Anne Perry s Christmas Mysteries Page 0,49

Wellbeloved. Clarice's exact words had been: "She has opinions about everything, which she'll share at the drop of a hat. Be busy about something else, and even if she's talking complete nonsense, for heaven's sake don't argue with her. Local knowledge is her great achievement."

Clarice was probably right. Dominic had not had to deal with maids before; he'd never even considered them.

It was time he did so. He rose and went to find Clarice, who was busy in the kitchen warming two flatirons on the top of the range, ready to iron his shirts, which she had washed the day before. Cat and dog were squashed into one basket together by the stove. Dominic looked at Clarice with a deep stab of guilt. She was not beautiful in the traditional sense, except for her eyes, which were wide, clear gray with dark lashes. There was far too much character in her face, too much readiness to laugh or lose her temper. She was quick with her opinions and far too candid for a vicar's wife, and much too perceptive of the truth. He could no longer count the times she had embarrassed him. But she was also generous and swift to forgive. She was without arrogance, and he had never known her to make a promise and fail to keep it.

She could have married a man able to give her a large house and maids to look after her every need. She could have had a carriage, fashionable clothes, and invitations in society. Could she really be as happy as she seemed, face flushed, apron around her waist, testing the flatirons for temperature?

She looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm going to see Mrs. Wellbeloved," he told her. "I need her advice as to whom I should call on in this weather. She'll know."

"Excellent idea," she said approvingly. Then she frowned. "Do be tactful with her, won't you? She's a funny creature."

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I had noticed that, my dear."

"Wrap up well," she advised. "It's bitter outside."

"I'd noticed that, too." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, and before she could catch his arm he turned and went into the hall.

He put on his heavy boots, a thick, woolen scarf around his neck, then his overcoat, gloves, and a hat. Even so he was unprepared for the blast of cold as he opened the front door. Instead of yesterday's chill in the air, there was a slicing wind with the cruel edge of ice on it, and the glare of light off the snow caused him to narrow his eyes. He stepped out and heard the crunch of his own footsteps. It would be very nice to change his mind and go back inside, but he could not afford to. Part of being a vicar was not listening to the tempting little voice that told you another day would do, or that there was somebody else to perform the task. He was the man people looked to here to do the work of God, and he must not fail.

He crossed the village green, seeing only a few other footprints in the snow. The pond was partially iced over, the bench beside it deserted. The air was gray. The houses seemed to huddle down, roofs pale; thin trails of smoke smeared up against the sky. Only the blacksmith's glowing forge looked inviting. Beyond the village, the woods were tangled branches of black, here and there denser where the evergreens clustered, pale-patched where the snow clung.

He passed an old woman with a bundle of sticks and called "good morning" to her, but her reply was mumbled and he could not make out her words. He increased his pace and finally felt the warmth return to his body.

Ten minutes later he was knocking on Mrs. Wellbeloved's door, and was relieved when she opened it and invited him in. He stepped over the threshold into a dark, warm hallway smelling of floor polish and smoke.

"Well, now, Mr. Corde," she said briskly. She refused to call him vicar. "What can I do for you? 'Fraid you'll have to manage the housework yourselves today. Got company coming, like I said."

"I need your advice, Mrs. Wellbeloved," he replied, watching her expression change immediately and guarding himself from smiling.

"Ah, well, that I can do, Mr. Corde. What is it you need to know? Come in an' sit a moment; it's my duty to spare you that long." She led the way into a neat