Proper Secrets (12 page)

“So soon?”
 

“Immediately, before I make promises I cannot keep.
 
Farewell, Miss Worthing.”
 
He was gone before she could reply.
 
Were it within her power, Emily might have run him down and demanded an explanation, but her legs and arms had gone weak.
 
Her little sister rushed into the room, eyes alight with conspiracy.

“Did it go well?
 
Did he propose?” said Genevieve.

“No, dear.
 
Do not assume that he will.”

“It is complex?”

“Quite.”

Everyone in Emily’ acquaintance looked forward to the ball at Barham Park with intense anticipation for there were no parties planned in the meantime.
 
The Worthings and the Reddester Hall friends took turns calling on each other, though Emily would not go to Mr. Wingrave’s house.
 
She took those opportunities to visit and walk with Anne.

“Mama informed me this morning that I will soon be walking with a Lord’s daughter,” said Anne as they rounded a hill in Barham Park.

“Aye, Papa was visited last week by a bookkeeper for the court.
 
Apparently, he’s purchased enough land between Charlton and the investments Peter handles to make up
 
an entire tract in Marian County,” said Emily, “I am proud of them, though we are all a bit skittish about the distinction.”

“Skittish?
 
Why so?”

“It changes little for us, though many will expect it to mean we shall put on airs.”

“That will pass with time.”

“I hope.
 
I’ve enough worries.
 
I see that Jonah visits Victoria again.
 
Have they spoken of more than the weather yet?” laughed Emily.
 
Anne rolled her eyes.

“’Tis an achingly slow romance.
 
At least, I have gotten her to admit that she likes him,” she said.
 
On the horizon, a horse galloped up the road.

“Who can that be?
 
Jonah is already here,” said Emily.
 
The figure grew closer, eliciting groans from both women.

“Jude Annesley?
 
I hope he comes to see Mama, Victoria is adequately occupied,” said Anne.
 
He changed course when he noticed the ladies watching him.

“Miss Worthing!
 
Miss Barham!
 
How are you today?” Jude greeted them.

“Very well, thank you, Mr. Jude.
 
Have you come to see Mrs. Barham?
 
She may be inside, visiting with Jonah Wingrave,” hinted Anne.
 
He frowned.

“Oh, I will not interrupt them.
 
May I join you on your walk, since your family is otherwise entertained?” said Jude.
 
Emily thought he should have acknowledged they were having a private conversation, but they would not be rude.
 
He talked of himself mostly, an amusement not lost on Anne and Emily.

“Where do you go after Tripton, sir?” asked Anne, hoping to draw out more for them to giggle over later.

“Once my business with my brother is concluded, I will go in search of more adventure.”

In a most unfortunate turn, the three of them ran across Jonah and Victoria just as they rounded a bend in the path.
 
The shy lovers panicked at being discovered together, though they stood an admirable distance apart.
 
Mr. Jude smoothed out a toothy smile into a grin as he approached Victoria.

“Miss Victoria!
 
I cam to visit and am pained to hear you are otherwise occupied,” he pouted.
 
To Emily’s astonishment, Victoria actually seemed worried that she’d hurt him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jude, but I have already promised Mr. Jonah a walk about Barham today,” she said, working her fingers together.

“Perhaps tomorrow then?” he countered.
 
A flicker of satisfaction in Mr. Jude’s eyes as he watched Jonah bristle made Anne and Emily sick to their stomachs.
 
They stared hard at Victoria.
 
She fidgeted and flushed with stress.

“I…
 
I have promised Mr. Jonah lunch tomorrow,” stammered the poor girl.

“Oh, well, some other time then.
 
Enjoy your walk.”
 
Mr. Jude gave her a pitiful wave as Jonah bravely took her arm and marched away.
 
Any pretense Jude had conjured fell when he returned to Anne and Emily.
 
Without missing a step he said, “I’ve often thought of traveling to Tadoros and tasting the spices across the Bay.”

“That is an adventure,” muttered Emily, still disoriented by his change in tone.

“Would you ever want to see a foreign country, Miss Worthing?” he asked.
 
His question was only a few handsome smiles from a suggestion.

“I may one day, when my family is not in need of me,” she replied.
 
Anne hid her shock by intently watching birds fly overhead.

“It is very interesting that you will not give up your independence for marriage and yet allow yourself to be tied down by obligations of that sort.
 
What is the point of guarding it from one and not the another?”

“That is a rather impertinent question,” said Emily, flushing.

“Is it?
 
Is it impertinent or uncomfortable?
 
I am attempting to understand your declarations from every angle.
 
I assumed that since you talk of your prejudice against marriage publicly that it was open to discuss,” said Jude.

“I will give you that I have invited discourse by daring to give my opinion openly.
 
It does not follow that my familial loyalty or obligation hinges at all on my signing over the rights to my property to a man.”

“Loyalty I grasp, but obligation?
 
Your family has the resources to get on without one daughter.”
 
Mr. Jude relished the state of unrest he caused, every new shade of red was a layer of emotion, good or bad.

“Perhaps they could ‘get on’ without my physical help, but how would it seem for me to abandon them in feeling?
 
To tip my bonnet and wish them well as I went to enjoy myself?” said Emily.
 
Anne watched them in fascination, having no interest in calling attention to her observation by speaking.

“A woman such as yourself would never abandon them in feeling, but feelings are not in the body, they are in the soul, which is at once nowhere and everywhere.
 
Your body need not be present for your family to know you love them,” said Jude.
 
