Spoiled by Ann Barker Page B

are merely the curate?’
    â€˜No indeed,’ Michael replied, pulling himself together. ‘It’s an agreeable surprise to see you here. I had not expected you today. I was feeling very nervous, I must confess.’
    â€˜It’s not at all surprising,’ said Lusty, his tone indulgent now that his superiority had been established. ‘You will soon become accustomed. I shall turn up from time to time, you may be certain, just to ensure that you are on your toes. Come now. You may help me into my things.’

    Much to his annoyance, after the service was over Michael was forced to acknowledge to himself that his greatest disappointment had been that he had been unable to do anything to impress Miss Granby. She and her father had come in just before the start of the service and had taken their places near the front. She had been dressed on this occasion in a pink gown and pelisse and a straw bonnet with pink ribbons and feather to match. He had imagined her being in the congregation whilst he captivated all present with his powerful and eloquent words. Instead, he had been obliged to wander about after Henry Lusty, holding things for him, reading what was passed to him and, in his own mind, impressing nobody at all, least of all himself. It had taken all the self-control of which he was capable to conceal his disappointment. At the close of the service, he had wanted to disappear into the vestry and never come out. He would have been quite surprised to discover that he was far from being the only disappointed person present.
    When the new vicar had been selected, Lusty had been the preferred candidate of the Bishop of Sheffield. Perhaps partly out of guilt because he had robbed the clergyman of his bride, Ashbourne had confirmed the appointment. However, the villagers did not care for Mr Lusty, who had never taken very much interest in parish affairs, preferring to attend to his duties as bishop’s chaplain. Michael, on the other hand, had made a favourable impression even in the few days that he had been in the village and had begun to endear himself to many. He had listened tolerantly to Samuel’s ramblings, and exclaimed appreciatively about Janet’s cooking. His personal call on Mrs Davies, and his willingness to taste her peapod wine had not gone amiss. He had made sure that he was up in time to thank the lad who had come to clean the grate. The landlady at the Olde Oak was partial to a handsome young man and had enjoyed her conversation with him; some of the children who attended the school had spoken to the new curate and received a cheerful reply. This had duly been reported to their parents. The congregation was a large one that day. Most of them were local to the village, but among them were Sir Lyle and Lady Belton and their daughter Amelia. Everyone had come to church hoping to see Michael in action.
    Evangeline Granby had been among those who were disappointed, somewhat to her own surprise. She had come intending to look for things in the curate’s conduct of worship in which she might find fault. Instead, she had had to watch Henry Lusty taking charge whilst Michael acted as his assistant. The thing was that she found herself not watching Lusty at all, but observing the other clergyman instead.
Whether performing the tasks allotted to him by the vicar, or simply standing or sitting, he played his part with enormous dignity and grace. By the end of the service she realized, to her mortification, that whereas she had absolutely no idea of what Mr Lusty had said or done, she could have described Michael’s every gesture and movement in some detail.
    Mr Lusty, though pleased at the numbers present, was disappointed at the restlessness of his congregation. He was also a little baffled at their behaviour afterwards, as they dutifully thanked him for his message, but spent as long, if not longer, commending the curate for his reading, his stance, and his expression.
    â€˜You