Phillip Beaumont had been a frequent visitor since Emily’s birthday celebration. He often came for tea and stayed for supper as well, playing cards late into the evening. He was an amicable young man with a wry sense of humor, and his exaggerated descriptions of life in law school had everyone holding their sides with laughter. He was quite taken with Emily and enjoyed quiet walks through the gardens with her more than any other activity at Brentwood Manor.
Since Emily’s accident, Phillip came almost every day to keep her company. Emily liked Phillip and welcomed his companionship during her convalescence, but she was becoming aware of an underlying tension in these visits. She watched carefully one day trying to ascertain what the change was.
One day when Phillip arrived, he bent to kiss her hand as usual, but he lingered over it, if only for a few seconds. When he looked at Emily, his eyes seemed to bore into her, and he was more intense than usual. Though he still bantered and made her laugh, beneath his smile he seemed always to be studying her.
Emily began to feel uncomfortable around Phillip, sensing a seriousness developing on his part alone. She tried to keep Joanna with them as much as possible and encouraged Phillip to bring others along with him, which he seldom did. Emily knew what was happening and felt panic rise within her at the thought. She wished Jonathon were here.
• • •
Emily noticed another change at Brentwood Manor. David was acting quite uncharacteristically. At breakfast one morning he appeared with his vest buttoned crookedly. A small smile playing at her lips, Joanna straightened it for him. He then proceeded to pour coffee into an already full cup. Joanna laughed.
“David let me serve you before you do yourself some great bodily harm.”
“No!” he almost shouted. Glancing at a surprised Emily, he coughed and said more quietly, “No, I am well, Joanna. Please just sit and relax.”
For several days David continued to act in an absentminded way. Emily watched in bewilderment and would have been alarmed but for Joanna’s reaction—Joanna seemed to look on in good-natured amusement. If anything she seemed more serene than ever. Finally, Emily could stand it no longer.
“Joanna,” she said over their afternoon ritual of tea, “I am worried about David. He does not seem to be himself lately. Perhaps it is not my place to say anything, but you two have become so dear to me, like my own family, that I can keep silent no longer.”
“Emily, David is healthy and fit. I realize his actions have been bizarre of late, but that is only because . . . well . . . David is worried about me.”
“You? Why you look lovelier than ever! Joanna, is something wrong?”
“No, Emily, something is right. Very right. David and I are expecting a child,” she answered, tears of happiness springing to her eyes.
Emily sat up and started to rise, forgetting about her injured leg in the excitement. Joanna came over to her and they embraced happily, laughing and crying at once.
“How wonderful for you, Joanna! I am so happy for you both. No wonder David has been preoccupied lately.”
“Well, with good reason, Em. You see, we had a child, but he died in infancy. Since then I have had two miscarriages. We just pray that the Lord will bless us with a healthy baby. Oh, we are so excited, Emily,” she smiled. “Our son was beautiful. We believe he was conceived on our wedding night, our very first time together . . . ” Joanna continued talking gaily, but Emily did not hear her. The words “our very first time together” rang through her head. Could she, too, be with child? She was astonished that the thought had never crossed her mind before. She and Jonathon had been together several times; the chances were high. Her mind raced. What would he do if she were carrying his child? They had neither spoken of marriage—nor of love—although many times Emily yearned to tell Jonathon of her love for him. But she never did. Emily remembered Mrs. Dennings’s dire warning, He has a reputation with women. Emily knew that Jonathon was well experienced, but none of these women were his ward, lived under the same roof or, as far as Emily knew, bore his child.
Yes, this was quite a predicament George Wentworth had created. Neither of them had planned their passion in the cabin, and yet it seemed as natural as a stream flowing to the sea. But what now? When Jonathon returned, and that would be soon, would they continue as before?
Emily knew that if she were pregnant, she would not want to trap Jonathon into a marriage he did not want. She was wise enough to know that it would ruin any affection he had for her. If she were not pregnant, it would be wise to discontinue their intimacy and be grateful.
But the thought of never lying in Jonathon’s arms again was agony; the thought of carrying his child made her heart leap with joy. Emily wished that Jonathon were there with her at that moment, for if she could look into his eyes, she would know his heart.
Noticing the silence, Emily looked up. Joanna had been studying her for a few minutes. She saw the confusion on Emily’s face, and her heart went out to her.
“Do you suspect that you, too, could be with child?” she asked softly.
