Drops of Gold(74)

Caroline pressed her tiny hands to either side of her father’s face, turning his head until he looked fully at her once more. She didn’t speak, only smiled broadly.

“Services are beginning, Caroline,” he whispered kindly. “We’d best sit and listen.”

“That’s not Mr. Mockportant,” Caroline said full voice, noticing her uncle Harry in the vicar’s usual place. No doubt the entire congregation was thinking the exact same thing.

“No, it isn’t,” Layton answered so quietly Marion could hardly hear his words.

“I think we shall like church far better without him, don’t you?” Caroline looked to her father for confirmation. “He always looks mad—mad and sour.”

Layton smiled at her and nodded. Marion watched his arm slip around Caroline’s shoulders and pull her closer to him. “I love you, poppet,” he whispered to her.

Her tiny head rested against her father’s shoulder. Marion saw Lady Lampton wipe another tear from her eye.

They will be happy now, Marion thought, bowing her head as the service began. They will be happy.





Chapter Twenty-Six



The church roof hadn’t caved in or been struck by lightning. Layton took that as a good sign. He had come to church in an attempt to find some of that peace he’d told Marion he was beginning to discover in his life. Bridget’s death had been a tragedy, one he wished he’d done more to prevent, but he felt her soul was at peace, and his ought to be as well.

“Farland.”

Layton spun around, knowing only one person who insisted on addressing him by the title that was not yet his own. Mr. Sarvol. Bridget’s father.

Layton had seen the man a handful of times over the past five years but not at all in the previous six months. Those months hadn’t been kind. Sarvol weighed several stones less than he had, his hair nearly as thin as his face. His complexion was a study in contrasts, pale but blotchy. His eyes were still as coldly assessing as ever.

“Mr. Sarvol,” Layton acknowledged, guiding Caroline a little behind him. Sarvol had never made any attempt to grow acquainted with his granddaughter, and Layton didn’t entirely trust him to be civil.

“I want to talk to you,” Mr. Sarvol barked, his usual mode of speaking. It was a miracle Bridget had been a kind, likable person with such a father.

“Mater,” Layton called softly as she passed. Her eyes flitted between Layton and his father-in-law, a tinge of alarm in her look. “Will you take Caroline back to the Park? I will join you there.”

“Of course, Layton.” Mater reached for Caroline’s hand.

“Papa?” Caroline asked uncertainly, watching Mr. Sarvol with wariness.

“Everything is fine, poppet. I’ll be along soon enough.”

She still seemed unconvinced.

“Maybe Flip will let you play with his fobs.”

Caroline’s face lit up, and she took Mater’s hand. Layton breathed a sigh of relief as Caroline walked farther down the path from the church.

“Who was that man?” he heard her ask Mater.

Layton didn’t hear the answer. He eyed Mr. Sarvol nervously. What did the man want after so many years?

“The child doesn’t know me?” Mr. Sarvol seemed genuinely pained by the realization.

Layton could not summon much sympathy for him, despite the uncharacteristic flash of regret in the man’s face. “That is your doing, sir. I brought her to Sarvol House any number of times that first year. You refused to see her. You will recall I informed you that should you wish to make the acquaintance, you knew where she was to be found.”

“I am a busy man,” Mr. Sarvol said gruffly.

“As am I.”

Mr. Sarvol seemed to redden at the reference to his ill-mannered behavior. Layton had never known Mr. Sarvol to be the least bit discomposed by anything said to him.

“You attended church today,” he said, bushy brows furrowed.

“As you can see.”

“Ain’t seen you here in years.” It sounded almost like an accusation.

“Perhaps I am turning over a new leaf.”

Mr. Sarvol nodded slowly. “Comes a time when a man has to reevaluate things.” He continued nodding. “Starts to rethink the way he’s lived his life.”

Layton watched silently, wondering what had come over the man who had accepted Layton’s request to marry his daughter but had never been remotely friendly.

“I’ve been rethinking some things,” Mr. Sarvol said, obviously uncomfortable with the admission, though he had said as much a moment before. “When I saw you were staying for services, I sent my man back to Sarvol House.”

Layton listened in wary silence. He had no idea what his father-in-law was getting at.