The Highest of Hopes

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The Highest of Hopes Page 8

by Susan Anne Mason


  She tilted her head, the feather from her hat almost tickling his chin. “My father came to see me yesterday. For the most part, the visit went well. Although he wants me to pretend to be his niece in order to protect his political reputation.”

  Jonathan frowned. “I don’t like it, Em.” It was bad enough that Moore had rejected her as an infant. Now he wanted to pass Emma off as his niece?

  “I’m not wild about it either, but don’t worry, I plan to wear him down. Sooner or later, once he realizes I’m here to stay, he’ll have no choice but to acknowledge me as his daughter.”

  Barbs of pain spread through Jonathan’s body. How he wished she weren’t so set on staying in this country. “So, after your talk, he offered you a job?”

  “Not right away. I came up with the idea this morning. What better way to be close to my father and learn about his career than to work with him?”

  They turned a corner onto the next block.

  “Let me guess. You went over unannounced?”

  “I did.” She seemed completely unapologetic about it. “And when I told him my idea, he thought about it for a few minutes and then questioned me about my qualifications.”

  He glanced over at her as he guided her around a large crack in the sidewalk. “You have no experience as a secretary.” Surely, she hadn’t fibbed about that.

  “No, but Randall placed great value on my work as Grandad’s bookkeeper. He said it gave me the skills necessary to work in an office. Once I told him I’d take some secretarial courses, he agreed to give me a try.”

  “Why would he do that? Wouldn’t he want someone more experienced?” A niggle of suspicion wound through Jonathan’s chest. It didn’t make sense for the man to hire someone without the proper credentials. Was it his way of controlling Emma’s actions?

  “Why, to get closer to me, silly.” She laughed again. “And if it doesn’t suit either of us, we’ve agreed to let the other know.”

  “I suppose it makes sense when you look at it that way.” Jonathan shook his head, still not completely convinced. “Randall’s attitude must have changed quite a bit since our first meeting.”

  She grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I think he’s coming around to the idea of another daughter. And that’s not all. He’s invited us both for dinner tonight with his family. Isn’t that wonderful? I’ll get to spend more time with my sisters.”

  The excitement on her face worried Jonathan. Emma gave away her heart so freely. He feared she was doomed to have it crushed again tonight.

  “I’m glad you’re so enthused, Em. But you should prepare for your stepmother and your sisters to be less accepting. It could be somewhat tense at the dinner table.”

  “There you go again with your gloomy predictions. I, on the other hand, choose to believe that my charming personality will win them over before dessert is served.”

  When she looked up at him and winked, it took all his willpower not to kiss her.

  Instead, he laughed. “They have no idea what they’re in for, Emma love. None whatsoever. But if anyone can captivate them, I’m sure it’s you.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Despite her boasting to Jonathan, Emma found herself beset by a severe case of the jitters as she got ready for dinner with her father’s family.

  What if her sisters despised her? What if her stepmother refused to speak to her? What if they swayed her father’s opinion and made him rescind his offer of employment?

  Seated at the vanity in her bedroom, she brushed her hair with vigorous strokes and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “That’s enough of that, Emmaline Moore. You have never backed away from a challenge, and you’re not going to now. You will win them all over, if not with your charm, then with the gifts you’re bringing.”

  Thankfully, she’d fit in some shopping that morning after leaving her father’s office. With the gifts now wrapped and ready to go, Emma turned to her closet, still undecided as to what to wear. She wanted to look nice, yet not overly fancy. At last, she chose her new purple brocade with a lace bodice.

  She’d just finished fastening a string of pearls at her neck when a knock sounded on her door.

  “May I come in, Emma?” her landlady called from the hall.

  “Of course, Mrs. C.”

  The woman poked her head around the door. “Jonathan is waiting downstairs for you, dear.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t you look lovely. That shade of mauve looks wonderful on you.”

  “Thank you. I hope my fa—uncle thinks so too.”

  “How could he not?” Mrs. C. smiled as she came into the room. “I’m so glad you’re going to get the chance to visit with his family.”

  Emma bit her lip and twisted a curl around one finger, sudden insecurities taunting her. “What if they don’t like me?”

  Mrs. C. draped a comforting arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Just be yourself and they won’t be able to help but fall in love with you.” She squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, now. That young man of yours is waiting—and looking mighty dapper, I might add.”

  Emma’s pulse fluttered, imagining Jonathan in a suit and tie. He always could turn every girl’s head when he entered a room. Like the time he’d arrived at her graduation, dressed to the nines, with a bouquet of flowers for her. All her friends had practically swooned at the sight of him.

  She lifted a quiet prayer of thanks that he would be with her tonight. His presence would give her confidence and keep her calm. With one last look in the mirror, she straightened. “You’re right, Mrs. C. I need to believe in myself and trust in the talents God gave me.” And hopefully use them to impress her father and his family.

  After pinning on a small feathered hat, she grabbed the jacket that matched her dress, her handbag, and the gifts, and descended the stairs to the main level.

  Jonathan appeared in the foyer as soon as her foot hit the tile. His smile froze, and he simply stared. “You look beautiful, Em.”

