Dolly Wrenson, an uninhibited woman with real fire and passion. But there is someone in the family who revered Imogen as a saint. That’s the person you want, Sergeant. Speak to my brother, Percy. He’s been longing for Imogen to marry him one day.’
After kneeling in prayer at the high altar, Colbeck and Percy Vaughan rose to their feet. Though relatively small, the church had an abundance of interesting features and the curate enjoyed pointing them out. Colbeck’s attention was drawn to the finely carved corbels in the perpendicular roof, the heads on the north side being identified as William Whitchurch, a former rector, Henry VI, the reigning monarch when the roof was built, and the Duke of Buckingham, the contemporaneous landowner and lord of the manor. The pulpit dated from the late fifteenth century, its bowl carved from one piece of stone. Like many other things in the church, the lectern came from the Continent, the top being of Flemish brass and the steel pedestal hailing from Spain. The seventeenth-century reading desk was made out of an old box pew. The most unusual item was a barrel organ, reached by a quaint little staircase and able to play a couple of dozen tunes to the congregation.
Interested as Colbeck was, he felt that his guide was deliberately keeping him there because he was reluctant to talk about his family. The church was Percy Vaughan’sdomain. Inside it, he felt safe, in charge, at peace. When they came back out into the churchyard, however, he was tense and anxious.
‘You promised me that you’d talk more openly after we prayed,’ Colbeck reminded him. ‘Your church is a delight but I didn’t come all this way simply to admire it.’
‘I’m grateful that you
did
come, Inspector. I’d hate to have been left unaware of dear Imogen’s plight.’ The curate moistened his lips before continuing. ‘If you’ve spoken to my sister, she might well have told you that I was very fond of my cousin. So was my brother, for that matter, but George’s yearning is for ladies of a less virtuous kind. When I took him to task on the subject, he simply laughed at me.’ He pulled a face. ‘I suppose that every family must have its black sheep.’
‘In your case, the family also has a good shepherd.’
‘I took holy orders out of inner conviction,’ said Percy Vaughan, ‘but there was a degree of penance involved.’
‘I can’t imagine that you were in need of repentance.’
‘My mind was not as settled as it now is, Inspector. It was once occupied by a vision of life with Imogen, a hopeless vision because my feelings were not requited and because her parents had higher ambitions than to see their daughter married to a humble curate. But strong emotions can overpower us,’ he continued, ‘and I was in their grip for a long while.’
‘Your sister indicated something of the kind, sir.’
‘Poor Emma never understood what I was
really
feeling and I was unable to confide in her lest she should tell Imogen in an unguarded moment. That would have been humiliating.’ He looked at Colbeck. ‘You said that you were married?’
‘I am and happily so.’
‘Then you were able to follow your heart and choose freely.’
‘It was so in both our cases.’
‘You were fortunate – I am not.’ He let out a groan of pain. ‘Imogen is lost to me forever.’
‘She will be found,’ affirmed Colbeck. ‘Of that I have no doubt.’
‘Then you must have received a different answer when you knelt at the altar,’ said the curate, solemnly, ‘for all I heard was silence. Whenever I’ve prayed in the past, there was always a sign – however slight – that God was listening. He may not have been able to grant me my wishes but at least God was aware of them and that in itself was a consolation. Today in church, I prayed in earnest for Imogen and her maid to be returned to us without delay.’ Percy Vaughan looked bereft. ‘I got no answer, no hint even that my words had been heard. Do
After kneeling in prayer at the high altar, Colbeck and Percy Vaughan rose to their feet. Though relatively small, the church had an abundance of interesting features and the curate enjoyed pointing them out. Colbeck’s attention was drawn to the finely carved corbels in the perpendicular roof, the heads on the north side being identified as William Whitchurch, a former rector, Henry VI, the reigning monarch when the roof was built, and the Duke of Buckingham, the contemporaneous landowner and lord of the manor. The pulpit dated from the late fifteenth century, its bowl carved from one piece of stone. Like many other things in the church, the lectern came from the Continent, the top being of Flemish brass and the steel pedestal hailing from Spain. The seventeenth-century reading desk was made out of an old box pew. The most unusual item was a barrel organ, reached by a quaint little staircase and able to play a couple of dozen tunes to the congregation.
Interested as Colbeck was, he felt that his guide was deliberately keeping him there because he was reluctant to talk about his family. The church was Percy Vaughan’sdomain. Inside it, he felt safe, in charge, at peace. When they came back out into the churchyard, however, he was tense and anxious.
‘You promised me that you’d talk more openly after we prayed,’ Colbeck reminded him. ‘Your church is a delight but I didn’t come all this way simply to admire it.’
‘I’m grateful that you
did
come, Inspector. I’d hate to have been left unaware of dear Imogen’s plight.’ The curate moistened his lips before continuing. ‘If you’ve spoken to my sister, she might well have told you that I was very fond of my cousin. So was my brother, for that matter, but George’s yearning is for ladies of a less virtuous kind. When I took him to task on the subject, he simply laughed at me.’ He pulled a face. ‘I suppose that every family must have its black sheep.’
‘In your case, the family also has a good shepherd.’
‘I took holy orders out of inner conviction,’ said Percy Vaughan, ‘but there was a degree of penance involved.’
‘I can’t imagine that you were in need of repentance.’
‘My mind was not as settled as it now is, Inspector. It was once occupied by a vision of life with Imogen, a hopeless vision because my feelings were not requited and because her parents had higher ambitions than to see their daughter married to a humble curate. But strong emotions can overpower us,’ he continued, ‘and I was in their grip for a long while.’
‘Your sister indicated something of the kind, sir.’
‘Poor Emma never understood what I was
really
feeling and I was unable to confide in her lest she should tell Imogen in an unguarded moment. That would have been humiliating.’ He looked at Colbeck. ‘You said that you were married?’
‘I am and happily so.’
‘Then you were able to follow your heart and choose freely.’
‘It was so in both our cases.’
‘You were fortunate – I am not.’ He let out a groan of pain. ‘Imogen is lost to me forever.’
‘She will be found,’ affirmed Colbeck. ‘Of that I have no doubt.’
‘Then you must have received a different answer when you knelt at the altar,’ said the curate, solemnly, ‘for all I heard was silence. Whenever I’ve prayed in the past, there was always a sign – however slight – that God was listening. He may not have been able to grant me my wishes but at least God was aware of them and that in itself was a consolation. Today in church, I prayed in earnest for Imogen and her maid to be returned to us without delay.’ Percy Vaughan looked bereft. ‘I got no answer, no hint even that my words had been heard. Do
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