“I do not know yet,” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Oh, Emily,” Joanna cried and wrapped her arms around the girl’s trembling shoulders.
“I love him so, Joanna, but I know he loves his freedom. He loves the sea and his land; I do not think he has room for a wife.”
“Emily, he has said as much. But surely if you carry his child . . . He should never have trifled with you,” she said angrily.
“Please, Joanna, it was not only Jonathon’s fault. I wanted him, too, and it was quite . . . well, spontaneous. And mutual. But to have him marry me because I carry his child would only lead to resentment. Perhaps he would allow me to return to London with a fabricated husband who left me a widow,” she paused a moment. “There is another twist to all of this. I suspect that Phillip is going to propose to me.”
Joanna laughed. “That is as obvious as the nose on your pretty little face, Em. Wait!” she cried, her eyes getting large. “Do you love him—or at least find him attractive? Maybe Phillip is the solution to this whole problem.”
“Joanna!” Emily gasped. “You cannot think that I would marry Phillip when I carry Jonathon’s child . . . if I carry Jonathon’s child.”
“Well, I thought it might work. Oh, Em, I could throttle my brother right now. I do not know what he thinks and feels. Perhaps he does love you . . . ”
“Joanna, please,” Emily interrupted. “I cannot bear to think that, for it is what I hope and pray with all my heart. And if I begin to believe it and find it is not so, I fear I would go insane. I will keep the memories of our times together as a precious treasure, but I will allow it no more.”
“Times?” Joanna blurted out.
Emily blushed and looked down at her hands.
“Oh, Em, you are hopeless,” she wailed and gently patted the girl’s shoulder.
• • •
Finally Emily was allowed to walk, although her ankle ached if she stayed on her feet too long. Jonathon had been away for a little over a month, and Emily found herself growing more and more restless awaiting his return. Anything that sounded like hoof beats brought her to a window at the front of the house. At night she lay in bed longing for the feel of his warm, lean body close against hers, for his gentle touch and low, sweet voice.
Unable to concentrate, she abandoned a book she had been reading. She even felt unsociable and, seeing Phillip riding up the drive instead of Jonathon one afternoon, the disappointment was almost too much to bear. She wanted to flee to her room and beg a headache, but she remained and received him in the sunlit parlor.
“Emily, you look lovely today. It is so good to see you up and about.” He took her hand and kissed it slowly, then looked up into her eyes. Emily looked away. He sat beside her on the settee. “Any news of your brother yet?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she answered.
“Emily, do you feel up to a brief walk?”
“Yes, that would be nice, Phillip.”
The chilly November air was sharp compared to the mild October they had enjoyed. Emily drew her cape closer about her.
“Are you cold, Emily?”
“I do not mind, Phillip. I was beginning to feel cooped up inside. I enjoy the outdoors, even when it is brisk.” She smiled at him, “It is so good of you to visit this invalid.”
“My pleasure,” he beamed. “Perhaps tomorrow I shall bring the carriage and we shall take a ride. Would you feel up to that?”
“Oh, yes, I would.” Her only excursion had been a trip to a village so Joanna could buy some lace to trim baby clothes. Emily had waited in the carriage while Joanna shopped, but she had enjoyed the outing and an opportunity to observe the changing countryside preparing for winter. Her spirits lifted at the thought of another excursion the next afternoon.
At supper Emily was bright and talkative with the next day’s outing to look forward to, and Jonathon and Andrew’s homecoming imminent. Joanna and David noticed her mood change, too.
“You seem quite chipper this evening, Emily,” David remarked.
“I have been invited for a carriage ride with Phillip tomorrow and . . . uh, my leg is feeling so much better,” she replied. Though she was looking forward to the carriage ride, she knew her spirits lifted at the thought of Jonathon’s pending return.
“Well, it is good to see you like this.” He smiled and took Joanna’s hand gently. “Joanna and I care very much about you, Em. We like to see you happy.”
Emily smiled warmly, “You have made me feel very welcome here. Brentwood Manor feels like home to me, and I know Andrew feels the same way. We were frightened when we left England, not knowing what to expect. But you have both been wonderful.”
“Do not forget to include Jonathon. He is, after all, your guardian. And he is the one who made Brentwood Manor your home,” David said.
Emily shot Joanna a glance. “Yes, Jonathon has been wonderful . . . to both of us.”
