Love Language (The Aristocrat Diaries 1)

Nobody had ever bothered to correct it.

It gave the church a bit of extra character, if you asked me.

Caleb pulled into the carpark, right into a designated spot.

“Fancy,” I quipped.

He chuckled. “My grandmother’s. She’s been here since before the storm.”

I smiled. “Edith Scott?”

Caleb grimaced. “That’s her.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Edith Scott was a God-fearing woman who was the first to show up at church every single Sunday morning.

She was also the first to sign up to a hen party.

She was a wonderful enigma.

The world needed more Ediths, in my not-so-humble opinion.

“Is she here now?”

“Of course she is. Why do you think I’m here? Do you think I woke up this morning and chose to come here?”

I laughed and got out of his car. The boot was filled with blankets, warm clothes, and whatever tinned goods we could spare.

Fortunately, we could spare a lot, given Aunt Cat’s endless apocalyptic prophecies. She did rather tend to spiral into the depths of the Internet and come out wrapped in a very extensive conspiracy theory on a semi-regular basis.

All right, it was a regular basis.

She really needed to talk to somebody.

“Caleb! You’re late!”

I grinned as Edith Scott approached us, dressed in her Sunday best. She wore a grey, two-piece tweed skirt suit with a white blouse, and I had no doubt that she had a matching hat at home.

“Good morning, Mrs Scott.”

Edith perused me with beady eyes, then slid her glasses down over her nose. “Oh!”

I knew what was coming.

She dipped into a curtsey far lower than any woman should be doing, and that was before you considered the fact she didn’t need to curtsey to me at all.

“Mrs. Scott, I’ve told you—”

“And I’ve told you, Lady Gabriella, that I curtseyed to your great-grandmother, and I’ll do so to you. Some of us respect our ancestry.”

With a tilt of my head, I accepted the respect she gave to my ancestral line.

For some people, tradition was too ingrained in their life. Edith was one of those.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scott.” I smiled as I took her hands in mine. “Caleb has helped me gather supplies from the house—can we get assistance to bring things in? My father and my aunt are away for a wedding, but I’d like to help however I can.”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course. We could use help serving food. It’s approaching dinnertime and many people haven’t been cleared to return home.”

Caleb grinned. “We can help with all that, Grandma. Do you want me to take you home, La—”

“Don’t be daft,” I cut him off. “I’ll do whatever is needed of me. Where is the food being served?”

“I’ll take you in, dear,” Edith said. “Caleb, I’ll send a few people out.” She grabbed my elbow and maneuvered me into a back room of the church where several people were. “Help is required in the carpark, if you don’t mind.”

They rushed to it.

“Amazing what delinquents do to clear their records,” Edith mused.

“Delinquents?”

“Community service. There are few places for people to repent for their crimes.” She bustled me over to the door. “Reverend John! Lady Gabriella Hastings is here.”

Oh, to be Miss Gabriella Hastings.

Reverend John appeared and took my hands. “Lady Gabriella, of course.” He bowed his head. “We appreciate you coming down.”

“Reverend,” I returned with equal respect. “I’d like to help. What can I do?”

“We’re about to distribute lunch. Many families in low-lying properties have been displaced, and we’re trying to find other accommodation. The Fox and Hound is cut off by both flood water and a downed electric line, and—” He paused. “How did you get here? Is the road not flooded?”

I quickly explained. “We’re fortunate. If I can help, Reverend…?”

“Of course, yes. If you don’t mind serving soup.”

“Not at all. There are also excess blankets and pillows and some clothing in Caleb’s car, if anyone is in need.”

“They certainly will be. Is he there now?”

“He is. Mrs. Scott explained there was help, so I think he’s mucking in out there.” I undid the buttons on my coat and slipped it off. “Where can I hang this?”

“Let me take it for you,” the elderly man insisted, adjusting his own half-moon glasses before he took my coat from me. “If you’re sure you don’t mind helping.”

“Reverend John, the women of my family have served this village in times of need for as long as they’ve been here. I don’t intend to break the tradition.” I rolled up the sleeves of my cardigan. “Make sure Caleb isn’t slacking. You know he’s here under duress, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “He always is, Lady Gabriella. Every Sunday without fail. Doesn’t stop him helping with the Sunday School though, now.”

With a small laugh of my own, I stepped out into the main church. It wasn’t as busy as I’d seen it in previous storms, but a lot of the village was still without power, and for many of them, this was the only source of a hot meal.