Proper Secrets (10 page)

“Genevieve is as clever as any lad, there is no reason why she should not challenge her logic.
 
Emily and Bridget were forced to oblige me until they grew old enough to win,” laughed Peter.

“Your family seems a model of support.
 
All your siblings have turned out very well,” said Mary.

“Only my siblings?” asked Peter.
 
Mary blushed and chided him for for provoking her.

The friends picked a shady place to set up lunch, near patches of flowers and berries.
 
Mr. Wingrave put Mrs. Worthing’s chair at great advantage with a view of everyone. Genevieve begged Mary and Peter to join her in picking berries.
 
Emily went off by herself with the excuse of checking the height of their stream, which fed directly off the river.

“Miss Worthing, let me join you.
 
I’ve a great curiosity about the grounds here,” said Mr. Sheridan.
 
Emily allowed it, unable to reject a walking partner, but she did not volunteer conversation.

“I’ve heard from some people that you will not marry, Miss Worthing,” said Mr. Sheridan.

“I am not inclined to do so, no,” said Emily.
 
He approached it as if it were merely an interesting fact about her rather than a philosophical statement, a thing which intrigued and repulsed her.

“That’s just like Wingrave,” he remarked.

“How is that like Mr. Wingrave?” said Emily.

“Oh, he has refused to become attached thus far, despite the wishes of his mother.
 
Of course, she would see him with Miss Morley, which I do not believe he fancies.”

“I think you are right, sir,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Sheridan beamed under her affirmation, taking it as a compliment to himself.
 
They strolled through a swath cut through the thin woods just before the stream.

“You are a fine lady though, Miss Worthing.
 
I would hate to see you unmarried forever.”
 
Emily chuckled without humor, seeing no other appropriate response.
 
“What about children?
 
Do you not desire them?”

The striking turn of the discussion caught her off guard such that she answered more openly than she would have intended, “I do desire children, but I do not want my ability to have them to be my only asset.”

“You do?
 
Marvelous,” he said, “I have always wanted children. I would not even mind if an heir was produced, I want them so.”
 
It was clear he thought this would placate her tendency toward equality.

“So much the better for your wife, since she cannot determine the gender of her offspring until they are born,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Sheridan had such a curious propensity to ignore whatever was said that did not fit with his thinking that Emily could not help but think he had gotten this far in society only by relation.
 
They arrived at the stream, and Emily did her best to give off an aura of contemplation so Mr. Sheridan would not feel the need to talk.
 
It was broken shortly by footsteps coming near.
 
Mr. Wingrave and Miss Morley came down the path toward the stream.
 
The pairs greeted each other.

“Ahoy Wingrave!” said Mr. Sheridan.

“Hello cousin, have you found the stream high or low?” asked Mr. Wingrave.

“I would call it high myself, you Miss Worthing?”

“It is just right after the storms we had a few weeks past.
 
Everything flooded then,” said Emily.

“Does it matter much that a stream is high or low?” said Miss Morley, quite vexed that her walk with Mr. Wingrave had turned into a meeting.

“Why yes, it does.
 
This stream goes directly past the fields that Charlton estate oversees.
 
No water, no crops,” said Emily as Mr. Wingrave opened his mouth to explain.

“Perhaps it matters then, to the man of the estate, but why is the daughter so concerned?
 
Do you not trust your father to monitor the water?” said Miss Morley.

“Of course I trust him, but I would also keep an eye on that which feeds my family.”

“I am tired, Mr. Wingrave.
 
I wish to go back,” said Miss Morley.

“I agree, it is tiresome to walk all this way.
 
I thought we were having a restful picnic?” laughed Mr. Sheridan.

“In that case, why don’t you two walk back, and Miss Worthing and I will observe the stream?” said Mr. Wingrave.
 
Miss Morley opened her mouth to object, but Mr. Sheridan happily stuck out his arm, which she then had to take or risk being rude.
 
When they had gone, Mr. Wingrave smiled at Emily.

“I am confused, Miss Worthing.
 
Earlier, did you want me to break my promise?
 
About being truthful?” he said.

“No, but perhaps you should consider that your opinions are not always the truth,” said Emily.
 
Looking at him was awful, so she meandered along the bank, watching the fishes.

“Let me amend my promise then, to give you the true facts and my true opinions.”

“Do you really think of me that way?
 
That I cannot be pleased?” asked Emily.

“No, you took me too seriously.
 
I do think it difficult to please you.”
 
She frowned.
 

“Mr. Sheridan has told me another secret, Mr. Wingrave, and I wonder that you’ve failed to mention it,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Wingrave took a deep breath.

“Yes?”

“He said that you also refuse to marry.”
 
He let the breath out.

“It may appear that way to some,” he said.

“Hmm,” she said, letting it hang in the air to tease him.

“I missed speaking with you the last few days.
 
I had no one to debate philosophy with me,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“Things must have been busy at Reddester for you to miss opportunities to spar over ideas,” said Emily.

“Quite,” he said and left it at that.

“We should get back, before more rumors about us start,” said Emily.

“You would not want Mr. Sheridan to think you prefer my company,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“That is not one of my concerns, sir,” said Emily.

“Then what is?
 
We are in front of no one but family,” he said.

“I would have my family think well of me before any acquaintance.”

“Your family will not think ill of you for walking with me.”
 
Emily laughed.

“How do you know, Mr. Wingrave?
 
They might be wondering right now if you are proposing to me.
 
We can’t have that,” she said.
 
Emily strolled away without him until he insisted on escorting her.

“You are an unpredictable creature, Miss Worthing.
 
Most females would be happy for anyone to think they warranted an offer of marriage, but you are horrified,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“My value is based on the quality of my person, not the quantity of men I can induce to propose.”

