give her a complete picture of her duties, it was a start. Further, Mrs. Hudson promised to warn Anna if she was about to do something wrong or wear an inappropriate gown. Not that she had many to choose from.
With a new friend and a new sense of purpose, Anna felt comforted in her lingering grief over Papá ’s death and Peter’s absence. Now if she could just discover what caused the problem between Major Grenville and his eldest brother, perhaps she could urge them to reconcile. But then, that was hardly her place—and might be just enough to see her dismissed.
* * *
To Anna’s great joy, on Sunday morning everyone in the household walked through the woodlands to the village church. Lord Greystone led the way with his mother, Richard and Mary followed, and Anna strolled beside Major Grenville. Behind them stretched a group of some twenty or so servants, all dressed in their best clothes, hats and bonnets. Anna had plundered poor Miss Peel’s leftovers and found a warm woolen cape that proved black enough to receive Lady Greystone’s approval for a mourning garment.
The days seemed colder than usual for late October, but with numerous villagers and members of the local gentry filling the church, no healthy person could complain of a chill. Anna sat with the family in a place of prominence, much as she had at home, except that here she was at the outside end of the front pew. As the service commenced, she had no need for her prayer book, for the order of events was printed on her mind. During the aged vicar’s sermon on faith, she glanced up at Major Grenville and noticed with satisfaction that he seemed to be enjoying the service as much as she. On the journey to the church, she had also been pleased to see an easy camaraderie amongst the three brothers. Perhaps the mysterious offense of a few days ago had been dealt with.
In spite of the brisk wind, after the service many people lingered outside the church to visit. Anna watched Lady Greystone and her sons chat with various parishioners, but she was unsure of what to do. Since Mamá ’s death, she had acted as her father’s hostess and often invited church members to the vicarage for an afternoon meal. She’d had no difficulty talking with the people of Blandon, but no one here knew her. Without an introduction, she could not approach anyone, even a villager.
As often before, Major Grenville glanced her way but made no move to approach her, nor did he offer a smile. But he was speaking first with the vicar and then with old friends, so why should he acknowledge his mother’s companion or introduce her to the neighbors?
“Miss Newfield?” The vicar approached her, his black cassock and white hair whipping about in the wind. “How nice to see you this morning. I do hope you enjoyed the service.”
Her heart lifted by his kindness, Anna curtseyed. “I did, Mr. Partridge. The text you read from Hebrews is one of my favorites.”
“Indeed?” His bushy grey eyebrows rose. “Are you a student of scripture, then?”
She laughed softly. “Oh, yes. One does not grow up a vicar’s daughter without developing an appreciation for God’s Word.”
“Ah, I had no idea.” Now his face shone with a paternal glow, much like Papá ’s. “Newfield. I seem to recall that a William Newfield was the vicar of Blandon. Is he your father?”
“Yes. Did you know him?” Tears threatened to erupt, along with a world of emotion she had held in these past many days.
“I knew of him. A man of irreproachable reputation, as I recall.” The vicar touched her shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “May I assume he is—”
“In the presence of the Lord…and with my mother.” Anna forced her emotions into obedience and briefly apprised him of the circumstances that had brought her to Greystone Village.
“Ah, yes, your brother.” Mr. Partridge glanced toward the dwindling crowds. “Major Grenville just told me of his courageous actions. Now that I know more of your