Read Online Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) by Rosemary Morris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosemary Morris
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dislike of the earl. “Please release me.”
After Pennington let go of him, he resisted the temptation to brush his sleeve.
Footmen opened the double doors. “Jarvis serve wine in the library,” Pennington ordered, while he led Dominic out of the drawing room.
* * *
Dominic admired the shining floorboards, ornate high-backed wooden chairs upholstered in crimson velvet, a fireplace and tall windows traced with carved stone.
“Ah, you are speechless with admiration.” Pennington indicated row upon row of glass-fronted bookshelves, shaped like arched window frames, which reached from the floor to ceiling on three sides of the library.
Regardless of how long a person lived it would be impossible for anyone to read so many books. “Yes, my lord, I can think of little to say. No remark of mine could do justice to it’s splendour.”
“Your praise gratifies me.” Pennington gestured to a pair of chairs in front of which stood a conveniently place low, oval table. “Please sit down, Mister Markham. I am fortunate to have inherited Clarencieux, which I am still refurbishing.” He chuckled with palpable satisfaction. “No need for me to have a pseudo gothic ruin built in the grounds because there is already a tumbledown church. I realised its potential to become a point of interest for my guests, when I inherited the estate. After all, such relics are much in vogue.” His eyes sly, glanced at Dominic. “I daresay you disapprove of such use of hallowed ground.”
Before he could phrase a polite reply Jarvis arrived. After he served wine, in response to a flick of the earl’s fingers, he left the library, his footsteps dignified.
“Ah,” Pennington breathed, “now that Napoleon has been defeated, it is a relief to import wine from France instead of relying on smugglers.”
Dominic thought of many more important reasons to be grateful for England’s victory. “Our triumphant island has paid a heavy price. Yesterday, I gave a poor fellow, who wore a tattered army uniform, a shilling. I wished him well in his search for work, and instructed my cook to give him a hearty meal before he went on his way. Our triumphant island paid a heavy price.”
Pennington waved a white hand at him. “Let us not speak of such matters. Although I suppose, a rector, is obliged to consider them.” He scrutinised Dominic. “I have instructed my steward to reward you for saving my grandson. I hope you will consider the sum sufficient.”
Dominic stood. “You insult me, my lord. I only acted like any other man upon seeing a child drowning.”
“It is fortunate you can swim.” Pennington twirled the barley-twist stem of his crystal wineglass. “If you will not accept a pecuniary reward I shall suggest an alternative.” He sipped his wine. “Mister Markham, please sit down again. I have heard you are like your father, an honourable man. I suspected you would refuse to accept a monetary expression of my gratitude. Instead, I offer you an alternative. The current incumbent of this parish will retire this month. Your reward, which I hope you will accept, the rich living with a large glebe.”
He might be judged uncharitable, but Dominic did not, indeed, could not like the man. Nothing would induce him to accept the generous offer. “With regret, I must decline. It would not be advisable to be in charge of two adjacent parishes.” Under no circumstances did he wish to be under an obligation to a patron of Pennington’s type.
The earl finished his wine. “I daresay you refuse because you have – shall we say – other expectations. Your oldest brother has not fathered a son, and your other brothers died in battle. Your esteemed father must be disappointed because his heir does not have a son.” Pennington scrutinised him. “What else can I offer you? Do your parents consider it is time for you to marry?” Pennington leant forward. “Your parents would be unnatural if they did not want to see you with a wife and
After Pennington let go of him, he resisted the temptation to brush his sleeve.
Footmen opened the double doors. “Jarvis serve wine in the library,” Pennington ordered, while he led Dominic out of the drawing room.
* * *
Dominic admired the shining floorboards, ornate high-backed wooden chairs upholstered in crimson velvet, a fireplace and tall windows traced with carved stone.
“Ah, you are speechless with admiration.” Pennington indicated row upon row of glass-fronted bookshelves, shaped like arched window frames, which reached from the floor to ceiling on three sides of the library.
Regardless of how long a person lived it would be impossible for anyone to read so many books. “Yes, my lord, I can think of little to say. No remark of mine could do justice to it’s splendour.”
“Your praise gratifies me.” Pennington gestured to a pair of chairs in front of which stood a conveniently place low, oval table. “Please sit down, Mister Markham. I am fortunate to have inherited Clarencieux, which I am still refurbishing.” He chuckled with palpable satisfaction. “No need for me to have a pseudo gothic ruin built in the grounds because there is already a tumbledown church. I realised its potential to become a point of interest for my guests, when I inherited the estate. After all, such relics are much in vogue.” His eyes sly, glanced at Dominic. “I daresay you disapprove of such use of hallowed ground.”
Before he could phrase a polite reply Jarvis arrived. After he served wine, in response to a flick of the earl’s fingers, he left the library, his footsteps dignified.
“Ah,” Pennington breathed, “now that Napoleon has been defeated, it is a relief to import wine from France instead of relying on smugglers.”
Dominic thought of many more important reasons to be grateful for England’s victory. “Our triumphant island has paid a heavy price. Yesterday, I gave a poor fellow, who wore a tattered army uniform, a shilling. I wished him well in his search for work, and instructed my cook to give him a hearty meal before he went on his way. Our triumphant island paid a heavy price.”
Pennington waved a white hand at him. “Let us not speak of such matters. Although I suppose, a rector, is obliged to consider them.” He scrutinised Dominic. “I have instructed my steward to reward you for saving my grandson. I hope you will consider the sum sufficient.”
Dominic stood. “You insult me, my lord. I only acted like any other man upon seeing a child drowning.”
“It is fortunate you can swim.” Pennington twirled the barley-twist stem of his crystal wineglass. “If you will not accept a pecuniary reward I shall suggest an alternative.” He sipped his wine. “Mister Markham, please sit down again. I have heard you are like your father, an honourable man. I suspected you would refuse to accept a monetary expression of my gratitude. Instead, I offer you an alternative. The current incumbent of this parish will retire this month. Your reward, which I hope you will accept, the rich living with a large glebe.”
He might be judged uncharitable, but Dominic did not, indeed, could not like the man. Nothing would induce him to accept the generous offer. “With regret, I must decline. It would not be advisable to be in charge of two adjacent parishes.” Under no circumstances did he wish to be under an obligation to a patron of Pennington’s type.
The earl finished his wine. “I daresay you refuse because you have – shall we say – other expectations. Your oldest brother has not fathered a son, and your other brothers died in battle. Your esteemed father must be disappointed because his heir does not have a son.” Pennington scrutinised him. “What else can I offer you? Do your parents consider it is time for you to marry?” Pennington leant forward. “Your parents would be unnatural if they did not want to see you with a wife and
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