The Watsons: Beginnings - Chapter 2
- Erin H
- Aug 15
- 8 min read
Dinner and Discussions
They all sat around the parlour before dinner, and Robert learned that the Willoughbys had been in York to collect some of their visiting family and to make travel arrangements for the rest. He was surprised that Mr. Willoughby would invite them to dine while all his family were gathered at his home and overwhelmed to meet so many people at once; nearly all of them were Willoughbys by name if not by birth.
Mr Henry Willoughby was the oldest of his brothers, but he and his wife accepted being called Mr and Mrs Henry in order to avoid too much confusion. They have four children; however, as they were twelve and under, they were only introduced to their parent’s guests before being sent upstairs. Mr and Mrs Francis came next and were followed by the Reverend Mr James who was yet unmarried.
Their host then informed them, “Our youngest brother, Thomas, married the daughter of a baronet and purchased a small estate in Somerset, so he was unable to join us. He is the only one now who does not reside in Yorkshire since Cassandra returned upon her husband’s death.”
“I believe I remember hearing that Thomas married quite well, did he not? Is she not the daughter of a baronet?” questioned Turner.
Mr Henry laughed, “Indeed. One of the Musgrave girls—though there are so many of them that they none of them have much of a dowry to bring into marriage. However, the family is still an old and well-respected one, so the connection can only benefit his family.”
Robert noticed that most of the women of the party had ignored the conversation, but Mrs Beauclerk was clearly listening and cringed when they spoke of the Miss Musgrave in question as if her family’s connections and fortune were her only assets. He only had a moment to consider this and what he knew about her before his host continued the introductions with his sister’s families. Apart from Mrs Beauclerk, the other three former Willoughby ladies had all married clergymen with positions in and around York.
The eldest daughter, Elizabeth—or Mrs Garforth, was the widow of a clergyman who now resided at Briddhalh with her young son, William; a strapping lad of eighteen who would be matriculating at Cambridge later that year. While the late Mr Garforth had left her a life-tenancy in his house at York, she chose to let the property after his death and reside with her brother.
“Eliza has been a boon to my dear wife and Cassie in giving them another companion when we are in the country,” he added. “Though Nina and Emma do not reside much further than York; so, we are all able to come together at least once or twice a year.”
Nina, or Antonina, was the wife of the Reverend Mr Hewgill while Emma was the wife of the Reverend Mr Hodgson. Both gentlemen held livings in Yorkshire, though the former was closer to Kyrkelidun than York.
Once they were all introduced, Turner joined Mr Henry and Mr Francis in political discussions and debates while Robert found himself among the other clergyman who entered into their own debate. He sat back in his chair; his expression thoughtful as he listened to the conversation unfold. Mr. Hodgson remarked about the duties of the clergy, and then Mr. Hewgill, who had more traditional views, took up the thread.
"It is all very well to speak of duty," Mr. Hewgill said, "but what is to be done when that duty is usurped? I was in Thirsk last month and heard of an itinerant preacher—one of these Methodists, no doubt—gathering crowds in the marketplace. Not a church in sight, and yet there he stood, proclaiming himself a shepherd to the flock. It is unseemly."
Mr. Hodgson nodded but replied mildly, "It is hardly a new concern. John Wesley himself has preached in these parts, and his followers have only grown in number. Even in Richmond, I have seen them gathering in barns and outbuildings when no church would receive them."
Mr. James, who had been listening with a hint of disapproval, cleared his throat. "But ought we not to be cautious? Too much descent leads to disorder. The Church was established for good reason, and those who stray beyond it risk more than their own souls."
Robert, who had remained quiet thus far, finally spoke. "I do not disagree with the dangers of unchecked zeal, but can we say the Church has done all in its power to guide these people? Many of them are poor laborers, men who toil on the moors or in the dales, rarely seeing their parson except on Sundays. They turn to these preachers because they speak to their needs in a way that sermons from the pulpit often do not."
Mr. Hewgill frowned. "And what then? Shall we invite them into our churches and allow them to dictate our doctrines?"
"Not dictate," Mr. Watson replied evenly. "But listen to them, perhaps. If a man seeks comfort in his faith, we should not scorn him for where he finds it. The Church must be strong, but it must also be a refuge."
There was a brief silence before Mr. Hodgson smiled slightly. "A fair point, Mr. Watson. It is easier to condemn than to instruct, but the latter serves the Church far better."
Mr. James sighed, shaking his head. "Perhaps you are right. But I would still rather see a congregation gathered under the roof of a proper church than in a farmer’s field."
Mr. Hewgill grunted in agreement, but Mr. Watson merely smiled. "As would I, sir. But if they will not come to us, then perhaps it is we who must go to them."
