Free The Smuggler and the Society Bride by Julia Justiss

help?’
    â€˜I know you are well educated—and kind, judging by your treatment of Eva Steavens. Would you consent to helping the girls learn their letters? I’m sure they would admire you as much as Eva does and put forth their best efforts, in order to earn your approval.’
    She, the bane of several governesses—to become a sort of schoolmistress? She suppressed a giggle at the thought.
    Misinterpreting her silence, the vicar went on quickly, ‘You might think such a task below your station, but truly it is but a variation on the service genteel ladies have always performed in making calls upon the poor.’
    Given her present circumstances, not much would be considered beneath her station, Honoria thought. ‘Indeed, I know it is not!’ she assured him, smiling at the irony of it.
    At this hour, Lady Honoria Carlow, Diamond of the Ton, would usually have been yawning over her chocolate while she flipped through a stack of invitations, all begging her presence at the most select functions offered by Society. She would have dressed, and paid calls and shopped, later stopping each evening at several events where she would be trailed by a crowd of admiring gentlemen and a bevy of ladies anxious to divert a share of those gentlemen’s attentions.
    If anyone had suggested that in a few short weeks she would count it a blessing to fill her idle hours assisting a bespectacled Welsh vicar to teach a passel of grubby Cornish children their letters, she would have laughed herself silly.
    Even though, if one truly considered the matter, helping children learn to read was far more worthy of her time than listening to a buxom soprano sing arias or some infatuated moonling intone bad verses to her eyebrows.
    As worthwhile as attempting to rescue a drowning man, she thought, feeling again the glow of satisfaction that had warmed her after that effort.
    Offering village girls the gift of literacy would give them a bit more control over lives now wholly controlled by men. To females even more dependent for their welfare upon the whims of that gender than she was, that was a precious gift indeed.
    She’d already decided to agree when the thought struck her. ‘Will Eva Steavens be able to attend?’
    The vicar considered the question. ‘I don’t see why not. The other children might tease her, though—or their parents might object.’
    Honoria recalled the disagreeable man at church who had snarled at the child. ‘Are Mr John Kessel’s views widely held?’
    Father Gryffd sighed. ‘I’m afraid they are more widespread than a good Christian would like.’
    Trying to alter deeply ingrained prejudices would be a difficult task, she suspected. ‘What if Eva were to come after the other children went home?’
    â€˜We don’t know that she’d be responsive to teaching,’ the vicar reminded her gently.
    â€˜But you said yourself you don’t believe her to be a halfwit. Certainly she communicates with her mother, albeit in a way none but the two of them understands. I think she might be very quick to learn.’
    The vicar nodded. ‘She might well be, and you are correct to remind me it is Eva’s welfare, rather than the townspeople’s prejudices, with which we should concern ourselves. I am willing to try, if you are. After you’ve dug your flowers, would you like to accompany me to the Gull’s Roost? Eva’s sister Laurie works there. We could ask her about Eva attending the school while I offer you a mug of cider as my thanks for agreeing to help with the children. And you should still have time to complete your commissions for Miss Foxe.’
    Honoria smiled. ‘That sounds delightful.’
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    And so it was, after digging up several prime specimens of primroses and having the vicar’s housekeeper wrap them in newsprint for the transit back to Foxeden, Honoria found herself walking with the vicar into