Page 52 of Molly Boys
Ev wasn’t sure the good reverend would be able to handle a confession detailing his hedonistic lifestyle, his predilection for men, or his dangerous attraction for a certain detective inspector. Instead they sat for a few moments in companionable silence as Ev stared at the altar and the crucifix mounted above it.
“I don’t want to join the church,” Ev finally admitted quietly. “I don’t want to take the vows.”
“Do you think this is a surprise to me?” The man’s voice was kind.
“My father…” Ev blew out a tired breath. “He promised that after I graduated Cambridge that I would be given a year’s grace. That I would be able to live in London before I was expected to be ordained. Then I would have to return to the family estates in Derby.”
“What changed?”
“My father,” Ev sighed. “As usual, he changed his mind and now he’s hounding me to return. And the more he does the more I feel like I’m drowning. I’m a selfish creature, I can’t handle other people’s problems. I can barely handle my own. Trust me when I say God would not want me guiding any of his flock.”
“God never gives us anymore than we can handle.”
“Is this the moment you tell me God works in mysterious ways?” Ev said dryly.
“No.” Reverend Edwin shook his head in amusement. “But I do believe he has a plan.”
Ev barely resisted rolling his eyes. “No offence, but I don’t want that life. The one that’s been planned out for me.”
“Have you told your father that?”
“What?” Ev blinked.
“Forget about God for a moment.”
“I’m sure that’s sacrilegious, can’t you be struck off for that?” Ev’s mouth twitched.
“I’m sure he’ll forgive me this once.” Reverend Edwin smiled softly. “But my question stands. Have you told your father you don’t want a life in the church?”
“He knows that I–”
“No,” he interrupted. “Have you told him?”
Ev thought back over the years to the handful of actual conversations he’d had with his father. Had he told him? Had he actually said the words? Or had he been so busy rebelling that he’d forgotten to tell his father what he was rebelling against?
He frowned. “I… don’t know.”
“Perhaps you should,” Reverend Edwin suggested. “Maybe you should write a letter and say what is truly in your heart, be honest. I’m sure no father would wish their child unhappiness.”
“You have met my father.” Ev raised one brow, knowing full well the reverend had indeed met his father in the flesh and there was no disguising the marquess’ difficult personality.
“I have.” He nodded, wisely choosing not to comment on Everett’s father’s temperament. “But if you don’t tell him you don’t wish to join the church, how can you hope for anything to change?”
“I doubt my father will change his mind,” Ev said in defeat. “If it was my brother’s decision, if he had already inherited and become marquess, he may have settled a living on me and allowed me to choose another path.” Not that he wished his father dead.
“Perhaps think on it. There’s time yet, I’m sure.” A middle-aged woman beside the pulpit beckoned the reverend. “I’m sorry, it looks as if I’m needed. Would you like to stay for tea? You can wait in the rectory if you would like.”
“Thank you for the kind offer but I’m unable to. I have a pressing engagement elsewhere.”
He didn’t, but he also wasn’t in the mood to stay and talk further. After being cooped up for the last few days recovering, he felt restless.
Reverend Edwin nodded as he rose from his seat and smoothed his cassock. “Just remember, Lord Stanley, whether you choose to take the vows or not, you are always welcome here at St. Mary’s.”
“Thank you, Reverend.” Ev gave him a small but genuine smile.
He watched as the older man hurried down the aisle. Despite Ev’s aversion to becoming a man of the cloth himself, and his intense dislike of Bishop Goodwin, he found he rather liked the sweet-faced and softly spoken Reverend Edwin.
He sat for a few moments longer, contemplating the other man’s words. Ev couldn’t really see his father relenting, but maybe they should have an honest conversation for once. The thought was about as appealing as a dose of the clap.