Proper Secrets (16 page)

A timid knock on the door roused Emily and Genevieve from slumber the next day.

“Who is it?” called Emily, hastily donning her robe.

“Come to see if you’ll take breakfast in your room, Misses,” replied the maid.

“Yes, please.
 
We are not yet fit to be in company.
 
Do come in,” said Emily.
 
Quick and quiet, the graying woman entered and closed the door.

“I’ll be in charge of your room, Miss Worthing.
 
If you need anything, call on me.
 
My name is Katherine,” she said, dragging the trunks closer to the wardrobe and putting their dresses away.
 
“I hope you’ll forgive the servants, Miss.
 
We haven’t had any guests at Landhilton in over ten years.
 
They may be a bit unused to company manners.”

“Thank you, Katherine.
 
But, that does make me curious.
 
Ten years?” said Emily.
 
Katherine grimaced into the clothing.

“Aye.
 
Not since… Well, not since Miss Wingrave was young,” said Katherine.
 
Sensing the maid did not wish to spread gossip involving her master and mistress, Emily allowed the subject to change.
 
After they ate and dressed, Emily and Genevieve were shown to the parlor where Mary and Lady Wingrave silently did their needlework.

“Good late morning, Miss Worthing.
 
I hope you do not mind that we let you sleep in.
 
I myself am still sore and weary from traveling yesterday,” said Mary.

“No, no, I do not mind.
 
Is Lord Wingrave out today, my Lady?” said Emily.

“For the morning.
 
He shall return for dinner,” said Lady Wingrave.
 
Her ladyship gave the curious impression of being at once bashful like Jonah, and at ease with herself when no one addressed her specifically.
 
Genevieve peeked over Mary’s shoulder at her work, an embroidered scene of the night sky.

“Do you like it?
 
I think I shall hang it in my room at Reddester,” said Mary.

“Oh yes, the stars are very well done,” said Genevieve.
 
Lady Wingrave appraised her young guest.

“Have an eye for threadcraft, do you?” she inquired.

“I am basically educated in it, but Emily and Bridget have just begun teaching me more complicated stitches, my Lady,” said Genevieve.

“If you would like supplies for your own project, there are notions in the table, over by the fireplace.
 
This room has a small selection of books, and I can show you the library later, if you desire.
 
Don’t be afraid to practice your music.
 
That pianoforte is well-cared for,” said Mary.
 
Genevieve availed herself of the mentioned supplies while Emily gingerly ran a finger along the side of the piano.
 
Lady Wingrave watched both of them as if they’d grown devilish horns and could set fire to her manor at any time.

Emily sat on the bench, but did not lift her hands to play.
 
Her imagination went wild, conjuring Mr. Wingrave to sit beside her and duet as they had at Reddester Hall, when he had taken her hand as a lover would, and given her the only intimacy they could afford.
 
How had her feelings taken such a turn?
 
From the beginning, Mr. Wingrave had refused to take any answer of hers at its surface value, always digging deeper, asking questions that she dared not ask herself.
 
She gritted her teeth as her own traitorous mind admitted that she had grown from knowing him and pondering his questions.
 
To sit here and view the room where Mr. Wingrave must have played on countless occasions might have been her undoing if Emily did not know he loved her.
 
Yet another question came to her though, but not from him.
 
Miss Morley had once asked what feeling was for if it was all for naught.
 
Heading heart first into the consequences of that hypothetical question led Emily to extreme dissatisfaction.
 
Love had conquered her reservations, but none of his.
 
Never had Mr. Wingrave volunteered his personal history.

“Miss Worthing?
 
Do you need sheet music?” inquired Lady Wingrave.

“Oh no, I was lost in thought.
 
Forgive me, my Lady,” said Emily.
 
On command, she chose a piece in her repertoire that did not involve lyrics.
 
The ivory did not lend Emily any of the usual comfort, so stricken was she with loneliness and longing.

“Miss Worthing, you have a great musical talent,” said Lady Wingrave.
 

“Thank you, my Lady,” said Emily.

“Oh yes, Mama, you should have had the pleasure of hearing her play with…” Mary swallowed as the near mention of Mr. Wingrave caused upset for reasons unknown, “enthusiasm, at Reddester.”
 
The Worthing sisters shifted in discomfort as Lady Wingrave let the discussion fall quiet.
 
Emily rose and addressed her hostess.

“If I shall not be needed, might I walk about your property, my Lady?” she inquired.
 
Lady Wingrave blinked.

“You are the walking sort?”

“I am the nature sort, my Lady,” said Emily.

“Very well.
 
There are many delightful areas to view,” said Lady Wingrave.

“I would like to go with you, Emily,” said Genevieve.
 
Emily nodded her agreement and they set off.
 
Whether Mary did not join them because she was not disposed to walking or because her feelings were even less calm than could be guessed, Emily did not know.
 
When they were alone, Emily and Genevieve let out breaths they were not aware of holding.

“This house is ill, Emily,” whispered Genevieve.

“An interesting observation, my dear.
 
We knew the children kept close and secretive, but I did not imagine the parents this cautious.
 
I’ve never heard a house full of people so quiet,” said Emily.

“Em, do you think we ought not have come?”

“Since our arrival I have gotten the sense that we should not be here. I hate to think this way of the Wingrave birthplace, but the evidence grows daily against our forming a serious attachment to this family.”

Genevieve blurted out, in a fit of temper, “But I like Mary!”
 
As if Emily had said the most unfair thing in the world.

“Calm yourself, you know I would not have it this way,” Emily chided her, “But consider that what we know and cherish of the Wingraves are only pieces of the whole.
 
I would have greater knowledge before declaring my devotion.”

