We laid my dear brother to rest yesterday. As you can imagine, the church was packed to the rafters, with many having to stand outside in the rain. It is some comfort to know just how valued and highly thought of Sebastian was. The funeral service was delivered by his curate, Mr. Glass, who will now take responsibility for the parish. The archbishop wished to lead the mourning, but I felt certain Sebastian would demur. I fear I have offended the archbishop, but I refuse to feel guilty about upholding Sebastian’s values to the end.

As to my own future, though Mr. Glass has assured me there is no urgent need for me to quit the rectory, my staying here without Sebastian is quite improper. My parents would welcome my return, for they are both extremely infirm, but I am loathe to leave Lambeth, and will make use of Sebastian’s modest bequest to find alternative accommodation. The one consolation for my loss is knowing that by continuing with my work here, I am honouring my brother’s memory. Sebastian would wish me to stay here. If I can do so, then I am determined that I will. I owe it to him to protect his legacy.

Margaret, I am deeply sorry to have to impart such dreadful news, and at a time of year which should be filled with joy. Your letters will continue to reach me through the good offices of Mr. Glass, wherever I may be. You are in my thoughts and prayers as ever.

God bless,

Susannah

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

New York, January 1869

IT WAS A MISERABLE, cold day and the snow had turned to sleet. Pulling her scarf up over her mouth, Margaret set out across Washington Square. Two weeks had passed since Susannah’s letter had reached her. She had settled down happily to read her account of the Christmas party, and could not, at first, take in the contents of that terrible addendum. It took some moments, gazing at the tear-stained paper, before the awful news sank in.

Even now, she could scarcely believe that Sebastian was gone. The initial shock had given way to a deep sadness that was not only grief for the man she had once imagined herself in love with but also a profound sense of sympathy for Susannah and all the men, women, and children of Lambeth whose lives he had touched and improved. How could Sebastian, who had been so full of life and so filled with love for his God and his flock, have been so cruelly and so casually struck down? Why had he been so foolish as to intervene? A silly question, for Sebastian would have been incapable of turning a blind eye, even though he’d be perfectly aware he was taking a risk.