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forget?”
    “No.” Elizabeth sounded obstinate as she moved her gaze from her handiwork to him. “No. Henry forbade me to tell you.”
    “Henry!” Mrs. Windham spun in her direction. “When did you last see Master Henry?”
    Elizabeth shrugged, still silently challenging Edward with a sullen look.
    For a moment, he only mashed his hat between his fingers. When he finally spoke, his vocal cords were strained. “I am late. My errands are urgent.” He kept his singular glare on Elizabeth. “Yet you and Henry would willfully conspire to cast extra burdens upon me?”
    Elizabeth yanked her thread so hard, the fabric pulled.
    Edward waited for comment, but when none came, he turned to me. He bowed his eyes, both guarded and apologetic. “I pray you will forgive my misguided brother. You have my word, I shall not disturb your visit by calling upon Am Meer again.”
    Glaring once more at Elizabeth, he shoved his crumpled hat onto his head, turned, and left.
    “When did you last see Master Henry?” Mrs. Windham demanded again in an angry whisper as the door shut. “You know you’re not supposed to. If Lord Auburn and—”
    “Oh, Mama, hush!” Elizabeth threw her sewing down. Tears filled her eyes. “Who cares about them?” Her face sympathetic, she turned toward me. “Julia, I am so sorry. I had not an idea that Henry would . . . No, you mustn’t leave. Dearest, we must talk; I must explain.”
    But I would have none of it. I shook my head, dumping the contents of my lap to the floor. My self-restraint had left with Edward.

    That night, I sat empty of faith, staring at the fire. My only comfort was one of the dogs I’d coaxed into my chamber an hour or two after Elizabeth stopped pounding on my door, demanding I come out.
    Ordained, my mind said over and again. Edward is ordained. The bulldog soughed and stretched in his sleep as I ran my fingers over his bristled fur. It was all just too horrible to believe.
    Edward was now one of those churlish men who thought nothing of crushing others from their man-made pulpits. It was unthinkable. Nearly as unthinkable as Edward’s standing before me callous and impervious.
    I envisioned him walking about in that ridiculous-looking cassock, visiting his parishioners while I’d been lectured and bullied by his brethren. I picked up the nearby poker and jabbed the fire with vigor, then when the dog jumped to attention at my motion, I rubbed his ears.
    No vicar could wed William Elliston’s daughter. Edward had to have known that when he took his orders. He had known he was discarding me.
    And what of Elizabeth?
    I hugged my knees and stared at the ceiling lost to the dark, feeling a roiling of emotion. Her betrayal was beyond belief. How could she have remained silent all those years, allowing me to think my future was set, when in reality, it was falling apart? Her actions were unconscionable. Unforgivable.
    A warm tongue licked my hand. Looking down I realized I’d ceased petting the dog. Red-rimmed eyes looked soulfully upon me.
    “Et tu Brute?” I hugged my knees tighter as my voice choked. “Are you just waiting around in hopes of seeing me cry?”
    A long tongue and happy panting met my question.
    No longer caring that it wasn’t proper, I lay on my side and accepted the dog’s warm kisses and energetic wagging of his tail. With nudges of his wet nose and high whines, he invited me to take consolation in his company and to have a good cry.

    “Eh. Thou’ll have fleas now if thou didn’t before.”
    I opened my eyes to find the girl from yesterday leaning over me, her nose inches from mine. Her red curls hung like curtainson either side of her face. When she moved, sunlight flooded my face, forcing me to shield my eyes.
    “Thou’ll smell, too.” Nancy wrinkled her nose before reaching down and grabbing the bulldog by the scruff of the neck. “Ga on, off with thee.”
    As I struggled to a sitting position, the events of yesterday flooded back. I