“Enough,” Claire finally broke in firmly, giving Jacob and Louisa hard looks. “We will discuss this after classes have been finished for the day.”
A tentative knock on the door caught all of their attention. Sara looked up to see Mr. Pomeroy standing uncertainly, his hat in his hands, his eyes glancing from person to person.
“Mr. Pomeroy,” Claire greeted as they all curtseyed, Jacob moving over to shake his hand. “We weren’t expecting you today. What brings you to Ridgestone?”
“I apologize for arriving uninvited, Mrs. Knightly,” the vicar said.
“Goodness, think nothing of it,” she assured him. “Please sit. Have you eaten lunch?”
“Ah, no, thank you, no,” he said, taking a spot at the table. “I’m afraid this isn’t quite a social call.”
Sara swallowed the rest of the ants. “Is something amiss?” she asked, concerned.
Mr. Pomeroy turned his warm chocolate brown eyes to her and Sara’s heart did a little stutter. Not as noticeable as it had been in the past, but it was still there. “Not to worry,” he said. “Nothing has happened to me or to anyone in the parish. However,” he continued, turning back to Claire and Jacob, “I have received word that the elderly vicar in Ramsey Gate has fallen ill. The bishop has requested I travel there to tend his parish while he recovers.”
Sara’s heart slowed down, dismay filling her chest. “Ramsey Gate?” she echoed quietly. “But it is so far away.” He could be gone for over a sennight, considering the distance to be covered; it was at least a full day’s ride at full gallop. Not to mention the time it might take for the elderly vicar to recuperate.
Louisa shot her a disapproving look but refrained from commenting. Mr. Pomeroy addressed her statement. “Yes, and is a sizeable parish compared to Taft. This is why the bishop feels the village can spare me; he perceives there is a greater need for stability and guidance in the larger community.”
Jacob’s brows rose and he offered a smile. “That is quite a vote of confidence. This could mean great things for your career.”
“Yes,” Mr. Pomeroy acknowledged with a grimace. “It is unfortunate that it may be at the expense of another, but that cannot be helped. I have asked Mr. Dodsworth to take over the services until I return.”
Mr. Dodsworth? The ancient curate? Sara hoped dismay didn’t show on her face. The old man rambled and stared at the young ladies’ bosoms during his sermons. Her appetite was quickly disappearing.
“Well, I am sure he can manage in your absence,” Louisa joined in the conversation.
“Yes,” Mr. Pomeroy replied with slight hesitation. “But I do have my concerns. He is quite elderly.”
“If we can assist in any way, we will,” Claire assured him.
“I have no doubt.” Mr. Pomeroy’s gaze shifted back to Sara. “And that is why I am here. Miss Collins, I was hoping you would continue to do the flower arrangements.”
She offered a weak smile, hoping it hid her disappointment at his news. “Of course.”
“And if you don’t mind, could you continue making the parish visits?”
Louisa inhaled sharply through her nose and spoke again. “That is asking a bit much, don’t you think?” Her brow lowered and looked at him with what could only be interpreted as a glare.
Sara inwardly sighed. She did not understand why Louisa was so belligerent in regard to the vicar. Why was she so insistent in providing her unsolicited protection from the man? Sara loved Louisa dearly, but her stubbornness could be wearying.
Mr. Pomeroy blinked. “I do realize that I am placing a burden on Miss Collins. However, she has been accompanying me since my arrival some months ago and is familiar with the needs of the different families. In addition, Mr. Dodsworth is too advanced in his age to be expected to fulfill such a duty.”
“Would that not be an indication that the man should retire from the position?” Louisa argued. “Or at the very least have a young apprentice who can?”
“Louisa,” Jacob interrupted, “I do not believe Mr. Pomeroy came here to discuss Mr. Dodsworth’s suitability.”