“Is there a quantity?”

“That would be a horrid thing to boast of,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Wingrave chuckled.
 
The others had all gathered on a blanket surrounding Mrs. Worthing and awaited their return so that the picnic could begin.

“Emily, our plan to visit Dunbarrow is essential now, after hearing Mr. Annesley speak of it with so much affection,” said Bridget.

“I agree.
 
You should all visit by year’s end,” said Mr. Annesley.

“Genevieve and I shall have to wait until winter, for I will be better, and she will be older,” said Mrs. Worthing.

“That is a fantastic idea, ma’am,” said Mary.

“But the two eldest would enjoy it, would you not?” said Mr. Annesley.

“Indeed.
 
It is my chief objective to see more of the world,” said Emily with a sly glance at Mr. Wingrave.

“I would be thrilled to see the sights you’ve enumerated, Mr. Annesley,” said Bridget.

“Perhaps I can persuade your father to take a winter house there,” said Mrs. Worthing.
 
They shared stories of town throughout their lunch--balls, masquerades, chapels, libraries larger than the Worthings’.

“There is another party in Tripton in less than a fortnight, shall you attend?” Mrs. Worthing asked Mary.
 
She looked to her brother for assistance.

“Unfortunately, I cannot promise our presence there.
 
Mary and Miss Morley are taking a short jaunt about the neighboring countryside and I have been beset with business, getting Reddester back up to function,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“We will mourn your absence,” said Peter, speaking chiefly to Mary.

“No worries!
 
Jonah and I shall attend,” said Mr. Sheridan.
 
An awkward moment followed in which the sounds of chewing were all that was heard.

“You were lying, Mr. Wingrave,” Emily muttered as the group picked up their lunch things.

“I was.
 
I did not promise transparency to everyone,” he said.

“You cannot think I wouldn’t recognize falsehoods when I’ve been fed so much of the truth.”

“No, but while you may know I excused myself falsely, I cannot explain any further.”
 
Emily said nothing in return, reaching the limit of her frustration with him for one day.
 
The Wingrave party left shortly thereafter.

“Mr. Annesley is the best sort of man,” Bridget sighed.

“I agree.
 
His motivations have proven pure so far.
 
What say you Emily?” said Mrs. Worthing.

“With the exception of his original design in coming here, I can find no fault.
 
And he appears to appreciate Bridget’s cackling like a mad hen.”
 
Emily flopped onto the sofa, dropping any ladylike pretense.

“He is kind and generous.
 
Did you know he promised Genevieve a music box for her birthday?” said Bridget.

“It is a fair approach, flattering a lady’s beloved sibling to gain favor,” said Peter, “Perhaps I should buy Mr. Wingrave a dolly.”
 
The women could not resist the image and broke into giggles.

“Oh, Peter that would be a sight!” laughed Emily.

“No, no, it just might work if I can have it fashioned after Emily’s likeness.”

“You heartless boy!” she shouted at him through tears of mirth.

“What diversion is my family about?” said Mr. Worthing as he stepped into the room.

“Your son is scoundrel, sir!
 
I demand you lash him in my honor,” said Emily.
 
She wiped her cheeks of wetness.

“A scoundrel, eh?
 
Takes after his father, isn’t that right Elizabeth?”
 
Mrs. Worthing blushed heartily, and waved her hand at him.

“You are both foolish tricksters, ever seeking the next joke you might play on someone,” she said.

“My own wife would cut my legs at the knees.
 
It cannot be helped, I suppose. I am glad to have you, Mrs. Worthing,” said Mr. Worthing.

The Wingraves’ absence was a great detriment to the Worthings at the dance in Tripton.
 
Mr. Annesley was also not to be found.
 
Ready to call her family and leave,
 
for they were just as uninspired, Emily heard a hush fall over the room as Mr. Jude Annesley made a grand appearance, holding himself very high.
 
It was like a shot at the beginning of a sport; his entrance sparked the social games and the contenders quickly jockeyed for advantage.
 
When he had been introduced to everyone’s daughter and invited to the Ball at Barham Park in two month’s time, Mr. Jude Annesley could finally move about unhindered.
 
Emily observed him taking her in, the light of recognition glowing in his eyes.

“My fair lady, my director, will you at last tell me your name?” he inquired, stopping in front of her and Anne.
 
Emily could have spit at him if it weren’t lowly and terrible, for she had seen, from across the room, Victoria Barham slight Jonah Wingrave to pay heed to Mr. Jude’s progress.
 
She and Anne had had a fit of misery over Jonah’s anguish.

“Miss Worthing, and this is Miss Barham,” replied Emily.

“Delightful.
 
Miss Worthing, may I have a dance?”

“I… Yes, Mr. Jude, you may.”

“I’ll see you when next the music starts,” he said.

“My word, he has charisma in spades,” said Anne.

“Were charisma all that makes up a man, he would be set,” agreed Emily.

“You are not pleased with him?”

“He has the air of one used to having the attention of everyone in the room.
 
I am pleased by those who are satisfied with just mine.”

“Like Mr. Wingrave?” countered Anne.

“Did I not forbid you from speculation?”

“Come Emily, I have seen you together.
 
I would not have you break our pact for anything less than the other half of your very soul.
 
I am not insensible.”

“Anne…
 
It is all so confusing,” said Emily.
 

“You are not a vain nor vapid creature.
 
I trust you to judge his sincerity and weigh it against your instincts,” said Anne.
 
The musicians took their seats again, and Mr. Jude came for Emily’s hand.

“I think you may be the loveliest woman in Tripton tonight,” he said as the song covered his words from eavesdropping.

“Thank you, sir.
 
I wonder who it shall be tomorrow?” said Emily.
 
Jude recovered from the comment with bravado.