“Bridget said you are in love with Mr. Wingrave, is that not a declaration?”

“My you are in bad humor over this.
 
Mind you are speaking with your beloved sister.”

“I’m sorry, Emily.”

“I accept.
 
To answer your question, no, being in love guarantees no security.
 
I have affection for what I see of him, but…” Emily broke off with a lump in her throat, “Well, not all love stories have a happy end.”

“I think this one will,” said Genevieve.
 
Her certainty made Emily smile.

“Will it?”

“Yes.
 
I know very little of men, but I have never seen anyone look at you the way he does.
 
And he’s so handsome!”
 
They laughed.

“Sometimes the more handsome they are, the more troubles they bring,” warned Emily.

“Is that Jude Annesley’s fault?
 
Too handsome?” inquired Genevieve.
 
She frowned deeply thinking of his exit from the ball at Barham.

“Jude Annesley?
 
I had hoped never to hear of him again.
 
Yes, I suppose that may be one of his greatest faults, but I cannot help suspecting an error of upbringing, my pardon to Mr. Edward.”

“Adults are very complex in more than love.
 
I do not want to be one.”
 
With a petulant jut of her chin, Genevieve halted to look in her sister’s eyes.

“You cannot stop the flow of time nor the growth of your bones.
 
What you can do is keep your mind balanced with logic and feeling.”

“Like you said at Reddester?
 
About life’s blood and vessels?”

“Good heavens!
 
I am making headway with my two wonderful sisters.
 
You listen after all!” cried Emily.

Genevieve shook her head, “Of course, we listen.
 
It is simply more fun to tease you.”

“Oh you have followed in the tormentor Bridget’s footsteps.
 
All that hard work and snark wins out,” Emily lamented, “I will congratulate her when we get back to Charlton.”

Lord Wingrave did return for dinner and begged that Emily sit near him so they might converse.

“How have my children been behaving in Tripton?” he asked.

“Papa!” cried Mary, quite embarrassed.

“You will always be my child,” laughed Lord Wingrave, “Or am I to assume you don’t wish Miss Worthing to answer?”
 
Mary blushed.

“Their behavior has been quite amiable.
 
They are all well-liked amongst my acquaintances,” said Emily.

“As expected.
 
Hardly any trouble to get into in the country.
 
It’s the city you need worry about,” said Lady Wingrave.

“We would not get into trouble anywhere,” said Mary.

“No, not all of you,” muttered Lady Wingrave.
 
Lord Wingrave coughed and gave his wife a look of warning.
 
He had recognized the wit of his guests and that Emily looked to him with questions.

“Excuse my Lady, she thinks Dunbarrow to be full of smoke and scoundrels, prefers the country.
 
Tell me, Miss Worthing, of my sons.
 
Have they found any charming women to dance with?”
 
Lord Wingrave measured her glowing countenance, and Emily gathered that he was, at least in part, teasing her.

“Mr. Jonah has danced many times with Miss Victoria Barham, and visits her often,” she said to distract them.
 
The Lord and Lady did express surprise at Jonah’s having the courage to visit a woman, but Lord Wingrave did not let Emily slide past without the other half of the answer.

“And Elijah?
 
Who does he visit?”

“Papa, you cannot expect Miss Worthing to sit here and gossip all evening,” said Mary.

“It is fine, Miss Wingrave, I do not mind giving him news of his sons.
 
Capt. Wingrave has only danced with friends to my knowledge, and has no permanent designs on anyone, your Lordship,” said Emily.
 
She had said it to be vague, but the truth in the words struck her so roughly that Emily had to lean on the table.

“Miss Worthing?
 
If my questions bother you, we can speak of other topics,” said Lord Wingrave.
 
His brow creased in concern that he might have caused her affliction.

“A passing stomach pain.
 
Nothing more.
 
Please, tell me of your library,” said Emily.
 
The dinner guests relaxed as much as they could, now that the most difficult subject had been banned by mutual agreement.

“Olive, who has come with Mary?” said Miss Jones to Miss Morley.
 
She gestured with her eyes.
 
The Wingraves had just arrived at a neighbor’s party.

“That is Miss Emily Worthing.
 
Unpleasant girl,” said Miss Morley.

“I should have guessed.
 
She is so beautiful, she must have gotten Elijah’s attention,” said Miss Jones.
 
Miss Morley leveled an ominous stare at her.

“How do you know that?”

“The servants are all abuzz with it, Olive.
 
It’s all the Landhilton crowd has had to speak of in years.
 
I do not see her as unpleasant though, are you certain?
 
Surely, Elijah would choose more wisely.”

“One would think,” Miss Morley muttered before smiling, “Good day, my Lady.
 
How have you been?”

“Very well, thank you, Miss Morley.
 
Miss Worthing, this is my niece, Miss Jones.
 
Jill, Miss Worthing and her sister have blessed us with a short visit,” said the Lady.
 
To Emily the only blessed part of this excursion was that it would be so brief.
 
In the week since their coming to Landhilton, she and Genevieve had taken turns being out of sorts and frustrated.
 
Emily because every nook of the county held a story of Elijah Wingrave and hearing of him instead of seeing him tore at her heart.
 
Genevieve, because the air and questions that filled Landhilton to the brim stifled her joyous spirit.
 
Not only questions of the true nature of their host family, but the constant quizzing from Lady Wingrave.
 
The Lord of Landhilton seemed content to know their names, but the Lady sought out every flaw in the Worthings’ education and upbringing, of which there were few.
 
Discontented with this conclusion, Lady Wingrave had settled on the siblings being allowed too much freedom and independence.
 
The inquisitor had also discovered that all of the Worthing children were expected to be aware of the chores the servants routinely did by experiencing them firsthand.