It was true that Sophie had, one time or twelve, made a point of introducing Posy to whichever unattached gentleman was to be found at the moment in Wiltshire, but this time…

This time Sophie knew.

This time it was love.

“Mr. Woodson,” she said, trying not to grin like a madwoman, “may I introduce you to my dear sister, Miss Posy Reiling?”

Mr. Woodson looked as if he thought he was saying something, but the truth was, he was staring at Posy as if he’d just met Aphrodite.

“Posy,” Sophie continued, “this is Mr. Woodson, our new vicar. He is only recently arrived, what was it, three weeks ago?”

He had been in residence for nearly two months. Sophie knew this perfectly well, but she was eager to see if he’d been listening well enough to correct her.

He just nodded, never taking his eyes off Posy.

“Please, Mr. Woodson,” Sophie murmured, “do sit down.”

He managed to understand her meaning and lowered himself into a chair.

“Tea, Mr. Woodson?” Sophie inquired.

He nodded.

“Posy, will you pour?”

Posy nodded.

Sophie waited, then when it became apparent that Posy wasn’t going to do much of anything besides smile at Mr. Woodson, she said, “Posy.”

Posy turned to look at her, but her head moved so slowly and with such reluctance, it was as if a giant magnet had turned its force onto her.

“Will you pour Mr. Woodson’s tea?” Sophie murmured, trying to restrict her smile to her eyes.

“Oh. Of course.” Posy turned back to the vicar, that silly smile returning to her face. “Would you like some tea?”

Normally, Sophie might have mentioned that she had already asked Mr. Woodson if he wanted tea, but there was nothing normal about this encounter, so she decided simply to sit back and observe.