Proper Secrets (28 page)

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Authors: Rachel Francis

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“Still angry with him, are you?” said Peter when the man had gone.
 
She’d said nothing of what happened the day she visited Fort Jennings.

With a skeptical brow raised, Emily said, “Should I not be?”

“He saved my life, you know.
 
Batteran Phelps does not usually permit negotiating for prisoners, and did so because Capt. Wingrave expressly wished it.”

“He has my thanks for that.”

“I don’t think we have the whole story, Emily.
 
From what I know of him since coming here, Capt. Wingrave is the most honorable of men,” said Peter.
 
Emily balked in betrayal.

“No, we don’t have the full story.
 
That in itself taints his honor,” she replied, “When will they release you for home?”
 
Peter shook his head and stood.
 
His pant leg had been hitched above his cast, but otherwise he was fully dressed in uniform.

“I’m not going home yet,” he said.

“You can’t go into battle like that,” said Emily.

“No, and I’ve been given permission to break my contract, but I’ll be staying here through the winter.
 
Capt. Wingrave has offered me a position as his second now that Swofr. Barnes has promoted to Lineleader.
 
I will be home in the spring.”
 
Peter picked up a cane from the bedside table.
 
Affronted by his answer, Emily whirled and began walking out.

“Emily, wait, where are you going?”

“This visit has been most unsatisfactory with the exception of seeing you well.
 
I must travel home and tell our parents that after mourning your death, they must wait to see you so that you may be at the convenience of Capt. Wingrave.
 
Between your two kinds of stupidity, I hope you fall very much in love,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

“Emily?” called Bridget as her sister stormed out the front where she’d been conversing with one of the nurses.

“I will wait for you in the carriage.
 
Peter is out of bed,” said Emily, not bothering to turn.

9.
 
Friends of Dunbarrow

Emily met with Peter once more that night to bid him a short farewell.
 
Bridget did not think very much of his decision to stay at Fort Jennings either, but forgave him more readily.

“What if he dies?” said Bridget during their carriage ride home.

“Flaws and poor judgement are not erased by death.
 
Passing on does not make one saintly, contrary to the glorification that always goes on at funerals.
 
If Peter dies, he will die knowing that I love him and by his own choice in staying here when he needs a cane to walk,” said Emily.

“It has nothing to do with his choosing to be Capt. Wingrave’s second?” said Bridget.

“That is merely salt in the wound,” replied Emily.
 
She scowled at the mention of Elijah Wingrave.
 
He and Mary had behaved in a way that deserved ridicule, inviting and encouraging affection where they knew there could be no attachments.
 
Shame did deal Emily a few blows upon examination of her behavior.
 
She had been dismissive of Capt. Wingrave’s feelings, as she was accused.
 
Living with the doubt of his affection had made it effortless to suppose it was fantasy all along, but if Capt. Wingrave expected her to behave rationally after a false proposal like that, he may have overestimated her composure.
 
She only hoped that after Peter decided to return home, Capt. Wingrave would never be mentioned again.

After the busy days of the harvest, a sort of peace came back to the Worthings, though Emily discovered that enforced peace was not at all calming.
 
When Anne and Victoria left Tripton to visit Landhilton with Jonah Wingrave, Emily felt the loss of company, but also that Reddester Hall was completely empty as Mary had left shortly after news of Peter’s capture.
 
Anne wrote to Emily and expressed the same dulling of spirits that came with the Wingrave family, and hope that it would be over soon because Mr. Welles waited for her.

Emily took to her old habits; reading in the drawing room, teaching Genevieve music, spending her pocket money at the bookseller.
 
She began to feel much more like her old self, though now with an undertone of jaded bitterness.
 
Her ability to trust had been damaged, and time did not mend it with much success.
 
Capt. Wingrave had been like the sunshine on a closed bloom, coaxing it open only to sink behind the clouds and leave it in darkness.
 
Cold and vulnerable, Emily closed her feelings away much tighter than before, vowing that no promise of sunshine would tempt her.

Even Bridget could not cheer up the house, having been separated from Mr. Annesley for several weeks.
 
She had been certain he would return to Tripton before the Worthings took a house in Dunbarrow that winter, for that was months away, but he did not.
 
None of them, it seemed, could persevere past the enormous fear that had been struck into their hearts.
 
Even knowing Peter was alive, the whole family now comprehended what it would be like to mourn one of their members.
 
The specter of grief hung over the parents, and the sisters.

At last, Lord Worthing was pried from his farms, and duties that amounted to little more than fussing during the cold weather, and they made haste to Dunbarrow, for Bridget’s sake.
 
The Worthings took a manor by the name of Daylily House.
 
It was not so grand as the permanent home of the Annesleys, but for a winter home, its significance shone.
 
Mrs. Annesley called on them immediately, both wanting to gain advantage over other socialites, and to satisfy her curiosity.

“Miss Worthing, Miss Bridget!
 
So good to see you again,” she greeted them in the drawing room.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Annesley, we are honored by your visit,” said Emily.

“Excuse Edward for not joining me today, he’s been away for several weeks now but I expect him back any day now,” said Mrs. Annesley.

“We should be glad to see him,” said Bridget.
 
Emily tried to assess how her sister felt and still pay their guest every attention.

“Ma’am, this is my father, and mother, Lord and Lady Worthing.
 
And my youngest sister, Miss Genevieve,” said Emily.

“My, what a pretty young lady!
 
Taking after your sisters?” chuckled Mrs. Annesley.
 
Genevieve could only blush and giggle in response.
 
“Well, you are all just in time for my ball.
 
It is but twelve days away, I feared you would miss it if you delayed any longer.”