What Robert didn’t know was that, as he spoke to her brothers, Cassandra sat among her sisters and listened to their nearby conversation. She was impressed by Mr. Watson’s open-mindedness and more modern views compared to the old-fashioned views of her brother and brother-in-law. She caught herself smiling with his final comments, and, when she was asked by her sisters what she found so amusing simply replied, “I am just enjoying such a delightful evening among good company. It has been too long.”
Eliza gave her a knowing look which caused her to drop her smile. She had been miserable in her marriage and was intent on enjoying the freedom of being a widow, albeit one of little fortune, until the end of her days. While her husband had left her bereft of her dowry without even a small property to lease out for extra income like Eliza, she wasn’t completely destitute. Her brothers had been able to scrounge up £500 to gift her in place of her lost dowry. It was not required of them, and she was most grateful for their care, but she also was glad it was not enough to tempt any man to try and compromise her freedom.
As she would soon be thirty, though still attractive, her brothers had agreed that she was likely too old to find a husband with so little monetary incentive and nearly no connections of note. Luckily, she was well-educated and would always have a place in her brother’s house as long as she continued to help in the raising and education of her nieces and nephews.
Cassandra was debating joining the ladies’ conversation when the butler came in to announce dinner.
As everyone stood to move into the dining room, she inched her way towards Mr. Watson in hopes that he would ask to escort her into dinner as it was to be an informal arrangement.
Robert was startled when he rose to join the throng heading into the dining room and discovered the object of his interest so near at hand—and still alone. He hesitated only a moment before she turned, meeting his gaze.
“Excuse me, my lady, but if you are not otherwise engaged this evening, might I offer you my escort?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of hope.
She gifted him with another of her radiant smiles and nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm as he offered it. “Indeed, Mr. Watson. I must admit that I was hoping you would ask.”
His surprise left him in silent musings until they were both seated at the long table, but he could not miss the sly grin that curved at her lips every time she glanced at his perplexed visage.
He wondered aloud as the soup was served, “If I may ask, why were you hoping I would ask you?”
She chuckled lightly at the surprise in his voice. “Well, while it might not reflect well on me, I must admit that I was listening to your conversation earlier with my brothers.”
She left him to muse on this as she began to eat.
“And—may I ask—what you thought of our discourse?” he asked after a few bites.
She nodded, approving his acceptance that a woman might have her own thoughts and opinions on a man’s conversation. “In fact, I quite agree with you. Not everyone has the means to attend services regularly. In remote areas, where the church is too far for those without the means to travel—especially in poor weather—it is understandable that parishioners might turn to any seemingly knowledgeable man who comes their way.”
His only response at first was a raised eyebrow, and she wondered if she had said too much. Just then, the next dish was brought out.
“It is not often that I meet a woman interested in such matters,” he said once the servants had moved away.
She was about to take umbrage when he continued in the same composed manner, “Do you have any thoughts on how the clergy might better serve their more distant parishioners?”
She looked at him in disbelief, but as she met his gaze, her surprise turned to something else entirely—genuine astonishment at the honest curiosity in his expression.
She tilted her head, considering him. “Are you certain you wish to ask me that? You may find that once a woman is allowed to express an opinion, she has many more to share.”
His lips twitched, but he inclined his head in encouragement.
“Well then,” she continued, her tone turning more thoughtful, “perhaps the clergy might take a lesson from those itinerant preachers they so disdain and travel to their distant parishioners rather than expecting them to come to the church. A sermon delivered in a barn or a village square may not have the dignity of a pulpit, but it would at least be heard.”
She watched for his reaction, half-expecting resistance, but instead, he merely nodded, his expression contemplative.
“You would have us take the church to the people,” he mused. “A radical notion, but not without merit.”
She smiled, pleased to see that he was truly considering her words. “You see? A dangerous thing, asking a woman for her thoughts.”
He smiled back at her, “On the contrary, I see nothing wrong with it. After all, any clergyman worth his weight must learn to listen to both sexes in order to truly provide the necessary care to his flock.”
His words took her aback, but she was impressed to say the least. They continued on throughout the dinner, all but ignoring the other diners, and neither of them noticed the sly looks they received from her family and his.
If Cassandra had noticed the looks exchanged by her brothers, she might have realized that she was the only one who considered herself off the market.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction unless otherwise indicated. Some names, characters, businesses, places, and events are used in a fictitious manner or inspired by real historical figures. The author does not speak for or represent any real individuals, companies, corporations, or brands mentioned in this book.
Copyright © 2025 Eireanne Michaels (Erin Michelle Harris)
All rights reserved. No part of this book, except for material derived from the original fragment and manuscript, may be reproduced or used in any manner without prior written permission from the copyright owner, except for brief quotations in a review.
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