He looked down at her, his eyes as serious as she had seen them. "You read the Bible," he said. "You told me so. Where was our Lord to be found during his earthly life? Among the rich, yes. But far more often among the poor. And did He ever seem bored or unhappy? I am His servant, Lady Rachel, and therefore a servant of the poor. I believe I will be happy. You see, I am also a servant by choice."

There was a depth behind his eyes that was not quite a smile. Rachel stared, fascinated. She had never heard anyone speak quite like this before. Certainly not anyone of her own class. And certainly not a handsome young man who was more or less fashionably dressed and in attendance at a garden party held in his honor at one of the mansions of Richmond.

"Rache!" Lord Rivers was making his way across the lawn toward them, Celia Barnes on his arm. "We were about to call out the Bow Street Runners to search for you. And all the time you were ingratiating yourself with the new vicar. I hope you have been suggesting that he keep his sermons shorter than we have been used to. Forty minutes with Vicar Ferney, David, m'lad. And that was on the days when the text did not inspire lengthy reflections! Many is the time in the last few years I have regretted not having cushions installed in my pew as I am entitled to do."

They all laughed and turned toward the tables, where a sumptuous feast was still spread out. Rachel looked up at David Gower and smiled as she caught his eye. He gave her a warm and comfortable smile in return. There was no worship in his eyes, but there was kindness and friendship, she believed. It was a sensible look, one she would do well to emulate. Not only had she chosen to fall in love with a clergyman, but she had had the misfortune to choose a man dedicated to his calling.

Such an infatuation would just not do at all.