Proper Secrets (3 page)

“Well sisters, are you prepared for the ball?” said Peter as the three of them stopped on the downstairs landing to part ways.

“I was prepared.
 
Now I wonder if my brother and sister will embarrass me by spreading false rumors,” said Emily.

“You worry about us more than is required.
 
As soon as you stand up with him the rumors will spread without our help,” said Peter.

“Do not underestimate the importance of origin.
 
If they start here then it can be supposed our family was seriously talking of a romantic attachment between Mr. Wingrave and myself.
 
If they start in public because of one dance, then the rumors are easily shrugged off as fantasy.”

“Must they be shrugged off?
 
What if Mr. Wingrave finds your prickly disposition towards strangers appealing?” Bridget said.
 
Emily gave a cross sigh.

“Then he will be extremely disappointed,” she said.

“All right, Emily.
 
I shall trouble you no further,” laughed Bridget.

Emily shook her head and walked toward the library, away from the good humor of Peter and Bridget.
 
As devourers of learning, the library held the consequences of the Worthings dedication.
 
Shelf after shelf of books overwhelmed Emily when they normally calmed or intrigued her.
 
A chair sat close, so she made use of it to steady her nerves.
 
Admitting that it was not the books, but her own thoughts that unsettled the quiet of her mind gave no relief.
 
Bridget could not have known that her teasing would affect Emily so greatly.

Emily plotted to wait out the storm of gossip that would inevitably follow the ball.
 
Mr. Wingrave deserved her courtesy despite being the fuel for several kinds of speculation.
 
With her course set, Emily picked an old favorite and a new volume for her mother’s pleasure and delivered them post haste.

“Mr. Wingrave!
 
Good to see you again,” said Mr. Worthing.
 
People lined up to the doors of Charlton, greeting their host and admiring the grand party arranged for their amusement.

“Mr. Worthing, you met my sister, Miss Mary Wingrave.
 
Let me introduce you to my brother, Mr. Jonah Wingrave, my cousin, Mr. Sheridan, and a friend of Mary’s Miss Olive Morley.”

“You are all a welcome addition to Charlton tonight!
 
Mrs. Worthing has a small sitting room to the right if you would not mind calling on her sometime this evening, she is quite excited to meet you.
 
Illness will keep her from joining us in the ball room, I’m afraid,” said Mr. Worthing.
 
Mr. Wingrave took his leave, moving on to greet Peter, Emily, and Bridget.
 
He introduced them also to his party of friends and relations.

“Do you not have a younger sister?” inquired Mary Wingrave.

“Yes we do, Miss Wingrave.
 
Genevieve is having a fine time, entertaining our mother in the sitting room.
 
May I escort you there?” said Peter.

“Yes please, I have already heard reports of her talent, if you do not mind,” said Mary.
 
The two departed the greeting line, leaving Emily to be reminded of her obligation.

“Miss Worthing, you have not forgotten our engagement I trust?” said Mr. Wingrave.

“No, sir.
 
The first dance is reserved.”

“This is the lady you afflicted?
 
What good aim you have cousin!” said Mr. Sheridan.

“Twas not my aim. I would not wish the cold misery she endured on a lady just so that I may become acquainted with her.”

“Then I praise the good aim of the carriage wheel for a chance to meet such a lovely creature.”
 
Mr. Sheridan clasped her hand with vigor.

“Thank you, Mr. Sheridan, for putting my beauty above any inconvenience,” said Emily.
 
Her tone was lost on the intended receiver, but brought color to Mr. Wingrave.

“You are very welcome!” said Mr. Sheridan.

“Let us find the refreshments, Sheridan, and allow these ladies to welcome the rest of their guests,” said Mr. Wingrave.
 
He and his party moved on as Bridget hid a chuckle at the awkward meeting.

“What an admirer Mr. Sheridan is.
 
At least Mr. Wingrave’s brother appeared pleasant, though shy in his youth,” she said.

“I am surprised you recognize bashfulness, Bridget, being so unfamiliar to it yourself,” said Emily, laughing at her sister’s witless surprise.
 
“You see, Mama was right.
 
A loud rooster makes a large target.”

“Loud rooster, indeed.
 
If you did not have someone around you to pull out a laugh now and then, you would die of gravity,” Bridget replied.
 
When the rush of incoming party-goers subsided, Emily and Bridget visited their mother’s room.
 
Genevieve played softly for a small crowd.
 
Peter and Mary stood to one side, conversing, yet Mary would not look directly at him, instead focusing on Genevieve’s music.
 
Emily chanced to stand where she could hear.

“She is lovely,” said Mary.
 
Peter reassessed petite Genevieve, noting with some astonishment that she would be a woman soon.

“It is good then that she has an older brother to chase away young men.
 
I’ve had great success on that front with Emily and Bridget,” he jested.
 
Mary nodded as if it were the most natural thing for him to do.

“What lucky girls that you were born first,” said Mary.
 
Mrs. Worthing congratulated Genevieve as she completed the piece.

“You are an angel, darling, but you need not stay in here all evening.
 
Go find your friends and enjoy the ball,” said Mrs. Worthing.
 
Genevieve gave her a kiss and disappeared into the crowd.
 
With no one at the piano Mary answered Peter with more animation.
 
Emily smiled at her brother’s playful manner, putting Miss Wingrave at ease.

“How are you, Mama?” she asked Mrs. Worthing, slipping away to stand by her seat.

“Delighted.
 
I have missed seeing everyone and having chats in a lively atmosphere.
 
Everyone who visits me in bed comes under the weight of my sickness.
 
Here, spirits are lifted, including mine,” said Mrs. Worthing.
 
Emily did see the notable happiness in her mother’s countenance, but also the weariness.
 