Joanna rose. “Well, is anyone in the mood for a game of whist?”
• • •
Phillip arrived punctually the next afternoon. After hopping down from his carriage, he bounded up the steps to the front door. He awaited Emily in the parlor, and then greeted her with a warm smile and an approving look when she entered. Emily wore a powder blue dress embroidered with pale yellow flowers, yellow lace at the neckline and at the elbow-length sleeves. Phillip helped her with her blue velvet cape, and then they walked out into the sunshine. Making her way carefully down the steps, Emily waited for Phillip to assist her into the coach.
The carriage rolled off and Emily settled back into the seat. The sun was bright, the air crisp and bracing, and Emily breathed it deeply. The carriage rolled over a muted carpet of newly fallen leaves. The sharp smells of fall, dead leaves and fresh earth, were invigorating and Emily felt refreshed.
“Comfortable?” Phillip asked.
“Mmm,” Emily murmured.
They rode in silence for a while. Occasionally Phillip would point out an interesting spot or a lovely view. He watched Emily out of the corner of his eye, enrapt with her beauty, sensing her coolness.
“Emily, what was the voyage from England like?” he asked.
“Long.” Emily laughed. He waited for her to continue. “Well, sad, I suppose. Yes, I was very sad to leave London, and I was grieving for my father. There was a terrible storm, and Andrew was almost killed. Jonathon saved his life.”
“Jonathon’s quite a man.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I wonder that he never married,” Phillip said looking at Emily. She was silent.
“Why do you suppose that is?” Phillip persisted.
“I do not presume to know Jonathon’s mind, Phillip. I am sure he has his reasons.”
Phillip slowed the carriage down. “What was it like being together on the ship all that time?”
Emily looked at Phillip angrily. “Just what are you suggesting, Phillip?”
He looked out at the trees, then at Emily. “I am sorry, Emily, I did not mean to suggest anything. It is just that . . . Well, I wondered how you feel about him. He is a very handsome, rugged man, one I am sure women fall in love with easily.” The carriage had stopped. The forest sounds filled the silence between them.
“Perhaps you had better take me back, Phillip.”
“Wait, Emily. Please let me explain.” He took her hands in his. “Emily, I have come to see you almost every day. When I leave you, my soul aches to return to you. I see your face and hear your voice waking and sleeping. I long to reach out and hold you in my arms; crush you to me. The feel of your hand against my lips thrills me through my whole being, and I am driven to the brink when I think what the touch of your lips would do to me. Emily, I want you to be my wife.”
In spite of her anticipating this, Emily sat rigid in shock. Phillip took her in his arms and gently kissed her lips. She felt him shaking as he released her, and she looked into his blue-gray eyes that were half shocked at his own boldness and half-delighted at finally having kissed her. Although his kiss was tender, it did not send shivers of delight through her as Jonathon’s mere look did.
“Phillip—” she began.
“No, Emily, do not answer yet. Think about it carefully. I still have to wait for Jonathon to return and ask for your hand properly.”
Emily’s head reeled as she thought of the possibilities in that encounter.
• • •
Shortly after Phillip and Emily had left, another carriage arrived at Brentwood Manor and out spilled Andrew and Jonathon.
“We are home!” Jonathon called.
Joanna ran from the house and Dulcie ran out another door to fetch David. Jonathon grinned at his sister and swept her into his arms, but kept one eye on the door, the whole time awaiting another.
“What a lovely greeting, Jonathon!” she laughed. “Did you miss me so much?” After she hugged Andrew, the three walked into the house together.
“Where is Emily?” Jonathon asked nonchalantly.
“She went for a carriage ride with Phillip,” Joanna answered pouring wine into four goblets. Jonathon’s face fell, but he recovered quickly. David entered and greeted them both heartily. They toasted a successful voyage and Jonathon filled them in on events while he was away. As his eyes frequently wandered to the front windows, Joanna hid a smile in her wine glass. A half-hour passed, Jonathon pacing the room. David rose to return to work, and Joanna put the glasses on a tray and carried them out. Andrew left to see to his unpacking, and Jonathon continued to pace.
