The first thing Father George Kemble did when he stepped out of the train station and looked around at the dock, the red-tile roofed houses, and the cliff with the abbey in the background, was scowl. Not the usual expression for visitors, but Kemble was hardly a visitor. He had been here before, and he was not going to be able to leave any time soon -unless that wimp Richards magically recovered - and he was as displeased to be here now as he had been before. Big things were happening in Middlesbrough. The bishop and people close to the bishop were there. There was the promise of being able to climb social ladders and become someone important there. Whitby, on the other hand, was a glorified smuggler's den and fisherman's slum. Safe for the wealthy tourists in summer, there was nothing here. Monsignor Lacy could go to hell for sending him here. 

There was supposed to be a carriage to pick him up and take him to the presbytery. George squinted his eyes and looked around. Of course, it wasn't there. How he hated this place. No doubt it would get worse, once he evaluated the state of his parish. He had the misfortune of knowing Richards and his style. No doubt all his hard work had been undone. This was hell. Now where was that bloody carriage?

Kitty had gone to the post office, occasionally a friend of hers in america would forward her some fan mail that still came her way on a blue moon, and it always brought a huge smile to her face. She was going to head home with a smile on her face when she saw something that made her blood run cold. At the station stood a figure that she thought was buried in her past. Old feelings of anger and shame welled up and her face contorted into one of misery at just the sight of him. It couldn't be that he was working there, they had a fantastic priest.

Still, she had to find out what was going on so she marched up to him.

"What in tarnation are YOU doing here!? I thought you'd crawled into some hole like yer kind always do." It was a bit harsh but she was freed from the place completely and felt she could speak freely. She had tried to be kind to him, maybe liked to mess with him, but she had wanted to try so hard. He made her feel like a failure and worse, an embarrassment. She was glad he was gone and his face was one of the last ones she wanted to see. It was so hard to resist punching him.

George's scowl became more pronounced when he heard a sadly familiar voice and he turned to look at her. She had given him a good number of headaches. He had never been able to understand why she wanted to be a nun, when it was so obvious that it did not suit her in any way. She might be able to take a vow of poverty, but she certainly did not behave with the humility that came with a simple life, and probably that had irritated him the most about her. And as she had just proven, she was rude beyond measure. She certainly wouldn't be able to vow obedience, for she was one of the most stubborn women he knew. And as for the vow of chastity... Well... His eyes landed on her belly and his scowl turned into a self-congratulatory smile.

"Miss Calamity, congratulations on your new vocation. Or: of course I should say 'Mrs....'?" He was only faking ignorance in that regard. He had been informed on the tasks that Richards had left him and had seen that Miss Calamity was still to be married. And he rejoiced in being proven right about her.

Kitty tried to not let him get under her skin, but he was quite gifted at that. She shook her head, "Don't look so pleased with yourself. I may not be married, but I'm far happier than you'll ever be. For a man who is supposed to be a man of God you are sorely lackin in compassion and forgiveness. I can see you ain't changed." She folded her arms.

"Why are you here? We got a priest. A good one who I believe fits the position quite well." She walked up to him and silently prayed her back wouldn't suddenly bother her now. If this man gave his pleased smile seeing her in pain, she knew she'd punch him right in the nose.

Her words displeased him greatly, but he refused to show it. He decided not to respond to her insults. She just proved the fact that she was rude. All he had ever wanted to do was help her. "Father Richards couldn't handle the pressures of this parish anymore..." he told her calmly, but he couldn't resist adding: "I wonder why..."

Kitty was prepared to say something again when he told her that Father Richards wasn't there. She froze and seemed deep in thought. "W-what? No, I never did cause him a bit of trouble. I ain't tried ta be a nun in a while. We had a very good talk when we met.." She tried to search why the guy would just leave, he didn't strike her as a coward. "He .. had to have a reason." As terrible as Kemble had been to her, she didn't believe him to be a straight up liar. "He.. didn't say it was me, he wouldn't have!" She looked back at the man before her, she knew she wasn't the reason. There was a little concern though that he had said something to Father Kemble, something she wasn't aware of.

He could tell her that he didn't know the exact reason why Richards had left. But he could also keep quiet and leave her wondering whether it was her... He chose the latter. Maybe that would finally make her reflect on her behaviour. "Never worry, Miss Calamity. I'm here to take over Father Richard's tasks and I will gladly officiate the wedding."

Kitty folded her arms and frowned more as she looked at him. "You're not the one I wanted to marry us. Can ya do it without even trying ta embarrass me?" She stared at the man wondering what he would say. She wasn't easily embarrassed but he was good at finding her tender points.

"Miss Calamity, it seems you entirely misunderstand me." George said in a surprised voice. "I have no intention of embarrassing you or making you feel bad in any way." Okay, maybe there was a bit of salt. Maybe more than a bit. "Being a nun simply wasn't your vocation, and it was my duty as your spiritual counselor to point out your flaws. But I am absolutely delighted that you have found the right vocation for you." Did he believe she would be a good wife and mother? Hell no. He doubted this woman had any vocation at all. But at least in this one she wouldn't cause trouble for the church or embarrass him. "I wish you nothing but the best."

He was actually sounding reasonable and she didn't believe his sympathy. "You said awful things ta me, made me feel like God could never accept a woman like me. I could have been a good nun with patience and all." True, she did a lot of things while in the garb of a nun, but she had been trying. She hadn't gotten into a fight except to protect the church, that had to count. She was sure within a couple of years she might have been able to cut out men and the swearing. The drinking, she was sure, would have been the hardest.