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were a tad dark and drab though, the furnishings older and worn, the wallpaper peeling in the corners.
    Don’t be so picky! She could have ended up in many places that were much worse, such as a ditch or a hovel in the woods.
    Because she was staying at Fox Run, she was viewing every detail through the wrong lens, comparing the rectory to Lord Run’s mansion. And she was comparing Vicar Bosworth to Lord Run too—when she shouldn’t. Such evaluations would only lead her down a very unsatisfactory road.
    She and the vicar were in his front parlor. He’d just given her a tour of the residence and grounds. The church and cemetery were next. They’d stopped for tea before continuing on.
    Their interactions were awkward, their conversation stilted and difficult, which was very odd for Evangeline. Typically, she was chatty and pleasant and liked to meet new people, but the vicar was quite grouchy and taciturn, and she hadn’t figured out how to lure him into a better mood.
    Whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice, he’d surreptitiously study her. From his furious frowns, it was clear he didn’t like her.
    She sighed. An arranged marriage was always a dicey proposition, but what was a potential bride to do if her potential husband developed an immediate dislike? The prospect was aggravating in the extreme.
    Perhaps it was her gray dress. The shade wasn’t flattering on her. It washed out the color of her hair and skin so she looked wan and pale, so maybe he was worried she was sickly or feeble. She wanted to point out that she wasn’t ailing, but she had no idea what topics were appropriate for their first encounter.
    “You don’t have a harpsichord or any other musical instruments,” she said. “How do you pass the time in the evenings? Do you play or sing, Vicar Bosworth?”
    “No, and I don’t enjoy frivolity. Music is a distraction that diverts me from my higher pursuits.” He made a waffling motion with his fingers. “The devil’s handiwork and all that.”
    “Music is the devil’s handiwork? Is that what you mean?”
    “I assume you received my letter of introduction, Miss Etherton.”
    “Yes.”
    “Then you know I read Scripture in the evenings. I wouldn’t care to have my contemplation interrupted by caterwauling.”
    “Yes, I understand how that would create problems for you.” She concealed her dismay. If she couldn’t play and sing to calm her mind, how would she carry on? “Thank you for writing to me. I actually wasn’t aware that I’d been betrothed, and when I learned about it, the news was a shock. Your letter went a long way toward alleviating my concerns.”
    She forced another smile, thinking he might smile too, that he might admit he was nervous, but he didn’t. He glowered at her.
    “How was the betrothal a shock?” he asked.
    “Miss Peabody, who owned the school, was gravely ill, and as her health failed, she had told me I would receive a bequest from her.” She chuckled. “Silly me, I expected it to be monetary.”
    “Monetary?”
    “Yes, it was money, but she used it as my dowry. She thought I should have a chance to marry and have a family of my own.”
    “I see.”
    “How about you? How did you meet Miss Peabody?”
    “Lord Sidwell mentioned her to me. He knew I planned to take a bride this year.” He puffed himself up. “I presume you’ve heard of Lord Sidwell? George Drake, of the Sidwell Drakes?”
    “Yes, I’ve heard of him.”
    “We’re cousins. He and I are very close.”
    “How lucky for you.”
    “So I’m sure you realize that—despite my lowly position in the church—I come from very elevated stock.”
    Evangeline fought to maintain a serene expression.
    As far as she could tell, Vicar Bosworth wasn’t close to the Drakes at all. He didn’t seem to know that Aaron Drake had arrived at Fox Run. Nor had Lord Run shared any glowing comments about Vicar Bosworth. If memory served, Lord Run had described the vicar as being all right .
    High praise