  For no good reason, heat scorched her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Jonathan had complimented her many times in the past. But why did it feel different this time? “Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself.”

  And he did. His crisp white shirt stood out against the dark wool of his suit. But it was the way he’d parted his brown hair on the side and slicked it back from his forehead with pomade that made him look so handsome.

  He set his bowler hat on the hall table and came toward her. “Let me help you with your wrap.” Before she could utter a word, he took it from her and held it out.

  Emma placed her bags on the hall bench and allowed him to help her into the jacket. He tugged it up over her shoulders, then in a deliberate move, lifted her hair and gently pulled it free from the collar. As he settled her curls over her shoulder, his hand brushed her neck.

  A cascade of tingles shot through her body. The air seemed to knot in her lungs, making breathing a chore.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She could only nod, since her tongue refused to cooperate. Clearly, she was nervous about the dinner tonight or she wouldn’t be reacting so strangely to her friend.

  Jonathan put on his hat and held out his arm for her. “Your taxi awaits, m’lady.”

  He gave her a silly grin, and she laughed, easing the tension in her muscles.

  She gave a mock curtsy and took his arm. “Why, thank you, kind sir. Do lead on.”

  Just like that, everything went back to normal between them.

  Twenty minutes later, Jonathan helped her alight from the taxi in front of her father’s house. This time when Emma knocked at the door, the housekeeper greeted them as proper guests.

  “Good evening, Miss Moore, Mr. Rowe. Please come in.”

  “Thank you.” Emma stepped into the vestibule.

  The woman pointed to Emma’s shopping bags. “May I take those for you?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll bring them with me.”

  “Very well. Right this way, then.”

  Emma expected the woman to usher
them into the parlor. Instead, she led them farther down the hall, through a sitting room to a set of French doors that led outside.

  “The family are having cocktails on the terrace. Follow me.” The woman preceded them onto a back verandah that overlooked a well-manicured lawn and garden. Nothing as marvelous as the gardens back in England, but respectable just the same.

  The family sat around a long wrought-iron table. All heads swiveled in her and Jonathan’s direction.

  “Miss Moore and Mr. Rowe, sir,” the housekeeper announced, then slipped back inside the house.

  Right away, Randall rose from his chair. “Emmaline, Jonathan. Welcome.”

  Emma swallowed and pasted a smile on her face. At least her father seemed happy to see her this time. “Hello, everyone. It’s lovely to see you again.”

  The faces were a blur at first, but gradually they came into focus. The sour face of her stepmother, a frowning Corinne, a younger male and an older gentleman Emma had never met before, and finally, the cheerful smile of the darling Marianne.

  “You know everyone except these gentlemen. This is my father-in-law, Harcourt Fenton.” The older man nodded. “And this young man is Will Munroe. He works with me at the university.”

  Will smiled. “A pleasure, miss.”

  “Likewise. And this is my dear friend, Jonathan.”

  Jonathan stepped over to the table and shook each man’s hand, engaging them in small talk.

  Vera offered them refreshments, which they politely refused. Emma wanted to keep a clear head about her.

  Marianne rolled her chair over, her face alight with excitement. “Emma, I’m so happy you’re here. You must sit beside me at dinner.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “The seating is already arranged, Marianne.” Vera rose from her chair, looking every inch a queen, from the icy tilt of her chin to the top of her upswept hair.

  The child’s smile faded. “Yes, Mama.”

  Emma bit her tongue to keep from protesting. Would Vera forbid Marianne from being friendly with her? Emma lifted her arms so the bags in her hands rustled. “I have gifts for everyone,” she announced cheerfully. She moved forward and crouched in front of Marianne, handing her one of the small parcels. “This one’s for you. I hope you like it.”

  “For me?” The girl’s hazel eyes lit up. “I love presents.”

  Swiftly, Emma rose, and before Vera could object, delivered a gift to Corinne, to her father, and lastly to Vera herself, who looked as if Emma were handing her a piece of rubbish.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said to Will and Mr. Fenton. “If I’d have known you’d be here I would have found something for you as well.”

  Mr. Fenton said nothing, but Will laughed. “No apology needed, Miss Moore.”

  “Please, everyone must call me Emma.”

  A squeal from Marianne had Emma whirling around. The girl held up the silver heart necklace she had bought her.

  “I love it, Emma. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Emma had gotten all the women similar necklaces and her father a pair of cuff links.

  Corinne opened her package and looked up without expression. “Thank you. It’s very nice.”

  Emma’s heart sank a little. She’d really hoped Corinne would start to like her.

  “The cuff links are beautiful.” Her father came forward with a smile. “You didn’t have to spend your money on us like this.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Emma turned to look at Vera.

  The woman had set her gift on the table and made no move to unwrap it.

  “Vera, darling, aren’t you going to open yours?” Randall, as he’d suggested Emma call him, held out the box to his wife.

  “Yes, of course.” She undid the wrapping and picked up the necklace. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

  Emma forced a smile at the false remark. “It’s not much, but I wanted to give you something to show you how happy I am to meet everyone. I hope as we become better acquainted, we can all become friends.” She held her breath, waiting for their reaction. Her palms grew damp at the stony stares from Vera and Corinne.

