Proper Secrets (15 page)

“My supreme happiness is barred from me, I can only glimpse it in moments like this, when I forget that you are not mine.”
 
Down on the keys, where no one else could see, Mr. Wingrave took her hand in his and continued to play with the other.
 
Emily flushed as he caressed it with the finesse of a worshipper, opening her palm and tracing the curves.
 
However highly improper it was, she allowed the intimacy to continue until one card group completed their game and Mary insisted they change out with Miss Morley and Mr. Sheridan.
 
The unlikely pair wanted a turn in the garden and could not be prevailed on to continue with another game.

“Miss Worthing, I was just discussing with your mother a trip to my parents’ estate.
 
Do you think I could have the pleasure of your company?” said Mary as she dealt the cards.

“Is it soon?” asked Emily in surprise.

“I leave at the end of the week.
 
Mr. Sheridan and Miss Morley are coming with me, but Elijah and Jonah will remain here.”
 
Emily looked at Mr. Wingrave who refused to meet her gaze, instead staring at his cards as if they held the knowledge of the universe.

“Mama, would you go?” said Emily.

“No, darling, I’m not yet well enough for that.
 
Bridget has already promised Mr. Annesley a picnic next week, but you and Genevieve are free to travel with Miss Wingrave,” said Mrs. Worthing.

“Oh please, Emily, can we go?” asked Genevieve.

“Well I… How long would we be gone?”

“A fortnight only.
 
’Tis a short visit,” said Mary.

“Is Peter coming along?” Emily asked.

“I have some business that cannot be left unattended,” called Peter from the other table.

“It would be just us females.
 
Miss Morley will be returning to her family home as well, so you, Genevieve and I would be the party,” said Mary.

“I do want to go Emily, please!
 
I’ve heard so much about Landhilton from Miss Wingrave,” said Genevieve.
 
At almost fourteen, Genevieve could not go alone.
 
Emily sighed.

“I suppose it has been awhile since I left Tripton,” said Emily.

“Then it’s settled.
 
We shall come for you on Friday morning,” said Mary, “Elijah don’t bend the cards!”
 
Mr. Wingrave dropped them on the table in shock.

“Sorry, I was thinking of something else,” he said, endeavoring to straighten them.
 
Allowed by virtue of being his partner to watch him, Emily noted every change in body language he afforded, from stiff anger to sluggish resignation.

“You are not at all paying attention tonight, brother,” scolded Mary when he gave up the winning point.
 
He glared at her until she changed the subject.
 
Mr. Wingrave left the card table and took Emily with him, despite the protests of his sister at losing their even number.

“There is one more song I wanted to play before night’s end,” he said, “You will have to listen instead of perform, if that is to your liking.”
 
Curiosity stoked Emily’s enthusiasm.

“Absolutely.
 
Let us hear it,” she said.
 
Mr. Wingrave adjusted on the bench and played without notation.
 
The melody drifted around Emily, infused with a sense of something she couldn’t define.
 
Wrongness?
 
Sorrow?
 
Every word required her to listen with more attention.

“A woman moved across the room,

Her eyes broke my heart in two.

Of late, I’ve been wondering,

If she is the very thing,

Keeping me from leaving.

Time goes on, duty calls,

I can’t have her after all.

I will take up sword and shield,

Ride out on the battlefield,

’Til my enemy doth yield.

Courage taken to go on!

Courage taken to go home!

There she is in light of day,

Smiling only for me.

Blessed I am to be set free,

I was kept in memory.

Only she could make me whole,

Only she could mend my soul.”
 
In light of the happy ending, Emily expected more mirth on the faces of her family and their Reddester company, but Mr. Wingrave’s performance had been so mournful that no one applauded.
 
No one moved, but to blink.
 
If his feelings for Emily had not been clear to all before, they were evident now.

“If this silence continues, I will be forced to play a dirge,” said Bridget seeking to take the attention away from Mr. Wingrave.

“Everything you play is dirge,” said Peter.
 
They successfully diverted the conversation with bickering.

“Mr. Wingrave?” said Emily.
 
His eyes had not left the pianoforte, but now he looked at Emily with a smile.

“Thank you for hearing it,” he said.
 
She nodded, very much disoriented.
 
Mr. Wingrave closed the lid of the instrument and leaned on it to talk with Emily.
 
He asked her opinion on everything, debating literature and philosophy as they arose.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak with such verbosity, Mr. Wingrave,” said Emily as her family prepared to leave.

“You will be away for a fortnight, I have to get my share of arguments before you go,” said Mr. Wingrave.

“A fortnight is not so long,” she said.
 
Mr. Wingrave looked deeply into her eyes.

“No, I suppose not.
 
Goodbye, Miss Worthing.”

“Farewell, Mr. Wingrave,” said Emily, dazzling him with an adoring smile.

Emily’s trepidation about traveling to Landhilton multiplied when she did not see Mr. Wingrave before they departed.
 
Mary arrived as planned and the three ladies journeyed in discomfort across from Miss Morley and Mr. Sheridan, who simpered at each other with great industry.
 
That Miss Morley’s carried an obviously deceptive ring to it, Emily did not think Mr. Sheridan grasped nor cared.
 
The eldest Worthing daughter instead turned her attention to learning more about her future host and hostess.

“I’ve been told Landhilton is an extensive property,” said Emily.

“It was a beautiful place to grow up,” said Mary.

“Tell me about your parents.
 
They must be kind to turn out such children.”

“Indeed.
 
