Proper Secrets (20 page)

She had taken to reading every book in her memory with a love story, comparing her experience to that of the hero or heroine.
 
Tragic endings were no longer satisfying or sensical.
 
What was feeling if it was all for naught?
 
Emily had never felt more human, with her veins splitting farther every day that passed, blood would pour out of her body at the slightest cut.
 

Emily entered the drawing room, expecting to be beset with joy, but no one appeared any more enthusiastic than they would normally.
 
Mr. Annesley greeted her first.

“There you are, Miss Worthing.
 
I have not seen you in weeks, though I’ve frequented the company of your family.
 
How are you?” he inquired.

“Tolerable.
 
I’ve been doing research, in my room.
 
Mama, I was summoned?” said Emily.

“That was my doing,” said Mr. Annesley, “I’ve come to extend an invitation to you and your sisters, from my mother.
 
She wishes to meet you, and begs you to stay at Amberose, in Dunbarrow.”
 
Tangible happiness exuded from Bridget, though Emily was less enthused by the idea.

“That is extremely gracious, but I’m afraid only Bridget and Emily are old enough to accept.
 
Genevieve has never been to such a large social sphere, and I would not have her go without her parents,” said Lady Worthing.

“It is lucky then, that she is with Ms. Pierce at the moment, for her disappointment will be tremendous,” said Bridget, “Emily, you will accept, will you not?”
 
Keeping the panic away from her expression took most of her energy, and it was replaced by nothing, a blank stare.

“Um, excuse me.
 
I am caught off guard by the suddenness of it.
 
I can think of no reason why we should not go,” said Emily.

“Excellent.
 
I confess to boasting about your family to my relations in the letters I have sent, and they are all very curious.
 
If it is agreeable, we shall leave in approximately three weeks,” said Mr. Annesley.
 
It would have been improper to attempt going back to her room, so Emily mechanically sat at the pianoforte while the other three planned the visit.

“There are many more parties and balls in Dunbarrow, so you may need more clothing than you are used to packing.
 
And don’t forget what I’ve said about the wind, it is stronger in the confines of the city,” said Mr. Annesley.

“Ah!
 
I will finally get to hear the wind music,” said Bridget.

“Perhaps, if you do not cover your ears from the ache,” he said.

Emily shut her door, and breathed in the sweet air of solitude once more.
 
She had a few weeks to steel herself against constant company or risk frayed nerves.
 
Bridget’s joy would come first over any melancholy moping of hers.

Later, after Mr. Annesley’s invitation, Lady Worthing knocked on Emily’s door.

“Come in,” called Emily.
 
She set her book aside.
 
Her mother floated in, and rested her back against the doorframe.

“Close the door,” sighed Emily.
 

“Will you talk to me, love?” said Lady Worthing.

“I suppose it is time,” said Emily.
 
Lady Worthing sat on the bed and motioned for Emily to join her.

“Will you stay up here forever?”

“No.
 
Didn’t I agree to travel to Dunbarrow with Bridget?”

“That is a place with no memories.
 
I meant, are you lost to our family?”

“Of course not, Mama.
 
I will not dramatically perish of a broken heart in my room.
 
The depth of these feelings are incalculable, but it does not follow that my affection for Capt. Wingrave usurped my person so wholly that I would pain this family any longer with my malaise.
 
I cannot guarantee that which you seek, a full return to spirit, but I will make an effort to be present,” said Emily.

“That compromise, while not soothing, will have to do.
 
Do you know why he left?”

“We were becoming too close, too linked together.
 
He would not propose, could not, he said.
 
So, he left.
 
I’ve never felt more abused,” said Emily.
 
Lady Worthing closed her eyes.

“My poor children.
 
You ache so.
 
I would not have wished you to experience love this way,” said Lady Worthing.

“I can hardly complain after the bliss I’ve given up to this point.
 
If Capt. Wingrave had not come to Tripton, I would still be merrily unaware that not all love is good, certainly when shrouded,” said Emily, “I’ve been put on my guard.”

“That is the point, dearest.
 
I would not have you treat love with suspicion.
 
But… it cannot be helped after a disappointment like this.
 
He is a good man, Emily, I am sure of it.
 
Capt. Wingrave must have had a good reason.”

“You’ll excuse me if I treat your assertion with derision, Mama.
 
What reason in the world can there be for abandoning one you love to a lifetime of speculation about a future that could never be?
 
I conclude two possible truths from this question.
 
Either he did not love me as I thought, or Capt. Wingrave is so concerned he might injure me when he changes into a werewolf during the full moon I must be kept at a safe distance.
 
Hazard a guess at which one is plausible?”

“Oh Emily, don’t be absurd!
 
Of course he loves you!”

“You are then suggesting that Capt. Wingrave is a lycanthrope and of the highest danger to my person.
 
All is solved, as I would not be torn to shreds on my wedding night for lack of planning around the phases of the moon,” said Emily.
 
Lady Worthing laughed despite herself when she saw Emily’s teasing grin.

“All of my children have such wit about them, and a propensity to use it against me!
 
It is good to see you smile, love, but I will not dismiss the devotion I saw in him with my own eyes.
 
I hope that you will join us for dinner tonight?
 
Mr. Annesley is staying,” said Lady Worthing.
 
Emily grimaced, but resigned her evening to being in real company.

“Milbourne, what is one important thing to remember as an officer on the battlefield?” Capt. Wingrave asked his charges.
 
They had all read his manual from cover to cover, though some points would not be driven home without context.
 
