Page 3 of A Meddlesome Match (The Vaughns #3)

“A blessing, Mother?”

demanded Howard. “She abandoned me at the altar—in front of our friends and family—and you think that ought to be celebrated?”

Mrs. Gibson’s tone softened. “Not that part, of course. It breaks my heart to see you suffering because of her callousness. Ending a courtship at this late stage is painful enough, and one ought to have the decency to do so in person. However, I never understood why you set your heart on that silly young lady—”

The guest at Sadie’s side stiffened, a sharp huff escaping her lips on her niece’s behalf, though with the evidence of Miss Murray’s flightiness on full display, Sadie didn’t think the lady had the right to be offended. But all thought fled her mind when Mrs. Gibson continued.

“Why would you choose such a vapid creature when you have a vastly superior one within reach—”

“Not this again, Mother,”

he groaned.

“I would like to thank you all for coming,”

said Mr. Greensgate, raising his voice to carry to the furthest reaches, though not a single person paid him any mind as they stared at the crack in the vestry door.

“She is sweet and intelligent and your dearest friend. What more can a man want in a wife?”

demanded Mrs. Gibson.

Sadie’s breath caught in her lungs, and her eyes widened. She tried to shutter her expression, but hearing Mrs. Gibson expound on the virtues of his “dearest friend”

sent jolts of shock and pleasure skittering across Sadie’s skin, which grew as Howard’s sister and father glanced at her from their place beside the vicar.

“I want love, Mother,”

said Howard, his scowl evident in every hard syllable.

“No, you want a pretty poppet to parade about on your arm. Someone who will inspire envy in every man you meet,”

she retorted. “Miss Vaughn’s features may not be remarkable, but she is a wonderful lady with so many fine qualities that only a fool would overlook her in favor of a frivolous bit of fluff. And I didn’t give life to a fool, Howard Gibson.”

Sadie couldn’t breathe. The fire burning in her face ate away all the oxygen in the air, leaving it impossible to fill her lungs as Mrs. Gibson rambled at length about the lady she believed her son ought to wed. And despite all the praise of Sadie’s good sense and kindness, it was Mrs. Gibson’s other words that rang through the church like the bells above.

*

They said love was blind, and while there was wisdom in such a belief, it was but a fraction of the truth. Yes, one ought to be blind to the foibles of life—those instances in which one’s behavior couldn’t be categorized as good or bad but simply a difference in opinion—but ignoring another’s inherent flaws wasn’t loving.

Dora Gibson adored her son as much as any mother could, but where so many of her ilk ignored their offspring’s blatant faults whilst claiming that to be the deepest sort of love, Dora couldn’t ascribe to such a belief. Firstly, true love was seeing another in all their broken glory and loving all the same. Secondly, how could she claim to care about her son and his happiness if she remained silent when his choices were leading him down bad paths?

“Miss Murray isn’t good for you,”

said Dora, her eyes tracking her son as he paced the edge of the vestry. “Miss Vaughn is a perfect choice, and I believe she is amenable to a courtship, so I cannot fathom why you are so determined to let her slip through your fingers! Again and again, you seek ladies who have more style over substance, and I cannot comprehend why.”

Howard turned to argue, but Dora knew the words before they emerged from his lips, and the frustration of this old debate pushed her to interrupt.

“Oh, no. Of course. You want an objectively beautiful lady. What does it matter if she is a dullard or villainess when the surface is so pleasing to behold?”

she said with a huff, throwing her arms wide. “Thank the heavens your father wasn’t so muleheaded, else you wouldn’t have been born, Howard Gibson!”

“Let it be, Mother—”

But Howard stopped when he turned to face her, his complexion growing ashen as his eyes stared past her.

Turning about, Dora followed his gaze to find the vestry door standing open. She had shut it. She had! Hurrying over, she pushed it closed, but the worn door latch slid free almost immediately, allowing the wood to swing open once more.

Insides churning, Dora closed her eyes with a wince before peeking through the opening to see all attention on her. Ignoring them, she searched the crowd and found Miss Vaughn’s seat empty.

Confound it.

*

Had Sadie boasted even a shred of self-possession left, she might’ve managed a sedate walk, feigning as though nothing were amiss in the world, but no amount of praise could soften the Gibsons’ stark words. Howard’s disgust dug into her heart like a knife—driven deeper by his mother’s assurances that being a good, sensible sort of girl made up for Sadie’s utter lack of outward enticements. How flattering.

With the silent scrutiny of the guests all pointed at her, Sadie couldn’t bear anything but a hasty retreat.

“…I believe she is amenable to a courtship…”

Good gracious! Did everyone know her feelings? Had Howard suspected them before today?

Blinking against the morning sun as she rushed through the church doors, Sadie searched for the lad who was watching over her gig. She dug into her reticule and freed a coin, tossing it over without bothering to check what it was. The boy snatched it from the air with a beaming grin—as well he should, as the flash of silver revealed she’d likely given him a sixpence, which was a generous sum even if Sadie had been absent the whole day.

