Free The Vicar's Frozen Heart by Karyn Gerrard Page B

mother.”
    Drew looked at him, moisture swimming in his eyes. But he nodded and took Anne’s hand, then exited the room.
    “Well, your lordship. Everything seems to be going according to plan.”
    “Jon, what did I tell you?” Tremain hobbled across the room and closed the door. “Do not refer to me as ‘your lordship,’ not even when we’re alone. It may slip out when we’re in the company of others.”
    “Of course.” Dibley smiled. “Honestly, Hawk. How long are you going to continue on with this charade? It’s a wonder you haven’t been found out. Also, I received a letter from your father, the duke, and he is greatly concerned you have not answered any of your correspondence, particularly from your dear mother.”
    Tremain’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I’ve been busy. Besides, my family agreed to stay away for a while and let me be. But I will answer the letters, particularly mother’s. Dibley, you were with me at Cambridge. Being a vicar is not a ‘charade.’ I took all the requisite courses, have my Masters in Divinity, and am ordained by the archbishop.”
    “Steady on, Trey. I only meant you could serve the tenants and villagers just as well, or even better, as Viscount Hawkestone as you can as Reverend Colson.”
    Tremain glanced at his close friend. They’d known each other since they were lads. Jon’s father still served the duke as steward. Naturally, when Tremain went off to school, the duke generously offered to pay for Jon’s education as well. Jon was offered the post of steward to Tremain’s older brother, Harrison, heir to the dukedom, but their friendship and bonds were strong, and when the time came, Jon elected to serve Tremain instead.
    With his leg groaning in protest at his standing still, Tremain took a seat on the sofa and exhaled in relief as the pressure lessened. Jon sat next to him. “Not in my mind,” Tremain declared firmly. “People will tell a priest far more than someone from the peerage. Besides, this way, both the vicar and the viscount are working in tandem to assure the health and happiness of everyone concerned. It is a sound plan. Even I am thinking of the viscount as a separate entity in my own thoughts.”
    “And what of your health and happiness?” Jon asked, his voice soft with concern.
    “It is not something I reflect upon.”
    “And how long will you play a dual role? How long before you pay your penance in full? It is sheer luck you have not been discovered yet.”
    “To answer the first part of your question, I do not know how long. Until I find some modicum of peace, I suppose. Until I have paid back my debt.” Tremain frowned. “Or until the subterfuge is revealed. Thankfully, this corner of Kent is not frequented by my past acquaintances or paramours, so for now, I am safe.”
    Jon shook his head. “You are hiding away.”
    “Yes, damn it all, I am. I need to heal. I am a damned mess, Jon. Yet every time I help someone in some way, a part of my damaged soul is repaired. I don’t know how else to make you understand. I barely understand it myself.” Tremain laughed cynically. “I am a sorry excuse for a priest. I am neither pious nor overly religious, I hardly pray. It’s why I went into the army instead of the church years ago. I believed my talents would be better served on a battlefield. How arrogant of me. And being a viscount? It’s a bloody courtesy title. It holds no real meaning.”
    “I am aware how you disdain it, but you should not do so. You have had a great honor laid upon you and the title is not a ‘courtesy.’”
    True. Viscount Hawkestone was an extinct title on his mother’s side, going back more than one hundred years. Tremain did not ask for this accolade, but according to his father, the Queen wished to reward Tremain for his services to the crown by resurrecting the title through letters patent. One did not turn down Queen Victoria. Also, he suspected the Queen wished to please the duke, as his father