They are forgiving, generous, and most kind.
 
They will be exceptionally pleased that I’ve brought them two songbirds to replace Elijah for a time.”
 
Mr. Sheridan and Miss Morley exited their company at the town of Marchwood to take another carriage, leaving them the room to breathe.

“Now we shall have peace,” said Mary, closing the door, “You may want to sleep.
 
We will not arrive until almost midnight.”

“I do not think I can sleep,” said Genevieve.

“Rest then, love.
 
Do not spend all your energy staring out the window, for you will need some to find your bed,” said Emily.
 
Genevieve settled into a restless meditation, laying her head on Emily’s shoulder.
 
Eventually the night overtook her, and she fell asleep.

“She is a precious child,” said Mary.

“Too close, I’m afraid, to not being a child anymore,” said Emily.

“I believe her transition to adulthood will be relatively untroubled, with her siblings to watch over her,” said Mary.
 
Emily smiled in satisfaction for she hoped the same thing.

Black iron lamps illuminated the first of Landhilton, globes of light sparkling off windows that moonless night.
 
Servants and stablehands waited for them, dwarfed by the building behind them.
 
They stood in a line at a sort of parade rest, only one man moved, presumably to call for his master.
 
Genevieve woke up in a panic when the carriage stopped.

“Why did you not wake me?” she cried.

“For what reason?
 
So that you could fidget endlessly?” said Emily.
 
Genevieve frowned, but held her tongue.
 
Lord and Lady Wingrave made up the perfect picture of nobility in their expressions and presence, until Emily and Genevieve descended from the carriage.
 
Then, panic arrested their civility.

“Mama!
 
Papa!” cried Mary.
 
She kissed them, either unaware of their change in demeanor or ignoring it.

“Mary, you did not inform us that you invited guests,” said Lady Wingrave.
 
This sounded to Emily more like, “you did not warn us.”

“A few friends of mine are not a reason to trouble you.
 
Mama, Papa, allow me to introduce Miss Worthing, and her youngest sister Miss Genevieve,” said Mary.
 
Lady Wingrave might have fainted were it not for the strong arm of her husband.
 
Lord Wingrave resembled his sons enough to bring Emily an embarrassing stab of pain.

“Mary’s friends are welcome here.
 
I am Lord Wingrave, and this is my wife and Lady.
 
Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said.
 
Their anxious stares revolved around the three females who had come to call.
 
Emily knew not what to say in light of such an awkward greeting, while Genevieve fluttered and squirmed under their scrutiny.

“Well, let us not stand out in the mist of night lest we catch cold,” said Lord Wingrave, calling out instructions for additional rooms to be opened near Miss Wingrave’s suite.

“Please, wait in here a moment while your rooms are readied.
 
We’ll call for you,” said Lady Wingrave.
 
Mary attempted to join them in the sitting room, but Lady Wingrave took hold of her arm and steered her into a room nearby along with the Lord.
 
Emily gestured for Genevieve to sit and wait for her in the dark room while she listened at the door, straining to catch some of what passed between the Wingraves.
 
It was impossibly rude to eavesdrop, and set a bad example for Genevieve, but curiosity overwhelmed Emily’s propriety.
 
In their haste, the door had not been shut fast to what looked like a small writing room on the other side of the hall across from a wide set of stairs.
 
A candle flickered violently in the room, and voices came through the crack.

“What were you thinking, Mary?” said Lady Wingrave.

“I want you to know them,” pleaded Mary.

“The association is not wise, we’ve said as much from the beginning.
 
You should have told us, at the very least,” said Lord Wingrave.

“Now we will have our very--“
 
A servant rushing up the stairs muffled the Lady’s words.
 
Emily cursed at the inopportune noise.
 
“Do you ever think of this family first?”

“I thought, that maybe… If we could just…
 
It is not only myself that I think of.
 
Elijah…
 
He’s in love with her.
 
And I, with Peter Worthing,” said Mary.

“Elijah?
 
In love?
 
What a brilliant mess, Mary.
 
What do you suggest?
 
Are you yet willing to acknowledge your mistake?
 
To allow the world to know?” asked Lady Wingrave.
 
Emily could barely hear over the pounding of her heartbeat, so close to finding out what plagued Mr. Wingrave.
 
Mary sniffled.

“I cannot bear thinking of it.
 
I would hide forever before I saw the censure in Peter’s eyes,” she whimpered.
 

“Then by your hand, you’ve created a situation in which the Worthings cannot prevail.
 
Is this how you would repay them?” asked Lord Wingrave.
 
A strangled sob slipped out of Mary’s throat.

“We will speak more of this in the morning,” said Lord Wingrave.
 
He swung the door so hard it bounced off the wall, and Emily had to stifle a gasp.
 
She tiptoed to the sofa where Genevieve sat confused.

“My word, did we leave you without a candle?
 
I apologize, ladies,” said Lord Wingrave, “Please, follow me, so we can all get to bed.
 
It has been a long night, for everyone.”

“Yes, sir,” said Emily, too bewildered by her stolen knowledge to create friendly chatter.
 
Even by candlelight, Landhilton impressed the visitors, and the sisters found themselves wanting to see more by day.
 
Their room and bed were too comfortable, even for nerves and scandal, to keep Emily awake.
 
In her last moments of consciousness, her mind touched briefly on the discomfort that had settled in since the card party at Reddester.
 
With a shock that she would forget by morning, Emily realized that Mr. Wingrave had been warning her, though of what, she still couldn’t discern.