But it mattered not a whit.

Pulling the reins into her hands, she swept up into the gig and gave Glory a nudge that set the mare trotting down the lane before any of them knew what was what. The movement set her down on the bench hard, knocking some sense back into her and forcing Sadie to breathe deeply and calm herself before she caused an accident; Glory was well-trained enough to manage most of the work herself, but a crazed driver was a menace to everyone.

But when the frenzy faded and her pulse slowed, a sodden sorrow flooded her heart, and before she knew what she was about, her silly eyes filled with tears, making it impossible to see. Trying to keep the reins steady, Sadie cleared her vision with a swipe of her wrist, but more replaced them.

There was no way to categorize the type that slid down her cheeks, for embarrassment and sorrow blended into an agonizing mess that pulsed through her, making it difficult to breathe. Mrs. Gibson had all but declared Sadie’s undying love for Howard, and he hadn’t shown the slightest interest in his unappealing friend. No matter how sensible a choice she was.

And that knowledge groaned within her.

Such anguish was terrible enough to bear in the privacy of one’s own heart, but the wagging tongues would scatter this about. Within one day, the whole of Danthorpe would know. Within two, Thornsby would be abuzz. And with such tittle-tattle to feast upon, her humiliation would feed the horde for weeks to come. There was no hiding from it.

She winced, her eyes sliding closed for the barest of moments, and when they opened again, her arms jerked at the sight of a gentleman in the road before her. He leapt backward, sending his hat flying, and she cursed herself as she tugged at the reins, jerking Glory to a stop before she ran the poor fellow down, and then doubly cursed herself when she recognized her would-be victim.

“Mr. Reed, I do apologize,”

she said in a rush, tying off the reins. Though the desperate need to set things to rights pushed her to leap from the gig to fetch his hat, Sadie forced herself to keep her wits about her. Climbing down carefully without breaking her neck, she babbled her excuses and remorse as she bent down to snatch up the hat.

Brushing it off, she turned around and offered it to the gentleman, who stood as rigid as a statue, staring at her. Though she shared her sister-in-law’s tendency to grow flustered in such situations, Sadie would be forever grateful that she did not share Joanna’s tendency to blush as red as a tomato. She forced herself not to fidget and held out the hat with a wince.

“Please accept my apology, sir,”

she said, though the gentleman didn’t move to take the hat.

For all that he must be about Sadie’s age, the gentleman had the air of someone far older, with a seriousness that bespoke one closer to his dotage than one just stepping into his fourth decade of life. But Sadie didn’t know if that impression was due to the grim expression or the starkness of his color. Born with a pale English complexion, his hair was as black as pitch, and his eyes were near enough to midnight that one might believe he had no irises at all. That perpetually furrowed brow glared at her, and despite having taken after her tall mother, it felt as though Mr. Reed towered over her.

With a tremulous smile, Sadie nudged the hat toward him again. “I do hope nothing was damaged.”

Yet still, the gentleman didn’t move or speak, which threatened to make her very silly eyes tingle once more. For all that Mrs. Gibson believed her to be “sensible,”

Sarah Vaughn was proving quite ridiculous at present, but she refused to cry in front of anyone—let alone Walter Reed.

“Think nothing of it,”

he murmured in a voice that was as warm and rich as a cello in the hands of a master, and Sadie couldn’t comprehend how that inviting sound emerged from such a cold soul.

Giving a bob, she turned around to face her gig, and Mr. Reed’s hand appeared before her. She stared at it a moment before accepting the assistance and climbing up, but rather than continuing on his way, the gentleman moved as though to follow her up into the seat.

“What are you doing?”

she blurted, her eyes widening.

“You are clearly agitated and require assistance.”

“I assure you I can manage the gig on my own.”

Sadie ignored the twitch of her conscience that reminded her how close she’d come to doing great harm to the gentleman, which was evidence enough that she wasn’t able to manage.

Only after another several moments did Mr. Reed deign to speak once more. “For my peace of mind, then, may I escort you home?”

As she glanced down the way she was supposed to go, Sadie’s rattled thoughts struggled for purchase, trying to grasp both what she wished to do and Mr. Reed’s request. The sentiments from the church wove their way into that tumult, making themselves known as pain pulsed through her. Her eyes burned, warning her that her control was quickly slipping from her grasp, and the thought of anyone being party to such a display only added to her mortification. Which, in turn, made her eyes burn all the more.

“That is kind of you, Mr. Reed, but I assure you I will manage—”

“Nonsense,”

he said, but Sadie snatched the reins and shook her head.

“I am returning home, and I do not want to leave you stranded in Thornsby.”

Mr. Reed’s brow hardened further. “I can walk back, Miss Vaughn, but you are clearly in need of assistance—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, sir. That is kind of you to offer, but it is unnecessary,”

she said, and before he could step up, she flicked the reins and set Glory moving down the road once more. The world quickly blurred as her feelings took control, spilling down her cheeks as she made her way home.