Milbourne thought quickly and carefully.

“An officer should not distinguish himself as such on the battlefield unless it cannot be avoided, sir,” answered Swtnt. Milbourne.
 
Peter scoffed from his place at the end of the line.

“Something displeases you, Worthing?” asked Capt. Wingrave.

“I think this contradicts one of your cardinal rules stated at the beginning of the manual, sir,” said Peter.

“Which rule would that be?”

“Never ask your men to do what you would not, sir.
 
I am to ask them to paint targets on themselves while I hide in the back and pretend not to be in charge, sir?” inquired Peter.

“The capture or death of an officer is a blow to the men of his unit.
 
Hopefully, if you follow my other advice, no targets need be painted on anyone,” said Capt. Wingrave stopping his inspection in front of Peter.

“Yes, sir,” said Peter.
 
Capt. Wingrave was not going to allow this thread of disobedience stand.
 
Only the daily buzzing of soldiers in the hall disturbed the dead quiet of that Captain’s office.

“You think me a coward, Worthing?
 
That I tell my officers not to distinguish themselves out of fear for personal safety?
 
Are you familiar with the Battle of Chatwood Lowe?” said Capt. Wingrave.
 
The rest of the officers stood in tense observation of the personal battle unfolding between their superior and peer.

“I don’t recall…”
 
Capt. Wingrave smiled viciously.

“You don’t, because you weren’t there.
 
It was not a victory for Endland.
 
Before this battle, officers wore different uniforms from their men.
 
Instead of green with brown pants, we wore green, trimmed with gold, and white pants, now our ceremonial uniform.
 
The Sypass targeted and removed over three-quarters of the officers from their posts that day.
 
I lost friends, and brothers.
 
Afterward, I headed the initiative to change what devastated our forces.
 
What you wear now is of my own design.
 
Do you know why we lost, Worthing?”
 
Peter, badly shaken by this thunderous reproach, wagged his head.

“We lost because without their officers, our men were confused.
 
There was no chain of command, no organization.
 
Not only did three-quarters of the officers die, but half the soldiers.
 
Do you think me a coward?”

“No, sir,” said Peter.
 
The light of defiance had not left him, but open incivility had.

“Good.
 
Each Swordofficer has two Swordtenants to look after, you gentlemen will be no different.
 
Your Swordofficer will contact you as I assign you positions.
 
Dismissed,” said Capt. Wingrave.
 
Peter waited for a moment, as if to say something, then shook his head and joined the others.

“Peter Worthing,” muttered the Captain as he resumed his seat at the desk.
 
Of all the men who had sought Mary’s hand, Peter loved her, adored her like no other could.
 
Elijah tapped an empty quill on a blank sheet of parchment.
 
He read her last letter again.

“Dearest Brother,

I must be the worst of wretches.
 
Peter has been driven from his home, in shame, because of me.
 
I encouraged his affection, and I love him, or I thought I did, but how could I do this to one I love?
 
He has commissioned, brother, and you must tell me if you hear of him.
 
He must be safe.

Love,

Mary.”

Elijah wrote out a answer.

“Dear Mary,

Swtnt. Worthing is here, at Fort Jennings.
 
He is now one of my officers, and I will treat him as such.
 
I cannot promise you he will return from battle, but I will do my utmost to educate him.”
 
He went on to ask about Reddester and made all possible effort not to mention Emily.
 
Mary already took too much upon herself.

Taking her reanimation seriously, Emily set out for Barham Park to visit Anne, who she’d not seen in ages.
 
Upon arriving, she found Anne walking outside, while Jonah Wingrave applied at the door.
 
Emily nodded a greeting, but refused to make an effort to speak with him.
 
He may have been the only Wingrave left whom Emily would not frown upon, and she wanted things to stay so.

“Dear Emily!
 
You have come!
 
I’ve been so lonely without you,” said Anne, clasping hands and kissing her cheek.

“I’m sorry, old friend.
 
My situation is quite depressing, and I did not want to inflict it on you.
 
How fares Barham Park?
 
Is everyone well?” said Emily.
 
They began a long loop around the property, trading stories of their brothers and sisters.
 
Anne’s brothers had been promoted, and Victoria was quite in love.
 
Then came the unhappy moment when Emily had to divulge all that had happened with regards to Capt. Wingrave.

“I could not believe it myself when Mrs. Johnston told me that he had gone.
 
And not a word from him since?
 
No letters of understanding?” said Anne.

“Nothing,” Emily sighed, “My one chance to break our pact, and it is hopeless.
 
Barham and Charlton will yet have their old maids.”
 
Anne nodded.

“I would not have you marry anyone less progressive.
 
But Emily, I…”
 
Anne trailed off as a horse approached the house.

“Oh lord, it’s not Jude Annesley, is it?
 
I do not think my heart could take it,” said Emily.
 
A young gentleman trotted his mount right up to them, who Emily recognized as the new neighbor Anne met at the Barham ball.

“Miss Anne!
 
Good day!” said the gentleman.
 
He was not handsome at first, but his countenance made Emily think differently as time went on.
 
Anne blushed on seeing him.

“So lonely?” murmured Emily.

“Mr. Welles, this is Miss Worthing, of Charlton,” said Anne.
 
Emily stayed quiet during his visit, observing instead of conversing.
 
Anne had deceived her completely, for Mr. Welles looked on Miss Barham with great affection that was returned in earnest.
 
By the time, the gentleman left, Emily was quite diverted.