Alone in the room, Jonathon leaned his forearm against the marble mantle and stared at the fire for a long time. The exuberance he had felt upon arriving was replaced with disappointment. Where the devil was she? His arms ached to hold her, to feel her warmth, to smell the sweet scent of jasmine that she always wore. To feel that silken skin beneath his hands and the passion that stirred in her small, slender body. He shook his head to change his train of thought. Keep that up and he would take her right in the foyer. Throughout the trip from Massachusetts his mind had been full of the possibilities their reunion presented. The carriage ride from the port had been almost unbearable. And she was out riding with Phillip.
After what seemed an eternity he heard horses’ hooves and hastened to the window. Phillip was drawing the carriage up to the house and beside him sat Emily. Jonathon watched as Phillip hopped down and went around to help Emily alight. They spoke briefly and Phillip bent and kissed Emily’s cheek tenderly. She gave him a small smile, and he helped her make her way carefully up the steps. Once at the top, they were out of Jonathon’s view. He wondered if Phillip were kissing her again, perhaps more passionately than before. He wondered how Emily would respond to Phillip’s kiss, and his disappointment at Emily’s absence upon his return slowly turned to anger. He stood lost in thought until he heard the front door close and Emily’s footsteps in the hall. Turning slowly, he faced her as she entered the room.
“Jonathon!” It was a question as much as a statement, for her initial impulse upon seeing him was to run to his arms. The look on his face stopped her.
“Good day, Emily.”
She glanced at the window, then at him.
“When did you arrive?” she asked.
“Shortly after you left with Phillip.”
Emily winced. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks, but it was not as she had imagined it so many times. Instead of taking her in his arms, Jonathon stood rigidly, looking at her strangely, a frown on his face.
“Well, did you have a pleasant ride?” he asked flatly.
“It was nice to get out for a bit, yes,” Emily replied removing her cape and turning to a chair to lay it on. “Jonathon . . . ” she said turning back to him, “I . . . ” She stopped, his cold, flinty stare freezing her approach, suspicion clouding his face. “I need to lie down for a while,” she said and left the room.
• • •
Emily lay across her bed, one arm flung over her tear-stained face, confused and angry. Rather than Jonathon’s arrival helping solve her problems, it seemed to complicate things even more. At least she had been assured a few days earlier that she was not with child; that was one less complication, although she felt strangely disappointed.
Her head whirled with the events of the day. All her high hopes had been crushed; her eagerly anticipated ride turned into a nightmare. How could she refuse Phillip’s proposal without hurting him deeply? Jonathon obviously had seen them arrive, but what had he seen? Phillip’s kiss had been brotherly. Could Jonathon be jealous?
Or, could Mrs. Dennings have been right? Had their times together been mere play for Jonathon before he moved on to his next conquest? As he had done to Deidre? Emily felt sick. She buried her face in her pillow giving vent to her broken heart. Finally, she lay in silence, drained and tired. Although the afternoon sun was low on the horizon, she did not rise to light the lamp. She stared at the canopy over her bed and tried to sort out her mind and come to some sensible solutions. Her heart stopped at a tap on her door.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Andrew.”
“Come in, Drew,” she answered, sitting up. He poked his head in and glanced around at the darkness. Emily lit the lamp beside her bed and laughed at her brother’s rumpled clothes and tousled hair. Yawning, he padded across the floor in his stockinged feet and gave her a hug.
“I started unpacking and sat down on the bed. The next thing I knew, it was dark outside! Jonathon is quite the taskmaster!”
“It keeps you out of mischief.” Emily smiled and kissed his cheek. They visited awhile, talking of his voyage. Andrew was almost as good a storyteller as his father had been, and his animated tale kept Emily entertained until Dulcie came to announce supper.
Emily looked down at herself. She was as rumpled as Andrew. They looked at each other and laughed.
“I shall be back in ten minutes to escort you,” Andrew challenged.
“I shall be ready!”
Splashing some water in the basin, Emily washed her face. She pinched some color into her cheeks and took a comb to her golden-streaked hair. Hurriedly, she changed into a fresh dress and checked her appearance in the mirror. With a minute to spare before Andrew arrived, she thought about seeing Jonathon again at supper, and her heart began to hammer.
The candles lent a golden glow to the dining room reflecting off the crystal and china. David, Joanna, and Jonathon were seated and speaking excitedly when Andrew and Emily entered. She caught Jonathon’s eye, but could not read what was there. He and David rose as Andrew seated her.
Emily’s heart pounded so hard she was certain everyone at the table could hear it. She picked at her food, hardly eating anything since her stomach was full of butterflies. She looked up and caught Jonathon staring at her, a bemused look on his face. Then he turned to answer David’s question.
