Proper Secrets (33 page)

Towards the end of the season, when it became time for the Worthings to think of leaving, Mr. Annesley came to Daylily.

“Good day, Lady Worthing.
 
May I request the privilege of a private audience with Miss Emily?” he inquired.
 
Bridget fled the room with as much courtesy as she could manage.

“Certainly, Mr. Annesley.
 
I will go see how Genevieve fairs with her lessons,” said Lady Worthing, not at all excited as a mother should be at the cusp of a proposal.
 
Mr. Annesley smiled a bit.
 
Not being nervous or in love, Emily could look straight at him without trouble.
 
Any sensible person chiefly concerned with the truth would have interpreted this look as a preemptive refusal, but Mr. Annesley was far from in his senses, so affected he was by his circumstances and pain.

“I am sorry for everything that has happened to cause you pain.
 
I have seen enough of you in the last three months to know that my decision will bear the expected fruit.
 
I will endeavor to make you happy, and share everything I have with you.
 
Let us make the best of our bitter circumstances, let us promise to each other that the grief we have experienced is over.
 
Miss Emily Worthing, will you marry me?”
 
Mr. Annesley sat beside her during his speech, yet another warning to Emily.
 
He did not say he loved her, did not kneel before her as if he might perish at her refusal.
 
He offered her a business arrangement between good friends.

“Mr. Annesley, you must know I cannot accept.
 
I thank you very much for the care and attention that you have bestowed upon me, but my priorities have not changed.
 
I would hurt my sister beyond repair should I walk down the aisle with the man she loves.
 
I would hurt myself by ignoring my feelings, as unfulfilled as they may remain,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Annesley’s face hardened at the mention of Bridget.

“I have explained to you that your sister would not survive leading the Annesley family, and I will speak no more of her.
 
I came here for your hand.
 
Our marriage may cause a few pains at first, but when everything settles, I feel we can both be content with our lives.”

“I disagree and I wonder at your handling of this situation.
 
Do you think that marrying me will erase the strife from our lives?
 
And as to being content, I’d rather stay true to myself than wallow in tepid acceptance.
 
I do not love you, and I will not believe that you love me.
 
You won’t even allow the lie to pass your lips.”

“I love you, in a way.
 
It’s not the dizzying, irrational affection I may have felt otherwise, but it is a stout admiration,” said Mr. Annesley.

“I love you as a sibling, too, but no further.
 
I apologize for the failure of your plan.
 
If emotions could be controlled, it would have made sense, at least,” said Emily.
 
Mr. Annesley revolved from mortification to thoughtful agitation.

“Why do you insist that she loves me?
 
I’ve seen her with Mr. Sharp, and everyone is quite convinced he’ll finally take a wife,” said Mr. Annesley.

“Mr. Sharp has the happy ability to make anyone laugh, no matter how badly they’re feeling.
 
My sister is strong and dignified.
 
She would not let you see her suffer.”
 
Mr. Annesley rose and peered out the window.
 
He stood there for several moments; Emily felt forgotten.
 
At last, he turned back to her.

“Thank you, Miss Emily, for your time.
 
Your company has been most enlightening,” he said.

“Goodbye, Mr. Annesley,” she said.
 
After he had gone, it was but a minute before Lady Worthing descended on the room.

“Bridget is in a state upstairs.
 
Did he make you an offer?” said Lady Worthing.

“He did, and was refused.
 
I am ready to go home.”

“We all are,” sighed Lady Worthing.

Spring beckoned, and Charlton welcomed the return of its family.
 
Lord and Lady Worthing became concerned with the desolation of their daughters, for though Genevieve had not been crossed in love, her temperament reflected the attitudes of her sisters.
 
One night, after they had retired to their room, Lady Worthing fretted.

“I miss our girls, Roland.
 
I miss their smiles.
 
It’s all changed since the Wingraves came to Reddester,” said Elizabeth.

“It’s a little late now to think of the negative consequences of their coming.
 
I fear it was inevitable for our children, of bright and true emotion, to experience the pitfalls of reality, though I did not expect it to come from that corner,” replied Roland.

“I still can’t fathom what Mr. Annesley was about, romancing one sister while proposing to the other.
 
I am glad that Emily and Bridget stood together though, instead of allowing it to pull them apart, glad that Emily has put herself forward as a symbol of our family’s connection to one another in my absence.
 
Look at me, getting misty,” said Elizabeth, dabbing at her eyes.

“Time is on our side, Eliza.
 
Spring is coming, a chance to start anew,” said Roland before snuffing out the light.

 
When at last the trees grew buds and the morning frost became dew, the Worthings received a letter from Peter stating that he had been released from his active contract and would be returning home within days.

“Oh, here he comes!
 
Is that... the Wingrave carriage?” said Lady Worthing.

“It is!
 
That carriage was forever frozen in my memory, along with Emily’s face when the mud soaked her petticoat,” said Bridget.
 
Emily was too close to running away to feel humor.

“It’s just the carriage, not the man,” she told herself.
 
Capt. Wingrave had left her again, and this time there would be no sound reason for his reappearance.
 
He clearly favored Peter, and had a carriage sent for him.
 
The carriage came to a halt, and the door opened.
 
Peter stepped down, the only traveler.
 
Staving off crushed, ridiculous hopes, Emily smiled at her brother.
 