  Her father gave a tight smile. “I’m sure we all would like that.”

  “I feel like we’re already friends.” Marianne’s sweet voice warmed the cold place in Emma’s heart that yearned for acceptance and love.

  She bent down and kissed the girl’s cheek. “So do I.”

  A maid appeared on the terrace. “Dinner is ready.”

  “Thank you, Ellen,” Randall said, then turned to everyone else. “Shall we head inside?”

  Marianne grasped Emma’s hand. “Maybe after we eat, I could show you my bedroom.”

  “I’d love that.” Emma thanked God for the open spirit of this wonderful child, who by all rights could have been a dour, bitter person, being confined to a chair as she was. But Marianne was the exact opposite: cheerful, sweet, and kind.

  Looking down at the girl’s bright smile, Emma vowed to follow her younger sister’s example and use a sunny demeanor to win over the other members of her family.

  Corinne took a sip of water while casting a surreptitious glance across the dining room table at Emmaline. What made the woman think she could buy their affection with her silly trinkets? Did she not realize by now that Papa could buy hundreds of such necklaces?

  Will laughed at something Emmaline said. Corinne set down her goblet before she snapped the delicate stem in two. That trollop had been flirting with Will from the moment they sat down—a fact that seemed to bother the mysterious Jonathan almost as much as it did Corinne, judging from the scowl on his face. What exactly was the relationship between those two? Emma had said he was a dear friend, but Corinne doubted Jonathan viewed their relationship the same way. How could he not be lovelorn over such a beautiful creature?

  She tucked that nugget of information aside for the time being.

  At the head of the table, Papa rose and asked for everyone’s attention.

  Corinne’s stomach clenched. Something told her she wouldn’t like whatever he was about to say.

  “Thank you all for being here tonight and helping me welcome Emmaline and Jonathan. We’re glad you both could join us and thankful that you have overlooked our less-than-gracious first meeting.” Papa chuckled somewhat nervously, while everyone else squirmed in their seats. “Emmaline and I have been speaking, and we’ve decided that in order to get to know each other better, we need to spend more time in each other’s company. As luck would have it, the perfect solution came to mind.” He paused in a dramatic fashion, as he often did while giving his political speeches. “And so I have hired Emma to be my personal secretary at the university.”

  Corinne’s back muscles seized. This could not be happening. She’d been certain her father had been waiting until after her graduation in a few weeks to offer her the position. And she’d planned to accept wholeheartedly for two very good reasons. Not only would it give her more time with her father, but it would also afford her the opportunity to see Will every day. That alone would be worth doing a job that didn’t exactly excite her.

  But now, without even discussing the matter with any of them, Papa had blithely given the position to a stranger.

  A stranger masquerading as family.

  A murmur of surprise rippled around the table. Mama scowled, lines of disapproval creasing her forehead. Grandfather wore his thunderous expression, which proved he hadn’t been privy to Papa’s decision either. Though to be fair, as Papa’s campaign manager, her grandfather really had no say over Papa’s workplace—only over matters pertaining to politics. Corinne flicked her gaze to Will, who did not appear displeased, only somewhat bewildered.

  “What kind of office experience do you have, Miss Moore?” Grandfather asked in a tone that indicated he was not impressed.

  Emma turned to him, smiling. “Please call me Emma, sir. As I told my father . . .”

  Corinne coughed on a swallow of water. How dare she call Pap
a her father? She’d known him all of five minutes.

  “. . . I’ve never worked in an actual office before. But I have a good deal of experience working with the books in my grandad’s watch shop.”

  “Which I’m certain will make her easy to train in this position.” Papa turned his attention to Will. “That’s where you come in, Will. I am putting you in charge of Emmaline. I can think of no better mentor than you to show her the ropes.”

  Will’s cheeks turned bright red. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir. I’ll do my best.”

  Once again, Emma beamed a smile at Will.

  Corinne bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. She should be the one spending time with Will every day. Not this attractive viper with her sapphire eyes and raven hair, who would likely steal him away from her.

  Corinne tossed back the rest of her water in one gulp. Drastic measures were needed in order to get this woman out of their lives.

  She would have to come up with an idea very soon, before Emmaline ruined every plan Corinne had for the future.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jonathan studied the faces of the people around the long mahogany table, attempting to gauge their responses to Professor Moore’s announcement. Not one person, other than perhaps Marianne and Emma, seemed at all pleased with the news.

  Will Munroe appeared perplexed but not entirely hostile about the situation. Mr. Fenton, on the other hand, seemed ready to explode, as did Mrs. Moore. But curiously enough, it was Corinne, with her cheeks blazing red and her nostrils flaring, who seemed the most visibly upset. Why would she care who her father hired as his secretary?

  Will leaned his head toward Emma, who gave him a blinding smile.

  An instant clutch of jealousy hit Jonathan hard. He turned to hide his reaction, and his gaze landed on Corinne. She stared at Will and Emma with eyes that glittered with an unnamed emotion. A stir of recognition moved in Jonathan’s chest. Did Corinne have feelings for Will Munroe? Perhaps that was why she was unhappy about Emma working with Randall.

 

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