The men talked about the voyage and the plantation throughout the meal. Joanna offered comments occasionally, but for the most part, the women were quiet. It was torture for Emily to sit so near Jonathon and neither talk to him nor understand what he was thinking. The meal dragged on until Joanna finally excused herself and Emily while the men lingered over brandy and cigars. As the women rose and left, Jonathon’s eyes never left Emily’s back.
Picking up some embroidery, Joanna sat in the chair across from Emily. She looked at the younger girl who was staring into the fire. Dulcie entered with a tea tray and set it down on a table beside Joanna.
“How was your ride with Phillip today?” Joanna asked, pouring the tea.
Emily accepted the cup from Joanna and sighed.
“He asked me to marry him,” Emily answered dully. “He was waiting for Jonathon to return so he could ask for my hand.”
“Oh, dear!” Joanna stopped stirring her tea.
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in her thoughts. Joanna finished her tea and picked up the baby gown she was working on.
“Things did not go well with Jonathon today?”
“No,” Emily replied.
Joanna pursed her lips and nodded once slowly. She began to prattle on about local gossip, aware that Emily needed some senseless noise and time to think.
The men joined them, and David pulled a footstool over to Joanna’s chair. Jonathon pulled on a fresh cigar while he stoked the fire. He walked over to the window and stared, unseeing, into the night. Andrew talked Emily into a game of cards, and as he sat at the table he called, “Come on, Jonathon, play a while. Let me win back some of my money.”
“Andrew, were you gambling?” Emily gasped.
“We must do something to while away the lonely hours at sea and in strange ports,” Jonathon answered her. Emily’s heart raced and she realized that his words were intended to send her a message: his time away had been spent innocently in the company of his men. Slowly, she looked up into his eyes, soft and brown. She had memorized every detail of them.
He sat at her right, and they began the game. Emily felt exhilarated at his nearness, yet frustrated that she could not reach out and take his hand. It was a wonderful-terrible evening, and she was glad when it ended for she pondered—half hoping, half dreading—the possibility that Jonathon would come to her room later.
• • •
Emily sat before the mirror brushing her hair. She had donned a filmy, cream-colored nightgown that flattered her shapely figure. Her heart raced and her ears strained for the sound of Jonathon’s footsteps at her door. She realized as she viewed her image that she would not refuse him if he came to her. All her brave resolutions and promises to herself had melted away at the sight of him today.
Slowly, she approached her bed and climbed between the cool, smooth sheets. She extinguished the lamp and watched the flames in the fireplace. Every nerve and muscle in her body was tensed and waiting, hoping for the door to open. As happens in the stillness of the night, all her fears and doubts snaked through her mind, magnified by the dark, and the quiet, and the solitude. She lay like that for what seemed like an eternity and finally admitted that he was not coming. She tossed and turned trying to ignore the thoughts in her head that said: Mrs. Dennings was right. Deidre was right. You are a fool. Exhausted, her pillow crushed against her ears to drown out those insistent voices, she fell into a restless sleep as dawn streaked the eastern sky.
• • •
“Good morning, missy,” Dulcie trilled as she opened the drapes.
Emily emitted a moan as she peered from beneath the pillow.
“You will miss breakfast if you do not hurry,” Dulcie admonished. “Come on, I shall help you.”
Washing and dressing quickly, Emily was soon down in the dining room. The sideboard was still full of plates offering ham, eggs, corn bread, and sweet rolls, but everyone else had eaten and gone on about the business of the day. Emily poured some coffee and reached for a slice of ham. She nibbled thoughtfully and sipped her coffee. Her appetite meager, she left in search of the others. Joanna had gone off to visit the neighbors. Andrew had gone off with David and Jonathon to see about one of the tobacco fields in the southern portion of the plantation. They were not expected for dinner.
Emily wandered aimlessly through the house and, then, donning her cape, went into the garden. The day was overcast and cool, and the damp air signaled a pending shower. She walked the grounds for a bit and then went inside, returning to her room and curling up on the bed with a book. The lack of sleep from the previous night caused her to yawn again and again. Soon, the book slipped from her hands, and she slept deeply.
• • •
Emily slept until after teatime; the sun was low in the sky. She felt refreshed, though still a little groggy. There was a rap on her door and Dulcie entered.
