Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(51)

Thinking that perhaps she was joking, Sara looked back at Perry. He gave her a helpless smile. Sara forced herself to shrug prosaically. “Well,” she said with a faint tremor of laughter in her voice, “I shall try to remember that, Mrs. Kingswood. I can’t think why it has escaped my notice all these years.”

“Perhaps you should try to be more observant of my son’s needs.” Martha nodded in satisfaction at the lesson she had just delivered. “You might remember that I prefer mine the same way, but without the sugar.”

Obediently Sara prepared the beverages the proper way, and settled back with her own cup of tea—no milk, extra sugar. After she took the first sip, she met Martha’s inquisitive gaze. The older woman’s lips compressed until thin vertical lines were scored all along the edges. “I assume you attended church when you were in London, Sara?”

The temptation to lie was strong. Sara gulped more tea and shook her head apologetically. “There wasn’t time.”

“There wasn’t time,” Martha repeated softly. “Hmph. I’m certainly grateful the Lord doesn’t give us such excuses when we entreat Him with our prayers. As busy as He is, He always finds the time for us. I should think we would all be willing to do the same for Him.”

Sara nodded ruefully, reflecting that Martha Kingswood’s record for regular church attendance was unmatched by anyone. Martha always arrived fifteen minutes early and sat in the front row. It was also her habit to leave fifteen minutes after everyone else, for she felt it was her special responsibility to give Reverend Crawford her opinions on how the sermon could have been improved. “Neither Perry nor I has ever missed a Sunday for any reason,” Martha was saying. “And neither did Mr. Kingswood when he was alive. ‘I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.’ Do you know where that quote comes from, Sara?”

“Job?” Sara guessed.

“Psalms,” Martha replied with a frown. “No woman aspiring to be Perry’s wife would ever consider missing a service, unless it was for some unavoidable reason.”

“Death? Natural disasters?” Sara suggested innocently, feeling Perry’s knee shove against hers in warning.

“Precisely so,” Martha said.

Sara was silent, all of her exuberance at being with Perry fading. She had come here to be with him, not to receive a lecture from his mother, no matter how well-intentioned. Why was Perry allowing it without a word? He was being complacent while his mother dominated their time together. Ignoring a twinge of resentment, Sara tried to steer the conversation in a new direction. “Tell me what happened in Greenwood Corners while I was away. How is old Mr. Dawson’s gout?”

“Much better,” Martha replied. “He actually put his shoes on the other day and went for a stroll.”

“His niece Rachel became engaged to Johnny Chesterson the day before last,” Perry added.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Sara exclaimed. “The Chestersons are lucky to have such a nice girl in their family.”

Martha nodded primly. “Rachel is the kind of spiritual, self-effacing girl that Mr. Kingswood always hoped his son would marry. She would never dream of drawing attention to herself…as some young women do.”

“Are you referring to me?” Sara asked quietly.

“I am making a point about Rachel.”

Slowly Sara set her cup and saucer on the table and looked at Perry, who had colored at his mother’s rudeness. “It’s a wonder you never courted such a paragon,” Sara told him, smiling although her chest was tightening with anger.

Martha answered for her son. “Perry was never free to court her or any other girls in the village. Someone else was always taking up his time with her demanding possessiveness.”

Sara felt her face turn red. “Was that you or me, I wonder?” Standing abruptly, she snatched up her cloak. “Excuse me. I think it’s time I left.”

Behind her, Martha gave a sharp exclamation. “What a rude display. I was only making conversation!”

As Perry bent to soothe his mother, Sara strode out of the house. She had never been angry in front of Perry before—she had always tolerated his mother with patience and courtesy. For some reason she had finally reached her limit. Swearing under her breath, she began the walk home. Her spine stiffened as she became aware of Perry hurrying to catch up with her. He had rushed outside without even stopping to put on a coat.

“I can’t believe you would storm off in such a manner,” Perry exclaimed. “Sara, stop and let me talk to you for a minute!”

She continued without even breaking stride. “I don’t feel like talking.”

“Don’t be angry with Mother.”

“I’m not angry with her. I’m angry with you for not defending me!”

“Sara, I can hardly tell her she’s not free to express her own opinions in her own house! You’re making too much of this.”

“She was insufferable!”

Perry gave a harassed sigh and adjusted his pace to match hers. “Mother was in high dudgeon today,” he admitted. “I don’t know what put her in such a state.”

“I think it’s safe to say I did. I always do, Perry. Haven’t you ever realized how much she dislikes me and any other woman that you associate with?”