Proper Secrets (8 page)

“I see that feminine wiles have not eluded even you, Miss Worthing.
 
You would keep your suitor in just as much agony as the next woman, and with even less guarantee of success.”
 
Their walk slowed as they found a corner to stand in.
 
The party went on around them, their body language throwing a shroud of privacy over the space they occupied.

“If anyone agonized over me I should be extremely surprised, considering my well-known views,” said Emily.

“Love cares not for the decree of mortals.”
 
Feeling again the weight of his words, Emily cast about for another subject.
 
Already they leaned too close to one another.

“Maybe if I could find a husband like Mr. Barham,” she suggested.
 
He had not left Mrs. Barham’s side all evening.

“Mayhaps you marry a hound instead, they come trained already,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“You do not believe in obedience to one’s wife?”

“Obedience yes, but not at the sacrifice of dignity.
 
Mr. Barham does himself and his business harm by acting in such a way as to disrespect himself to please his wife,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“You would displease your wife to further your image?” inquired Emily.

“I would hope that my wife would not ask me to belittle myself for her.
 
I, however, have not sworn off marriage in the hopes that there will be one woman with the qualities I seek, instead of despairing that the majority of the feminine gender does not meet my requirements.”
 
His eyebrow arched in her direction.

“How impertinent of you to argue with me so!” laughed Emily.
 
She and Mr. Wingrave found many more things to argue over before the night was through, every so often remembering that it was impolite to monopolize each other’s attention.
 
By the time Emily laid down on her pillow, she found herself thinking of Mr. Wingrave in different terms, as one who might belong to her if his secrets were not so obvious, and cumbersome to rationalize.

“He is amazing, Mama, so orderly and graceful,” said Bridget.

“So I’ve heard.
 
I have also heard from your sister that you spent most of the party talking and dancing with him,” said Mrs. Worthing.

“I don’t know how Emily came upon that knowledge.
 
She herself was nearly wrapped in Mr. Wingrave’s arms.
 
Did you know I had people ask me if they are engaged?” said Bridget.
 
Emily gasped.

“Who asked that?” said Mrs. Worthing.

“Anyone with a daughter in fifty miles,” said Bridget, more smug than accusing.

“What did you tell them?” asked Emily.

“Don’t be upset with your sister, love.
 
Is your behavior not cautious enough?” said Mrs. Worthing.

“I thought, but I didn’t know…
 
We were only talking,” said Emily.

“I told them that you were not, but did my best to hint at a solid friendship,” said Bridget.
 
Emily nodded her thanks, too ashamed of her impetuous fascination overriding her social finesse.

“Anyway, Mr. Annesley seems a good man, if the reports are true.
 
Let your heart judge this one, Bridget, instead of your sharp tongue,” said Mrs. Worthing, “Next week, the doctor wants me removed to the sitting room, to start building my strength.
 
Then I can help you girls, by observation at least.”

“That is great news, Mama!” cried Emily.
 
The following Monday Mrs. Worthing did journey downstairs for the first time in two years.
 
The entire family was overjoyed with having her in a common area where they could visit easily and see their mother normally dressed.
 
That Wednesday, Mr. Annesley called on the Worthings.

“Welcome, sir, welcome!” said Mrs. Worthing, bidding him to sit down.

“I was told you were ill, Mrs. Worthing, but I am very glad to see you in better health,” he said.
 
Emily and Bridget answered the summons, entering the room just as he sat.
 
Mr. Annesley hopped out of his chair and bowed to the ladies as they took their places.

“How nice to see you again, Mr. Annesley,” said Bridget.

“And you, Miss Bridget.
 
I am going to Tripton and hoped to be favored with your company,” said Mr. Annesley.

“To Tripton?
 
Aren’t you staying at the inn?” asked Bridget.

“Ah, no.
 
I have been staying at Reddester Hall since Saturday,” he replied.
 
Emily blinked at the new information.
 
After Mr. Wingrave greeted him in that fashion, how did Mr. Annesley gain admittance to Reddester?

“I would be delighted,” said Bridget.

“And you, Miss Worthing?” he asked.

“If the invitation is open, I will go as well.
 
Mama, may I fetch Genevieve?
 
Her lessons should be nearly over for the day,” said Emily.

“That would grand, Emily.
 
Do have fun!” said Mrs. Worthing.

“If you wait for me, in the front hall, I will find Genevieve,” said Emily.
 
Her youngest sister had finished her lesson and was more than grateful to go out of doors.

“I get to meet Mr. Annesley?
 
The one Bridget had talked of?” said Genevieve.

“Yes, my dear, but don’t tell him that,” laughed Emily.
 
They met the others in the front hall, Genevieve quite surprising Mr. Annesley by hiding behind her sister.

“Do I look frightening?” he asked, peeking around Emily.

“No,” said Genevieve.

“I shouldn’t.
 
I am skin and bones, human through and through, not a bogeyman.
 
See?
 
My hair is even the same shade as yours,” he persuaded her.
 
Blushing, she came out and curtsied.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said.

“Just as beautiful as your sisters,” said Mr. Annesley.
 
Genevieve’s blush deepened.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as Emily and Bridget giggled.

“Tell Mr. Annesley what you’ve been doing today,” he said, giving Genevieve his arm.
 
The four of them walked on, though at some point when Genevieve had exhausted her conversation, Bridget took her place.

