Free Beloved Monster by Karyn Gerrard Page B

He made no movement to assist her with the horse or her descent from the wagon. Nevertheless, she managed to scramble down with her dignity intact and looped the reins around the hitching post. “Miss Parker? I see you so seldom I could not be sure it was you approaching.”
    Glenna tamped down a scowl and a discourteous retort. Of course, the vicar had to let it be known she did not attend services on a weekly basis. His voice had a slight musical lilt and the tone covered in a frost of disdain.
    She flashed him one of her brilliant, counterfeit smiles. “Yes. It is I. I have heard from my cook, Mrs. Grampton, you have been given the task of disposing of the late Viscount Ravenswood’s belongings. I thought I would come by and acquire a few articles for my cousin.”
    The vicar frowned. “I’ve no plans to sell anything to the villagers. Instead I found a consignment shop in London who is interested in purchasing the entire lot.”
    Glenna smoothed her wool skirt. “Did you give them an itemized list?”
    Mr. Dornan cocked an eyebrow. “Not as yet.”
    “Excellent, then you can sell a few bits and bobs to me. Reed does not get out much, the poor dear. Anything I can do to increase his wardrobe, I shall.”
    Mr. Dornan glanced at the vicarage and seemed to be contemplating her suggestion. “Well, I suppose it would not do any harm. I merely wished to spare the earl and her ladyship the heartbreak of seeing any of the locals traipsing about in their late son’s garments.”
    The words were spoken with deep feeling, and Glenna warmed a little toward the vicar. She nodded. “I understand, Mr. Dornan. As you know, my cousin keeps his own counsel, nor do Reed and the earl move in the same social circles. I will ensure he does not flaunt the clothes about in public.”
    “Aye, and I understand about keeping one’s own counsel. Very well. Come in, I have many of the items laid out as I was about to begin the task of itemizing it all.”
    Glenna stepped across the threshold, removed her gloves, and placed them in her reticule. The interior of the vicarage was cozy, a roaring fire blazed in the hearth. A sofa and two chairs rested before the fire, and a large braided rug covered most of the wood floor. Mr. Dornan took her cloak. “May I offer you a cup of tea?” he asked politely.
    She glanced up at the tall, slim, older man. He’d warmed considerably in his look and tone since she first arrived. Dressed entirely in black, save for the white collar at his neck, he possessed the countenance of a stern scholar with his salt and pepper hair and thin mouth, but in taking a closer look, Glenna observed a playful twinkle in his blue eyes. “I would love one. And Mr. Dornan, allow me to assist you with your inventory.”
    “Most kind of you. I accept your offer. Please, inspect the items at your leisure while I put the kettle on.”
    Glenna laid her reticule aside and gasped at the sight before her. Piles of fashionable attire lay on nearly every surface. Hanging on a nail were many fine evening clothes of expensive quality. Luke would no longer have use for those, she thought sadly. Books, and many of them, sat in piles on the floor. Ravenswood had been a reader. No wonder he’d quoted Paradise Lost to her in the bookstore. On the table lay a leather shaving kit. She traced the initials on the silver handle of the razor. LWM. Lucas William Madden. Surely such a personal item could clear the fog from Luke’s memory. Next to it sat a bottle of New Mown Hay Cologne. They really did clear out everything as if to obliterate his existence. However, everyone grieved in their own way. Some found comfort in the dearly departed’s belongings, yet for others the memory became entirely too painful to endure. A smaller group wanted to be rid of any reminder because they were glad the deceased had shuffled off this mortal coil. She wondered which group the earl fell in.
    The vicar walked toward her. “Tea is steeping, so that should