Free The Journal of a Vicar's Wife by Viveka Portman Page A

within my throat. For just a moment, he looked so like the Vicar, but not the Vicar as I know him; the Vicar as I once had imagined he may be. Gentle, kind, and loving. How I wish he would love me, as I once cared for this man.
    ‘This isn’t terribly awkward for you, is it Maria?’ Jonathan spoke suddenly, ‘Having me here in your home?’ he asked, his voice very soft and low now.
    I was startled to hear my name. It seemed such a time since I had last heard it spoken in this house. ‘No, Mr Reeves, is it for you?’ I asked.
    Jonathan paused, his head inclined as he observed me. ‘Peculiarly, no. It has been many years since we were so connected.’ The smile seemed to fade from his lips.
    ‘Yes.’ I agreed. ‘I am a happily married woman now,’ I said, but found myself unable to withhold the disappointment in my tone.
    The expression in Jonathan’s face belied his doubt. ‘Why do you refer to my cousin as Vicar , rather than husband ?’ he asked, his expression softening.
    ‘How observant of you to notice,’ I managed.
    Jonathan raised an eyebrow. ‘I am a solicitor; observation is one of my keenest skills.’
    I looked away a moment. Another sharp pain of longing surged through my breast. I missed simple warmth and kindness.
    ‘Still, you have not answered. Why do you call him Vicar ?’
    I could not admit such things to Jonathan, a former beau, so instead I forced a playful smile. ‘It amuses me,’ I replied.
    ‘It amuses you?’
    ‘Indeed,’ I replied, having had quite enough of the conversation. ‘I shall leave you now, Mr Reeves. Mrs Cartwright will prepare you a late luncheon, and Minny will bring you hot water to refresh yourself with. You must be tired from the journey.’
    ‘No, I’m quite enthused actually.’ He paused. ‘Before you go, Maria, please… I must know, have you met the new governess at Stanton House?’ he asked.
    The question took me by surprise. ‘The new governess?’ I tried to recall the insipid, pale and bookish thing I’d seen at church on Sunday. ‘Why, yes. Though I’ve not had a formal introduction.’
    ‘Oh.’ Jonathan’s face fell. ‘She fares well then?’
    ‘I must assume so, for I’ve heard nothing to contrary. Why, Jonathan, all these questions?’
    Jonathan’s gaze escaped mine. ‘She lived not far from my terrace in London; our families are friends. Her father asked if I would keep an eye on her. Lord Stanton is renowned in London for his … er … manners, and her poor father fears for her virtue terribly. As do I, if I confess.’
    If it were possible, my heart sank a little lower. Jonathan was in love. I knew it then, as I’d known it when he’d once loved me. Yet now, he loved a plain, poor governess under the dubious care of our patron Lord William Stanton, no less.
    My anger stirred anew. How many sins must I endure? Lust, and now jealousy? Surely I shall burn in the pits of Hell one day.
    I shook my head. ‘I’m sure I know nothing about the goings on at Stanton, but, should I hear something. I’ll report to you directly.’
    ‘Thank you,’ he smiled again.
    I turned to go, and as I did, I heard my husband’s footfall on the landing.
    ‘Mrs Reeves?’ he asked on my approach.
    ‘Yes, Vicar?’
    He narrowed his eyes again, and perversely I wanted to laugh.
    ‘I have marked several passages for you to read this evening.’
    My desire to laugh fell swiftly into the desire to weep. ‘Indeed?’ was all I could respond.
    ‘Quite. I am aware you’ve not been continuing your studies in matters of faith recently, and I hope to rectify it.’
    ‘Of course,’ I inclined my head, and made to move. I could sense Jonathan behind us, watching, curious. ‘Whatever readings you dictate Vicar, I shall endeavour to read, and indeed, welcome into my mind and heart.’
    I could have laughed bitterly at the vacuous drivel my husband likes to hear from me. Though I could see he was irked at the title Vicar, my duplicitous and false words