Flummoxed with too many objections to make instantaneously, Emily glared at him until he laughed.

“Do not take me too seriously, Miss Worthing.
 
I am a philosopher who prods every idea with great care.
 
All this thinking has made me peckish, however.
 
I shall leave you to search out my lunch.
 
Good day, Miss Barham, Miss Worthing,” he said.
 
Emily barely curtsied to see him off.
 
When he had gone and the sound of his horse could be heard in the distance, Emily let out a enraged shriek.
 
Anne laughed through her disbelief.

“I am very glad you are the prettier, dear Emily.
 
If it means the attention of every cad that comes through town, positing their selfish ideas about my responsibilities, I pass on any scrap of beauty.”

“What nerve!
 
I can hardly see!” huffed Emily.
 
It took three swift loops around Barham Park to calm her.

“I think it is for the best if every woman in Tripton ignores Jude Annesley, especially Victoria.
 
From what I’ve heard, when he was disowned, the family cut him off from any fortune owed to him as the eldest son,” said Anne.

“Mr. Edward is the younger?
 
That is odd.
 
He is much more gentlemanly,” said Emily.
 
They agreed, and spent the rest of the visit dissecting Jude Annesley’s moral fiber.

Three weeks passed.
 
Emily and Mr. Wingrave shared the idea of avoiding another sensitive meeting, and did not join in the reciprocal visits of Peter, Bridget, Mary, and Mr. Annesley.
 
Jude Annesley visited Charlton one day, just long enough to make an enemy of Mr. Worthing by suggesting he hire someone to handle the farms once his title became official.
 
After a speech from the good Mr. Worthing, Mr. Jude did not reappear at their manor, much to Emily’s relief.
 
As she watched him leave, Emily took note of the Wingrave carriage approaching with Peter on horseback, trailing behind.

“Miss Emily, I’ve come to ask a favor,” said Mary once she’d settled in the sitting room, “I’ve found an old instrument in the attic and hoped you could evaluate it for me.”
 
Loathe to chance seeing the master of Reddester, Emily balked.

“Cannot Mr. Wingrave tune it?
 
Or at least determine its worth?”

“He has been gone from the house of late, taking a keen interest in the intricacies of his estate, constantly galloping to this farm and that,” said Mary.

“Very well.
 
When shall I come?”

“Tomorrow, if you are not otherwise occupied.
 
It will be Elijah’s private instrument if it has survived storage.
 
He asked me to order another if it did not,” said Mary.
 
Peter stole Miss Wingrave away to show her the library, and the date was set.

“I had Jacob move it in here so that you would not have to stoop in the dusty attic,” said Mary the next day.
 
The room was on the top floor of the house, away from the activity down below.

“Thank you,” said Emily.
 
She had never been alone with Miss Wingrave, but found it a peaceful experience.
 
Mary had a weathered serenity that younger ladies did not possess.
 
The keys of the pianoforte had been cleaned, as had the bench, so Emily sat without hesitation, despite the possibility of spiders still inhabiting its depths.
 
She ran her fingers from the tinkling highs to the booming bass lows.
 
The instrument itself was loose, but not without redeeming pitch and tone.

“Do you not play?” Emily asked as she continued her work.

“I do, but with no expertise,” said Mary.
 
With a nod, Emily transitioned into the same piece she had played for her mother and Mr. Wingrave, attempting to bring back that feeling of clarity.

“I have an odd question, Miss Worthing,” said Mary.

“Oddities are gems among the sand, Miss Wingrave,” replied Emily.

“You seem very secure in not marrying which leads me to believe your father has settled part of the Charlton estate on his daughters specifically.
 
Is this so?”

“He has made it plain in legal documents that we would be compensated upon his death, though I do believe Peter inherits the land.
 
He is a clever man, handles Papa’s investments in town.
 
I would not suffer,” said Emily.

“That is well.
 
I am glad you are all taken care of,” said Mary.
 
As if called by the music, Mr. Wingrave appeared in the doorframe, listening to Emily’s song.
 
She closed her eyes to resist examining him.

“How does it sound, brother?
 
If I had known you would be back today, I would not have troubled Miss Worthing to test the pianoforte,” said Mary.

“No, no, she is by far the superior musician.
 
It is perfection,” said Mr. Wingrave.
 
Emily rose, ending the piece abruptly.

“This instrument is quite satisfactory, Miss Wingrave.
 
A minor tuning and it would be fit for a king,” she said.

“Excellent, thank you Miss Worthing.
 
Let us rejoin the others then,” said Mary.
 
Emily obeyed, walking past Mr. Wingrave, keeping her eyes hidden.
 
Downstairs, Peter reclaimed the attention of Mary and Emily was free to stare out the window as Mr. Wingrave awkwardly stood without purpose in the middle of the room.

“We are all looking forward to the ball at Barham,” said Bridget.

“I only hope certain people do not attend, unless of course, Miss Worthing wishes to dance with them again,” said Miss Morley.
 
Emily looked over her shoulder at the insolent girl.
 
Miss Morley had the surety and smugness of youth in her sneer, and Emily could not rise to occasion that day, so drained from making her expression behave.
 
Rather than crafting a poignant, elegant rebuttal, Emily told the truth.

“I would not dance with certain people again if it would save me all the impolite comments in the world,” she said.
 
Miss Morley scowled mightily.

“I, for one, hope to dance with Miss Worthing, and all her sisters,” said Mr. Annesley.