She allowed everyone else to greet him ahead of her, so that she could gather her wits.

“That was a fine carriage you arrived in, Peter, black as night.
 
Did Capt. Wingrave allow you to use it once you journeyed to Tripton?” inquired Bridget after their greeting.

“No, Capt. Wingrave ordered it for us at Fort Jennings.
 
We stopped at Reddester first to allow the Captain off, and then I was driven here,” said Peter.
 
Thought and meaning raced around and around, but Emily did not dare ask questions.
 
With every sidelong glance she received, Emily’s irritation blossomed further.

“Hello dear brother,” she said when Peter stopped in front of her.

“Hello, Emily.
 
Did you hear my news?
 
Capt. Wingrave and I will be working closely together on developing an official school for Endland’s officers.
 
It will be founded near here, on the Dunbarrow side.”

“That sounds perfect for you, Peter.
 
Congratulations,” said Emily.

“It might take years to establish properly so I hope you don’t tire of seeing me, or certain other people,” he said, leaning close to her at the end as the family walked indoors.

“If I do, I will be sure to inform you,” she replied.

The following day after breakfast, Peter disappeared, presumably to begin work with Capt. Wingrave.
 
Emily had not yet come to terms with Capt. Wingrave daring to show his face in Tripton again.
 
He’d left her alone twice, to wallow in self-doubt and regret.
 
Assuming he did stay at Reddester for the duration Peter mentioned, Emily would see him, and often.
 
As she carried a trio of books to the library, she planned on how to avoid the eventuality until her mind was quiet.
 
Emily walked through the door to the great book room, not bothering to look up until she heard voices.
 
Startled, she dropped the volumes.

“Oh, Emily.
 
Papa gave us leave to use the library for work,” said Peter.
 
Emily blinked at seeing the Fortcaptain as he rose from his chair.

“Excuse me,” she said, leaving the books on the floor, a capital offense, and rushing out.
 
The nerve of the man, coming to her home, and unsettling the effort Emily had made in setting herself to rights.
 
She was through the front doors and on the lawn before she heard footsteps behind her.

“Miss Worthing, it is good to see you,” said Capt. Wingrave.

“Is it?” said Emily in a frightful temper as she turned to face him.
 
The months of resigning herself had built her courage back up to its original forcefulness.

“Yes, most definitely,” he said.
 
Capt. Wingrave took her in like a man seeing the sunrise for the first time.
 
Emily walked again, toward a natural meadow at the back of the property.

“How could you come here?
 
How could you put yourself in my presence again?”

“I wish always to be near, should you change your mind.”
 
Capt. Wingrave sped up to keep pace with her.

“I have not.
 
You may go,” said Emily.

“Now who is being rude?
 
You cannot order me about, Miss Worthing,” laughed the Captain.

“I am not in a mood for jokes or mocking, sir.”
 
He nodded.

“I love you.
 
You’ve never allowed me to express it fully, so I have done so now.
 
I am so happy to see you.”
 
Emily stopped again, and compromised every principle she held dear.

“I am engaged,” she said.
 
It was a boldfaced lie, but he did not know that.
 
It was almost true, however.
 
Emily had thrown herself into the idea of being alone, of not being miserable without him.
 
She had committed to it.
 
That he would come back and hope for their relationship to grow challenged her resolve.

He went white, and reached up to feel the beating of his heart, as if to be sure there was a pulse.

“To whom?”
 
Emily had never witnessed more violent wretchedness in a person.
 
His expression was beyond tears of pain, and recognizing such a look had come from herself, Emily hung her head in guilt for causing it, but continued trudging toward the meadow.

“Myself,” she said.

“Emily Worthing,” he growled, “You will be my undoing.”

“Lies don’t feel like paradise, do they, Capt. Wingrave?”
 
He followed her still, keeping a distance.

“My family is not speaking to me because I have come here.
 
Mary is frantic that Peter will find out,” he said.

“Maybe she should be the one to tell him then.
 
Why does she worry?
 
She refused him,” said Emily.

“Do you seriously think she wants to offer him details of her disgrace?
 
She is so ashamed that even if Peter knew, I wonder if she would accept him.
 
Mary wants the best for him, and to her, that does not entail a fallen woman.”

“Then you are both blessed with the same flaw of disallowing others to decide what is best for themselves.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.
 
You left Tripton without telling me, without saying goodbye.
 
I had nothing, but to accept your decision.”

“It was a choice I was not ready to make.
 
My parents will not disown me, but they will not communicate any further while I insist on associating with your family.
 
Can’t you understand that they were hurt?
 
They trusted the Annesleys with their only daughter and she came back to them, unmarried and with child, heartbroken.
 
On top of that heartbreak came another, to give away that child.
 
My sister hates that I am a sworn brother to Peter.
 
She hates that I am here.
 
It is not just fear, but jealousy.
 
I had to make the choice to disconnect myself from them.
 
I can live in their disapproval, but I cannot bear the thought of watching you join with someone else.”

“I very much doubt that I will marry, Capt. Wingrave,” said Emily.

“That is enough, for now,” he said.
 
He left her at the edge of the meadow, bright spring flowers just beginning to lend peeks of their colors.

After a week of banishment from the library during the day, Emily complained at her brother after dinner.