“Captain Brentwood would like to see you in his study, Miss Emily.”
Emily looked at her in surprise.
“Tell him I shall be there in a moment, please, Dulcie.”
As the door closed, she hurried to the mirror. She brushed her hair and pulled it back in combs. She patted her face with a cool, damp cloth and then, satisfied with the results, went downstairs.
Emily found herself trembling, so she clasped her hands in front of her in an attempt to quell their shaking. She knocked on the study door and heard his deep voice, the voice she longed to hear more than any other, bid her enter. Taking a deep breath, she did so.
The fire crackled and spit, but did not seem to warm the icy stillness of the room. Drizzle spattered against the windows and ran down the panes in weeping rivulets. A slash of pale white across the horizon was the last evidence of the setting sun. Ticking ominously, the grandfather clock seemed to hold the couple to a set cue.
Jonathon stood behind his desk, his back to Emily. He was looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, a cigar in his mouth. Reaching up, he removed the cigar, but did not turn around.
“You slept soundly,” he stated.
“Yes, I was quite tired,” she replied, trying to see his face.
“Phillip was here.”
She did not speak. Her mind raced. What did they say to each other? Did Jonathon, in a fit of jealous rage, order him from the house? Or did he, unmoved and uncaring, smirk at the innocent young man’s request? The silence fell between them like distant thunder.
“He said that the two of you want me to give you my blessing.” Jonathon turned, eyes blazing. “Are you so fickle, Emily, that if I cannot warm your bed, you will find another who will?”
“How dare you . . . ” she sputtered.
“I thought you were the innocent virgin—well, I was right about the latter, but perhaps once that was taken care of you felt free to, shall we say, dabble?”
“Why, you hypocritical bastard!” she seethed. “I suppose you were celibate all this time too? No frolicking with the seaport whores for Captain Brentwood. Your reputation for faithfulness precedes you. Just ask Deidre Manning—she can give a full account of the wandering captain,” Emily stormed.
“Well, Phillip seemed entirely pleased with himself. Puffed up like a cock-rooster thanks to your charms, Emily.” He glared at her. “You seem to be quite generous with them.”
“Just what did Phillip say to you?”
“That you were so moved by his proposal, you were speechless. But that it was sealed with a kiss. A kiss my eye!”
Emily stood stock still in amazement. How could Phillip have jumped to that conclusion? What was worse, how could Jonathon believe this of her? She shot him a scathing look.
“A kiss was all, Captain. Phillip is a gentleman!” turning in a whirl of skirts, she fled to her room.
Jonathon slammed his fist on the desk and cursed.
• • •
Pacing in her room, Emily muttered angrily. She stopped and jabbed at the fire, then slammed the poker into the stand. Angry tears flowed down her cheeks, and she brushed at them with the back of her hands. She stopped at the window and pressed her forehead against its coolness. Rage lessened to frustration, and her shoulders shook with despairing sobs.
After a while, she pulled herself together and freshened up for supper. She would not hide in her room—she had done nothing wrong. Squaring her shoulders, she went downstairs. She met David and Joanna walking arm in arm into the dining room. At the sight of Emily, they stopped in their tracks. Her red eyes held such sadness they were shocked. Joanna went to her.
“Emily, dear, what is wrong?” she asked.
“A slight misunderstanding,” Emily tried to laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “Please, Joanna, I cannot talk about it right now.” She pressed past them and sat down.
She was the first at the table, and then Joanna and David sat down. Andrew was spending a few days at his best friend, Calvin’s. Finally, Jonathon stalked in scowling, a drink in his hand. Joanna looked from him to Emily as David began the grace.
When he finished, David raised an eyebrow at Joanna. She shrugged slightly and began to eat. The two of them might have been alone for their attempts at drawing Jonathon and Emily into the conversation proved useless. The meal passed in stilted conversation and awkward silences. Finally, all excused themselves to different parts of the house: Jonathon to his study, Emily to her room, David and Joanna to theirs.
• • •
Emily changed into her nightgown and gave her hair a quick brushing. Feeling tired and drained, she climbed into bed. As she pulled the blankets over herself, there was a knock on her door. Her heart pounded.
“Come in,” she called.
Joanna entered, and Emily’s heart sank. Sitting beside her on the bed, Joanna took Emily’s hand.
“What is it, Emily?” she asked gently.
“I do not think I can talk about it.”
