes less haunted, and her curls less droopy. She fingered a ringlet, a pensive smile on her face. Giles was right. Her hair had once been the same butter-yellow color as Meg’s, but over the years, it had turned a light brown.

She touched her scarred skin. It no longer hurt or itched, but the red pockmarks remained. They would likely be with her forever. She could only hope that just as her hair had darkened over time, the discoloration might fade.

“Are you ready, Caroline?” Her father’s voice reached her from the bottom of the stairs, and with a start, Caroline realized that her time of contemplation had made her late.

“Coming!” Donning her bonnet, she tied the ribbons firmly beneath her chin, put on her gloves, and hurried out of her bedchamber.

Her father stood in the hall near the front door, a basket containing a loaf of Nora’s bread and a pat of butter beside him.

“Forgive me, Father,” she said. “I did not mean to keep you waiting.”

“There’s no hurry. Mrs. Trilby does not even know we are coming.” He reached for her hand and drew her close enough to gently kiss her cheek. “I am simply grateful that you feel well enough to accompany me.”

“I do feel stronger than I did when I first arrived,” Caroline acknowledged.

“You seem less weary.”

“How could I not be?” she said. “You and Nora have been so good to me. And to Meg.”

“It’s lovely to have you back. And truth be told, it’s been rather refreshing to have Nora fussing over whether or not you and Meg finish your dinners. It means she pays less attention to what I’m eating.”

Caroline laughed. “Nora has been marvelous, and it’s very good of her to watch Meg for me this afternoon.”

“I think she rather enjoys it,” her father said.

Nora and her late husband, Tom, had never had children, which was probably why she’d so readily taken on a mothering role with Caroline all those years ago. Even though Nora was now considerably older, having Meg in the house was another opportunity to assume that responsibility.

“I’m most grateful to her,” Caroline said.

“As am I.” Her father picked up the basket. “Now we’d best be on our way before Meg realizes we are going out in the trap without her.”

Caroline smiled and opened the front door. With every passing day since they’d arrived in Leyfield, Meg’s fascination with animals had grown. First, it had been Lord Benning’s calves and then the vicarage cat and the rabbits that populated the nearby field. The rabbits occasionally made forays into the garden, which thrilled Meg and frustrated Nora to no end. When no wild creatures were about, Meg gave her attention to her grandfather’s horse, Daisy. Daisy was old and did little more than pull the trap a few times each week, but the slow-moving mare had fully won over the little girl.

Meg regularly asked about going to see Lord Benning’s horse, but up until now, Caroline had resisted her pleas. Despite his kind offer, Caroline had no desire to pester the nobleman, so Meg had to make do with visiting Daisy in the field. If Meg were aware that Daisy was hitched and waiting outside the house, she would undoubtedly be there right away.

“I told her that I am joining you to make some visits,” Caroline said. “Any sadness she may have felt over being left behind was quickly assuaged when Nora suggested that Meg make ginger biscuits with her.”

Her father chuckled and followed Caroline to the horse and trap. “I surmised something of the sort was going on when I heard Nora in the kitchen a few moments ago.” He placed the basket in the back and helped Caroline onto the bench before walking around the rustic conveyance and reclaiming the reins from the gate post. “We may be back home before Meg realizes we were gone.”

They started down the lane, driving away from the village. A blackbird took off in a flurry of feathers, and a gentle breeze tugged at the ribbons beneath Caroline’s chin. The sun shone brightly, and she turned her face upward, soaking in the light and warmth.

“It’s a beautiful day,” her father said.

“It’s a beautiful place,” Caroline added, gazing out at the rolling pastures, distant woodland, hedgerows, and meandering stone walls. “Truly, Father. As much as I loved being near the sea and watching its changing moods at Portsmouth, it cannot compare with the tranquility of Gloucestershire’s rolling hills.”

He smiled. “It has been my observation that those who find beauty and joy in their current circumstances will find it anywhere they may go; whereas those who always yen to be somewhere else will find those same feelings resurfacing no matter where they find themselves.”

Caroline pondered that thought. Growing up, she had been happy in Leyfield. And even though she’d had many lonely days in Portsmouth, walking beside the sea and caring for Meg had brought her great joy. Although her return to Leyfield and her future plans were fraught with uncertainty, she already felt a new measure of peace. And that alone was reason for gladness.

“Thank you, Father,” she said, grateful for his gentle counsel. “I will try to remember that.”

He inclined his head. “I believe it is a principle you have already taken to heart, my dear. Your natural disposition is to look for the good, and it has always served you well.”

Caroline raised a hand to her face. She had found happiness in a city filled with strangers and in a marriage that was little more than an occasional visit from the man she’d married, but did she have the courage to be happy with a permanently disfigured body? At this moment, the concept seemed overwhelming.

As though he sensed her inner turmoil, her father reached out his hand and patted hers. “It will be well, Caroline. God has not forgotten you. He loves you even more than I do—which, I confess, is something I struggle to comprehend.”

Knowing that tears would start if she attempted to speak, Caroline set her other hand atop her father’s and held it tight. She knew he understood, and it was enough.