Faces of the Wind

Chapter 10

"You may leave now, my children, may the Lord Jesus Christ bless you all," said Maverick, walking back to the altar.

The six ladies thanked him genuinely, their faces beaming and their hearts more alive than ever as they slithered like a group of colorful swans to Deane Chapel's door.

"Not you, Irene," he cried as Irene neared the door, "I need a word with you, my child."

Irene stopped short of leaving the chapel, turned and obediently walked back to her teacher, who stood admiring her small steps. It looked as if she were gliding on air. Her cheeks had a youthful flush and her eyes twinkled. A subtle smile elegantly curved her rosy, full lips.

"I hope nothing is amiss, vicar," she said in her soft, enchanting voice as she stood in front of Maverick. She had to tilt her head a little to look at the man who was almost half her height.

He beckoned her to sit on a bench. "Sit, my child," he said, his eyes tracing the last lady to leave and shut the door behind her.

She slowly took a seat on the edge of the bench, her thick, red cloak still on.

He crossed his arms and cooed, "Though I am a man of God, I am quite familiar with matters of the heart."

Irene looked up at him. His face was right above hers. She grew accustomed to his looks and no longer found him appalling. Beyond this ugly façade, she saw a kind, caring heart—one that probably understood her more than her own mother.

"I was once in love," he continued, "years ago."

"What happened?" She asked in a gentle, concerned tone.

He motioned for her to scoot aside and sat beside her, his thigh pressed against hers, but she was not offended. If only her father would sit so close and have a similar conversation with her. His hands were on his thighs. He stared into her blue eyes for a long moment and she at his lashless, browless, shallow ones.

"Some ten years ago, my sight landed on an unusual beauty," he said, smiling, "She was a lone star in a black sky. We danced once, twice, thrice... but didn't utter a word. We parted and I knew nothing more than her family name, so I began enquiring after her. She was the only daughter of an aristocrat facing ruin. I did not care to receive a dowry and all I wanted was her." He stopped and looked down at his hands, which were now locked, falling between his open knees.

"And then what happened?" Irene asked, "Did you speak to her?"

He nodded then looked back at Irene's angelic face. Her eyes were so alive, so young, so heartbreakingly innocent and naïve.

"We madly loved one another and met secretly for months, so I thought it would only be gentlemanly to propose." He stopped talking again.

Irene's eyes demanded more. "What was her response?"

"She broke my heart," his head fell forward that his chin almost touched his collarbone.

"Oh!" She lightly touched his shoulder with a concerned hand, deeply moved by his woeful expression.

"She said she had already given her word to the son of some duke."

"Why would she act as such if she loved you?"

He looked up into her eyes. "She believed it was her duty to look after her family and save her father from ruin, but I think she worried our children would look so horrid like me. What woman would want me when a young, dashing gentleman is in her pursuit?" He paused then added, "But she will forever have my love."

"I am very sorry," Irene's tone was ever so empathic.

A soft smile curled Maverick's wide mouth as he watched Irene's concerned expression. "I know what you're going through," he said, "and I wish to help you overcome what that lad Adrian has done to you."