“I know Phillip was here this afternoon. Did he ask Jonathon for your hand?”
Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes then ran unchecked down her face.
“He led Jonathon to believe that I had already accepted and in my fervor, kissed him passionately. Jonathon practically accused me of lying with Phillip while he was away.” She buried her face in her hands; the hurt was almost unbearable.
Joanna wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl. “My brother’s a fool!”
“We said terrible, hurtful things to each other,” Emily cried. “How could he believe this of me? Why did Phillip think I had accepted his proposal?”
Joanna stroked her hair and patted her back.
“Emily, it will all work out,” Joanna said, wishing she felt more confident that it would. She stayed until Emily settled down, talking softly, soothing Emily’s fraught nerves. Finally, seeing exhaustion taking over, Joanna left and Emily fell asleep.
• • •
When Emily awoke the next morning, her head ached and her eyes burned. The bright sun streaming in the window did not help. Rising slowly to ease the throbbing in her head, she bathed and dressed. Making her way down to breakfast, she paused at the front door. Impulsively, she opened it and stepped out to take some deep breaths of fresh air. The air filled her lungs and her head began to clear. The sun still stung her burning eyes, but she felt better. She hurried inside to join the others.
David and Joanna still lingered over their breakfast. Jonathon’s place had been cleared away already, and Emily felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
“Jonathon had to go into Williamsburg for a few days,” Joanna explained, reading Emily’s thoughts. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
David rose to seat her and patted her shoulder, smiling into her eyes. Emily covered his hand with hers and squeezed it gently in thanks.
They talked of trivial matters and tried to keep the conversation light for Emily’s sake. There was to be a public time, a social gathering including theatre and a ball, in Williamsburg the following week, and the House of Burgesses would be in session. David suggested they accompany him and spend a couple of nights.
“Oh, David, how wonderful!” Joanna cried. Rising, she went over to kiss him and boldly sat on his lap. David grinned and hugged her, then coughing, blushed and lifted her to her feet.
“Joanna—” he said.
The women laughed and, blustering, David rose and excused himself. Then he laughed, returned and gave Joanna a long kiss, winked at Emily, and left for the fields.
“You are so fortunate, Joanna,” Emily sighed.
“I know. And I thank the Lord every day. Things will work out for you as well, Emily.” Joanna reached over and gently held the girl’s hand.
Emily did not answer. She just tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
• • •
Phillip arrived that afternoon, as Emily suspected he would. Instead of feeling the friendly warmth his visits brought, resentment welled up within her. It was made worse by the fact that he came in the carriage again rather than on horseback. Emily awaited him in the parlor, and when he entered and took her hand to kiss it, it was all she could do not to shrink away from him.
“Shall we take a ride, Emily?” he asked excitedly.
“No, Phillip, not today.
He looked crestfallen. He sat beside her on the settee, and she rose to ring for Dulcie. She then sat in a chair across from him. A look of bewilderment crossed his face and then disappointment when Joanna entered with a tea tray—with three teacups.
Setting the tray down, she stole a glance at Emily who smiled in gratitude. Then Joanna sat beside a confused Phillip and began to pour.
They passed a congenial time chatting, and Emily almost giggled in relief several times. She was too drained and too tired to handle Phillip today. She suspected Joanna had an alternative reason for appearing, though she did not know what it was.
Finally, sensing that Joanna was a permanent fixture for the afternoon, Phillip rose to leave. Noting that Emily remained in her seat, he quickly donned his cloak and left.
“I suspect Phillip is a little disappointed with this afternoon’s visit,” Joanna remarked.
“More than a little. Thank you, Joanna. After the scene with Jonathon last night, I could not have taken another one with Phillip today.”
“What will you tell him?”
“I do not know. But I cannot marry him, not when I . . . ” she stopped. “The affection I feel for Phillip has been shaken by his presumption and premature action,” she said stiffly.
Joanna looked at her. “Remember why he acted that way, Emily.” Then to soften the rebuke she added, “Love does strange things to people.”
• • •
Everyone had gathered in the parlor, Joanna working on more baby clothes, David reading beside her. Andrew and Emily were playing cards when she heard Jonathon’s horse in the drive. To Emily, it seemed like forever before he entered the room. He called a greeting to everyone and, meeting Emily’s eyes, nodded slightly. Emily’s eyes followed his every movement, admiring his tall, lean figure dressed in a brown longcoat and tan breeches. He looked drawn and tired as he walked to the fireplace to warm his hands. David poured him a drink, and they chatted about his trip.
