“A last resort, but a sadly necessary one for some. Husbands and wives are kept apart, you know, and siblings, too. We do what we can, distributing coals and food to keep people in their own homes, but the parish purse has its limits. My bishop is of the opinion that those who can’t help themselves should be left to God’s mercy, but what His Grace doesn’t know won’t harm him.”

“That sounds somewhat heretical!”

“Ah no, I’m simply a practical man who believes there’s more than one way to bring God into people’s lives. You can’t frighten people with eternal damnation if they’re already living in hell, Lady Margaret, and you can’t nurture the spirit if the body is starving. To me, that’s just common sense. We’re very grateful, Susannah and I, for your interest in our parish.”

“I simply want to help,” Margaret said earnestly, “even more now that I know a little of what you do. I have not much to offer, but I am willing to learn.”

“Then that is all that counts, for it shows you have a good heart.”

“Susannah suggested that I could help you with your parish correspondence. One thing I can do is write a neat hand.”

“That is a most excellent idea. Bureaucracy is my biggest bugbear. What else has my sister suggested?”

“Teaching children sewing. Oh, and telling them stories.”

“Clever Sue, to pass that task on to you. She’s an eminently practical woman, my sister, and terrifyingly well-organised, but she’s a bit too—let us say, restrained—to be a good storyteller. While you now, my instincts are telling me that you are the type to throw yourself into it with gusto. Am I mistaken?”

Margaret burst out laughing. “No, you are quite right. I love making up stories for children, and telling them, too, for what it’s worth.”

“Oh, it’s worth a great deal more than some would credit. Life can be tough around here, even for little ones.”

“Then anything I can do to make life easier, I will do. But I don’t just want to dispense charity, Father Sebastian, I want to understand why charity is required in the first place.”

“Finding the root cause and doing something to alleviate it is exactly why I am here.” He smiled down at her. They had reached the rectory. She stopped to allow him to open the front door. He paused in the act of brushing past her and their eyes met. It was the strangest feeling, as if the breath had been knocked out of her. She was sure, in that moment, he felt it, too. But then he opened the door and muttered something about fetching tea, and she decided she must have imagined it after all.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Saturday, 17 March 1866 (Five Weeks Later)