The dancing had not yet started and already Mrs. Worthing tired of the excitement.
 
It was an improvement over staying in her room, as she did during their last party, so Emily took it as a sign of increased health.

Mr. Wingrave approached Mrs. Worthing.

“Mama, allow me to introduce Mr. Wingrave, our new neighbor at Reddester,” said Emily.

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, madame,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“The pleasure is all mine after hearing so much about you,” said Mrs. Worthing.
 
Emily dared not look at him smiling for fear of reddening.

“I’m sorry that it was not all good, and further apologize for Miss Worthing’s dress,” he said.

“Who said it was not all good?” laughed Mrs. Worthing, “I think it marvelous that fate brought our families together, even if Emily was made uncomfortable for a short time.”
 
Emily frowned in betrayal, but had no time to defend her right to bodily peace before Mrs. Barham ambushed them.

“Elizabeth, are you keeping Mr. Wingrave hidden away back here?” she said.

“On my honor, I am not.
 
We’ve just been introduced,” said Mrs. Worthing.

“How do you do, Mrs. Barham?” asked Mr. Wingrave.

“Much better now that I see your party here.
 
I am hoping to learn more of you, neighbor, and introduce you to my daughter Anne.”
 
Unlike many ladies of station, Mrs. Barham did not flutter about.
 
She reminded Emily of an arrow, always bent to a single-minded purpose.

“I would be delighted to meet her, but first I hear the musicians warming their instruments.
 
Miss Worthing?” said Mr. Wingrave.
 
He smiled upon taking Emily’s hand, and led her into the ballroom, leaving a disgruntled Mrs. Barham to plot her next ambush.

To distract herself from the man at her right, Emily took in the room as a whole.
 
The guests and trappings made up an all-too-familiar scene, and yet the undefinable quality that accompanied a ball lit a spark of impulsivity in the hearts of everyone present.
 
Mrs. Worthing, though unable to spend any time in the larger ballroom, still had a presence in her tastes--soft and elegant, as if the whole manor were an expertly-made gown.

“You are radiant tonight, Miss Worthing,” he said.
 
Emily blushed.

“Better than yesterday, I hope.”
 
A cheery tune sounded from the fiddle and the other instruments joined in a light number meant to warm up the dancers.
 
Mr. Wingrave thought about her response.

“Yesterday was the everyday Miss Worthing.
 
Today is a Miss Worthing accentuated by finery.
 
Both have their charms.”

“I am not bathed in mud every day, Mr. Wingrave,” said Emily, resenting the implication.

“No, but if one cannot see past the occasional bout of bad luck then they are doomed to miss out on an impeccable dance partner here and there,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“You flatter me, sir, but I must inform you that amends are made.
 
I already forgave you for your accidental transgression.”

“Do you suppose I compliment you falsely?”
 
A turn of the dance interrupted their conversation and sent them in different directions.
 
Emily did not mind her alternate partner, earning her a scowl or two as she thought of an answer.
 
When the two rejoined company, no conclusion had been reached as to the propriety of giving him an affirmative.

“I cannot merit all the compliments you have given me, and knowing well how I appear to strangers, you would be quite gallant to continue your attentions,” said Emily.
 
Surprised by her deprecating self-assessment, Mr. Wingrave fell silent.
 
The dance came to an end and Emily feared he had taken offense.
 
He did not leave her side though, instead taking her on his arm and strolling toward the drinks.

“Do you make many friends this way, Miss Worthing?” he inquired.

“Only the ones I think are worth keeping.
 
I honestly present myself; no one is surprised that way, either the acquaintance by my frankness, or myself when those who would hide in subterfuge dismiss my company.”

“That is quite a principle to stand on.
 
I guarantee you that I shall speak just as honestly.
 
My previous compliments pass this test, so I offer them to you again, free of any perceived obligation on my part.”
 
Intrigue forged an infuriatingly endearing smile on his lips.

“Then I thank you for them,” said Emily when no other argument could be grasped.
 
Mr. Wingrave took leave to speak with his brother.
 
She had never felt so alone in her home.
 
Surrounded by people, Emily poured a cup of wine with her shaky hand.

“Careful with that, Emily.
 
Two days of clothing disaster would be unsupportable,” said a woman near her ear.
 
Emily turned to see Anne Barham of the neighboring Barham Park.

“Dear Anne,” said Emily, grinning.

“How are you today, Miss Worthing?” said Anne.

“Out of sorts, I’m afraid.
 
Bridget and Peter think themselves jesters since yesterday.”

“I see you had a dance with Mr. Wingrave, the mysterious gentleman.
 
Mama has been ferreting out whatever information she can.
 
Apparently he’s rich, though no one knows how rich.”

“That is all we know, hm?
 
Perhaps it is for the best.
 
I see several ladies already setting their cap at him,” said Emily.

“None of them have had the pleasure of a dance.”
 
Anne gave Emily a weighted look.

“Do not be ridiculous.
 
As my closest friend, I forbid you from speculation.”

“Ah, here he comes now.
 
Couldn’t stay away long, could he?”
 
Mr. Wingrave did approach, followed by his sister and her friend.

“Miss Worthing, my sister Mary was just asking where Genevieve learned to play so beautifully,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“Genevieve’s education is handled by our governess, Ms. Pierce, though I also give her music lessons,” Emily replied.

“She is a well-behaved young woman?” Mary inquired.

“Oh yes, of a very sweet temper.
 
We all look after her, since she is the youngest.
 
Bridget teaches her to paint, Peter demands she play chess and I sing with her.
 
And we all press her to read,” said Emily.

“A full schedule for one entering womanhood.
 
She’ll have no trouble finding a husband with a list of accomplishments like that,” said Miss Morley.