Tripton itself was in high spirits that fair weather day, and they came upon the carriage stand just as the travel coach arrived.
 
From their position by a shop, Emily could see the passengers dismount.
 
The first was a local woman, returning from Dunbarrow, accompanied by a man.
 
The next passenger confused her, and she looked to Mr. Annesley for an explanation.

“He looks very much like you,” said Emily, interrupting what he and Bridget had been saying.
 
Mr. Annesley was the taller, but this man was more handsome in a manicured way.

“Do let us go in,” said Mr. Annesley.
 
He rallied Bridget and Genevieve, but Emily would not hide.
 
The man spotted her, and quite pleased with what he saw, approached.

“Excuse me, Miss…?”

“A gentleman should introduce himself before asking a lady’s name,” she replied.

“Forgive me, I am Mr. Jude Annesley.
 
Do you know of my brother?
 
Edward?”

“I know of him,” she said.

“Good, he is in this town?”

“As far as I know.”
 
Her shortness boggled him, so he pressed on with charm.

“Does a lovely lady like you know where the inn can be located?”
 
Emily pointed across the street and bid him farewell.
 
He gave her a haughty wave and went off to find his baggage.
 
The last passenger stretched with fatigue, a man in uniform, decorated highly.
 
She recognized the insignia of a Batteran and bowed her head in respect.

“Thank you, Miss.
 
I would have you look at me,” he said.

“Yes, Batteran?” she said.

“Batteran Phelps, my lady.
 
Can you direct me to Fortcaptain Wingrave?”

“I’m sorry?” she said.
 
Of all things he could have asked her, that was one of the last she expected.

“Fortcaptain Elijah Wingrave?” he asked again.

“Oh!
 
Um, excuse me, he has a house, Reddester Hall, a few miles southwest of Tripton.”

“Splendid.
 
I’ve business with Captain Wingrave, so your help is much appreciated.
 
May I ask your name?”

“Miss Worthing, of Charlton.”

“Much obliged, Miss Worthing,” said Bttn. Phelps, with a bow.
 
Alone on the street, Emily could have fainted from the multitude of information she’d just received.
 
She trudged into the shop, unaware of what they even sold.

“Miss Worthing?” said Mr. Annesley.

“Your brother?” she said.

“Not anymore.”
 
A deep sorrow filled him, crowding out the happiness he’d had just moments before.

“Fair enough,” she said.

“Was that a Batteran I saw?” he asked.

“Oh yes, he’ll be calling at Reddester,” said Emily, “I’m afraid I need to go home, I feel unwell.”
 
Bridget and Genevieve picked through fabrics on the other side of the store.

“If it has anything to do with Jude, I apologize,” he said.

“No, Mr. Annesley.
 
I will not pry into your family business, he did not offend me.”

“He is disowned.
 
Please do not think the worse of us.”
 
It seemed more that he did not want Bridget to think worse of him, but Emily did not point this out.
 
Whatever had happened was their own business.

“I will not, if you do not mention the Batteran to my sisters,” she said.
 
Bridget and Genevieve came closer.

“Agreed,” he said, smiling at them.

“Emily?” said Genevieve taking in the distress.

“I’m sorry, darling.
 
I do not feel well.
 
You two may stay with Mr. Annesley, but I must go home,” said Emily.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” asked Bridget.
 
Knowing that Bridget could not be out with Mr. Annesley alone just yet, Emily insisted they enjoy the town.
 
She began the trek back to Charlton.

Nothing had settled in her mind before she heard hoofbeats behind her on the road.
 
Serendipity shined down on her with a mischievous taunt--Mr. Wingrave travelled to Charlton, too.
 
He reined in his horse and dismounted.

“Miss Worthing!
 
What are doing out here by yourself?” he asked.

“Walking, Mr. Wingrave,” she said, not bothering to stop for him.

“You will not greet me properly?” said Mr. Wingrave.

“I am upset, sir, you will forgive me if I do not stand on ceremony just now,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Wingrave walked his horse up beside her.

“Perhaps I shall, if you tell me what upsets you.”

“I cannot say.”

“Now I must know,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“You have your secrets, and I have mine,” said Emily.

“I would allow you those secrets if I didn’t feel that you were upset with me specifically.”

“And if I am?”

“I cannot make amends without knowledge of my transgressions.”
 
Mr. Wingrave’s high spirits agitated Emily further.

“You are hiding things from me, and the friends you’ve made here.”

“Why does that upset you now?
 
I thought we’d discussed this already,” he said.

“It was different when I didn’t know some of what you’ve hidden,” said Emily to an aghast expression, “It begs the question, how much can one hide of one’s self before their character also becomes obscured?”

“I would have you tell me, Miss Worthing, what you have found out,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“It is uncomfortable, isn’t it, not knowing?” she said.
 
She could not fathom why she was so angry with him.

“Miss Worthing,” he said, voice harsh and miserable.

“You will know by day’s end, what I know.
 
Until then, savor this feeling and use it when next you make friends.”

“Emily,” he begged, “Please.”
 
Her given name rolled sweetly off his tongue, and her heart burst with sympathy.

“I would remind you that we are not family, Mr. Wingrave.
 
Or is it Captain?” she said.
 
His expression softened in pain.

“How?” he asked.

“Batteran Phelps arrived on the travel coach today, looking for Fortcaptain Wingrave.
 
He asked a passing lady where to find you,” said Emily.
 
Silence filled their time until he could speak.