Emily felt his eyes on her several times, and finally she had the nerve to look up and meet his gaze. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Emily’s heart raced. Then Andrew reminded her again of her turn, and she looked down at her cards. She felt flushed and her palms were sweaty. Unable to concentrate, she lost the game, and she and Andrew joined the others in conversation.
They began to plan their trip into Williamsburg. Everyone was excited at the prospect, for a play was planned at the theater, and a ball would follow at the Governor’s Palace.
David turned to Joanna. “Not too much excitement for you, my dear,” he scolded gently.
“I shall be careful, David. Let me have some fun, too!” she pouted and laughed.
“What is going on here?” Jonathon demanded. Then, for the first time looking closely at what Joanna was sewing, the light dawned and he rose and embraced his sister.
“Joanna!” He laughed and turning, he pumped David’s arm. He was beaming at them both. “How wonderful!” He grinned from one to the other. Sitting back down, he grinned at them again, then struck with a thought, his grin faded to astonishment and he looked over at Emily. His eyes searched hers; she lowered them and blushed.
The others had continued talking and missed the silent exchange. Jonathon was quiet for the rest of the evening.
• • •
Emily stirred in her sleep. Slowly coming awake, she was aware of Jonathon before she opened her eyes. He was standing next to her bed gazing down at her. She raised her eyes to his silently. A moment passed.
“Did you come to fling more accusations?” she asked bitterly.
“No.”
She sat up and pulled the blanket around herself. “As you can see, I am alone!” she hurled at him.
He looked down at his hands. The silence surrounded them like a mist. Slowly, he sat on the bed.
“Did you come to ease your lust then? Do you think I am that wanton?” she demanded.
“Well, I am not the one who is going to marry someone else, am I?” he whispered hoarsely. “And just who will be the father of your firstborn?”
Emily slapped his face.
“Not you!” she seethed. “If that is what concerns you, Jonathon, put your mind at ease. I do not carry your child. Now, may I get some rest?”
She flopped back on the pillows and rolled over with her back to him. She heard the door close, and her body was racked with sobs.
• • •
Emily was in her room and, with Joanna’s help, was deciding what to pack for Williamsburg. They chatted excitedly, holding up gowns, matching ribbons and shoes, and picking out toiletries. Dulcie entered and informed Emily that Phillip was downstairs. The excitement drained from her face, and she looked at Joanna.
“Do you want me to come along?” Joanna asked.
“No, it is time I tell him,” Emily replied.
Phillip rose when Emily entered the parlor carrying her cloak.
“Let us take a stroll, Phillip,” she suggested.
He helped her with her cloak and, after adjusting it, placed his hands on her shoulders. Emily moved away, slipping on her gloves. Phillip offered her his arm, and they walked together out into the garden. The day was mild, the sun warm on Emily’s face. They walked in silence for a bit, and Emily sat down on a stone bench. Sitting beside her, Phillip took her hand and looked into her eyes. Emily noted that, despite the intensity of his gaze, it had none of the effect that a similar gaze from Jonathon would elicit.
“I spoke to Jonathon,” he said.
“He told me.”
“He wanted me to think about this for a few days. But I can wait no longer; I intend to press him for an answer today. I want us to be together, Emily,” he said as he slipped an arm around her and drew her to him. Emily pushed away.
“Phillip, please. I have something to say.”
He looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
“I do not know what I have done to mislead you. I am truly sorry if I have done so. You are a dear friend, Phillip, but—”
“But you have changed your mind,” he finished for her.
“There was never anything to change. I tried to tell you so right away, but you stopped me. Then, taking my silence as consent, you went to Jonathon. Phillip, I cannot marry you. I am so sorry to hurt you like this.” Tears glistened in Emily’s eyes.
“I . . . I do not know what to say.”
They sat in awkward silence. Finally, Phillip stood. “I am sorry for the embarrassment, Emily. I hope you will forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Phillip. I am honored that you asked me,” she replied earnestly.
He looked down at her. “Since I have no further need to be here, I shall take my leave.”
“You are always welcome here, Phillip.”
He bowed over her hand, turned, and left.
Emily sat lost in thought as the afternoon shadows gathered. She pitied Phillip; she knew what it was to burn inside with love for someone who did not return it.