“My apologies, it took more effort than usual to close up business this autumn,” said Lord Worthing.

“He means it took more effort to get him away from business when there is nothing to do,” said Lady Worthing.

“Quite right!
 
I understand the Worthings to be a productive family, and it seems they come by it honestly,” said Mrs. Annesley.
 
Their guest did not stay too long, so immersed was Mrs. Annesley in the details of her ball that everything needed her attention.
 
Bridget brightened after hearing that Mr. Annesley had not only been busy, but would return to Dunbarrow soon.
 
And return he did, though not without some confusion on Bridget’s part.

“He has not yet visited, though the ball is tomorrow, and he has been here five days,” she mumbled to Emily that night.

“Perhaps Mrs. Annesley has taken him over for ball preparations?”
 
Emily thought it rather suspect herself, but that was not to be talked of.
 
Bridget needed support or she would enter the ball looking wretched.

“What could a man have to say about it?
 
They have enough servants, and he cares so little for those particulars.
 
At least that is what he told me,” said Bridget.

“Let us hear what he has to say for himself before we put words in his mouth or motivations in his mind,” said Emily.

Gazing up at Amberose again had an odd nostalgic quality, though Emily had never seen it in its full splendor.
 
In the dark, lit by the warm orange glow of tinted lanterns in the windows, Amberose was the stuff of fairytales.
 
Genevieve had been most unhappy to stay with Ms. Pierce at Daylily, but Lady Worthing would not be budged on the matter.
 
She insisted that Genevieve was yet too young, and would brook no arguments.

“You’ll have to paint Genevieve a picture of this,” said Emily to Bridget.

“Aye.
 
For all of us to remember,” said Bridget.
 
Emily kept a firm hand on her sister’s arm as they were ushered inside, comforting her as Mr. Annesley came within sight.
 
He and Mrs. Annesley stood on a circular dais at one side of the ball room, to differentiate the host and hostess.

“I cannot go over,” said Bridget.

“What?
 
Why?” inquired Emily.

“Something has changed, I can see it, in his face.
 
He did not come to Tripton, he did not come to visit on purpose.
 
He was sending me a signal,” said Bridget.

“That is ridiculous!” was all Emily could say.

“No, it’s right there, in his expression.
 
An unhappy hardness that is not my Edward,” said Bridget.
 
She looked down in pain as Emily took stock of Mr. Annesley.
 
To her, he appeared bored, and, truthfully, exactly as Bridget had said.
 
He caught sight of them, lingering near the entryway, and his eyes widened.
 
He collapsed his surprise into forced boredom and looked away.

“That is inexplicably odd.
 
What would change him so?” said Emily, more to herself.

Bridget shook her head, “I do not know, but I am not wanted here.
 
Excuse me while I attend Mama.”
 
Dissatisfied with this turn of events, Emily wove in and out of the guests, on her way to the dais under the guise of greeting Mrs. Annesley.

“You look lovely, dear sister,” said an all-too-familiar voice from behind her.

“Peter?” she said, whirling.
 
There he stood in a freshly-pressed uniform, with no cane to aid him.

“Have I been forgiven yet?”

“Why are you here?” she said, embracing him with enthusiasm.

“As Capt. Wingrave’s second, I go where he goes, so here I am,” said Peter.

“Do you say that simply to upset me?” said Emily.

“Do not be cross.
 
I could not be here without him.
 
As a lowly Swordtenant I hardly rate leave.
 
Besides, he was invited, being one of Mr. Annesley’s oldest friends.
 
You’re lucky we could not arrive before this afternoon or we may have visited,” said Peter.

“He is really here?” inquired Emily.
 
At once, she felt ill.

“Yes, Emily, haven’t I already said so?
 
He’s over there, speaking with Mrs. Annesley now,” said Peter.
 
Emily breathed out as she realized she almost walked straight up to him.
 
He was, in fact, next to Mrs. Annesley, slightly hidden by a plant overhanging the marble railing.

“Oh, I think this might be enough to convince Bridget to go home early with me,” muttered Emily.

“Miss Emily!
 
How wonderful it is to see you!”
 
Mr. Corey strode up to her with all familiarity still intact and kissed her hand.
 
“I was about to visit your family in Tripton before I heard you would all be coming here for the winter.”

“Hello, Mr. Corey.
 
Peter, this is Mr. Corey, we met during our last visit to Dunbarrow.
 
Mr. Corey, my brother, Swtnt. Worthing,” said Emily.
 
Suspicion soured Peter’s bliss upon seeing Mr. Corey’s manner toward Emily.

“Charmed,” said Peter.
 
Capt. Wingrave had moved toward Peter after greeting the Annesleys, until he saw Emily, and then decided to keep walking on past them.
 
Peter reached out as he passed and tapped his shoulder, enough to stop his progression.

“Worthing, are you in need of something?” inquired Elijah with a raised brow.

“I thought you would like to compliment my sister on the stunning arrangement of her… hair,” said Peter.
 
Capt. Wingrave took stock of the small circle and, while confused, nodded.

“Yes, it’s a fine artistry you managed with your curls,” said Capt. Wingrave.

“Thank you, sir,” said Emily.
 
He gave Peter a hard look.

“I’ve just met Mr. Corey, who happens to know Emily well since last summer.
 
Are you acquainted?” said Peter.
 
Mr. Corey smiled easily at Capt. Wingrave.

“No, I’ve not had the pleasure,” said Capt. Wingrave.

“Oh, well then, Mr. Corey, this is Capt. Wingrave, a particular friend of ours from Tripton,” said Peter, “He and Emily play the best duets.”

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