Anne Perry s Christmas Mysteries Page 0,80

so deeply. Could Dominic find an answer for him? If Wynter, with a lifetime in the church, could not, then how could he, a novice? "I'll try to find a way for you to sort it out," he promised rashly. "Thank you for your honesty."

"If there were, we'd have found it by now," Boscombe said miserably. "What are you going to say to the bishop?"

"Nothing," Dominic replied, again rashly. He stood up. "I'm concerned with finding who killed the Reverend Wynter. Anything else is between you and God. Living with a woman to whom you are not married may be a sin, but it is not against the law. We will address that problem later. Perhaps after Christmas they will move me somewhere else. I hope not, but I cannot choose." He heard the roughness of grief in his own voice and was angry with himself. What had he to grieve over, when he was returning to the woman he loved, with no shadow over them or between them, except whatever he might create himself by being less than she believed of him? "First let us celebrate the birth of Christ, and leave other things until after that."

Boscombe held out his hand, blinking rapidly again. "Thank you."

Dominic gripped him hard. "But if I stay here, we will have to seek an answer one day."

"I know," Boscombe replied. "I know."

***

The morning dawned bright. The sky was a pale, wind-scoured blue, and the ice crust on the snow was hard enough to support a child's weight. The few ducks out, eager for bread, paddled across it without making a crack. Someone had been thoughtful enough to put out water for them, but it would need thawing every hour or two.

Clarice had baked bread, a skill she was very proud of because it had not come naturally to her. Dominic took a loaf to old Mr. Riddington and found him frail and hunched up in his chair. He was grateful for the bread, but even more for the company in his chilly and almost soundless world. Dominic brought in more wood and coal, making them both a cup of tea. He found it was more than two hours before he could decently leave the old man.

He went next door to check with Mrs. Blount and thank her for her kindness. Then he set out for home.

He was close to the green again when he was aware of footsteps behind him. He heard every crack and crunch of the ice. He turned to see the small figure of Sybil Towers struggling to catch up with him. Her mittened hands were waggling awkwardly as she tried to keep her balance, her cape was trailing lopsidedly, and her hat was a trifle awry.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he started back toward her. She looked so frantic and lonely, he had no choice.

"Good morning, Mrs. Towers. Are you all right?" He offered her his arm. "It isn't weather for hurrying, you know. Where are you going? Perhaps I can accompany you and see you don't fall."

"You are too kind, Reverend Corde." She grasped his arm as if it were a lifeline in a stormy sea. "Those poor ducks. I know Mrs. Jones is putting out bread and a little lard for them, such a nice woman."

"Which way are you going, Mrs. Towers?" he asked again.

"Oh, over there." She gestured vaguely with her free arm, nearly losing her balance again. "How are you settling in? Is Mrs. Corde finding the vicarage to her liking? A home matters so much, I always think."

"We both like it very much indeed," he answered.

"A good garden," she went on. "Old trees make a garden, don't you agree?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I expect in spring they are beautiful."

She told him how many blossom trees there were, then the various other flowers in season, all the way through to the tawny chrysanthemums, the purple Michaelmas daisies, and the offer of an excellent recipe for crab apple jelly. "One of my favorites, I confess," she said with enthusiasm. "I prefer the tart to the very sweet, don't you?"

They were now well across the green and into the lane at the far side. They had passed several cottages; the way through the woods lay ahead, winding between the trees. Presumably it led eventually to open fields and perhaps a farm or two. He had realized half a mile ago that she was not actually going anywhere. She needed to talk to him,