The girl shrugged and shifted from one foot to the other. Emma waited for more of a response, but Corinne remained stubbornly silent.
A flash of heat rose in Emma’s chest. “Why do you dislike me so much? I’ve never done anything to you. All I wanted was to get to know my family.”
Corinne’s head jerked up. “We’re not your family.” The furious words erupted from her. “Papa is my father. Marianne is my sister. The job at the university should have been mine too.” Corinne’s cheeks blazed red and her body shook.
Emma stiffened at the sheer force of Corinne’s anger. But she held her ground, determined to get the animosity out in the open once and for all. “I see,” she said slowly. “You feel threatened by me. That I might take something that belongs to you.”
“You’ve already done that.” Corinne stalked across the room to stare out the front window. “Papa caters to you, Marianne dotes on you, and I’m forgotten. Nobody cares how I feel.”
Though the girl was exaggerating, her hurt was real. Hurt that had started, Emma suspected, long before she ever showed up. Yet Emma had to acknowledge that while she’d been trying to win Randall’s favor, she’d never taken the time to consider Corinne’s point of view. Never thought that Corinne might be vying for his attention too. Or that perhaps she suffered from feeling less important.
A wave of sympathy rose, replacing the momentary anger. “I’m sorry, Corinne. I had no idea. I suppose I’ve been a trifle selfish. And, to be honest, somewhat jealous too.”
Corinne whirled around. “Jealous? Of who?”
“Of you . . . and Marianne. You got to grow up with a mother and a father—my father—while I believed myself to be an orphan. All my life, I longed for the type of family you have.” She smiled sadly. “Perhaps I’ve been trying too hard, hoping that one day I might belong—like you.”
Corinne’s mouth fell open. She blinked several times but said nothing.
Emma took a hesitant step toward her sister. What was done was done, and in truth, Emma didn’t really want her job back anyway. She had nothing to lose by being generous. “Now that I’m no longer working at the university, perhaps you can talk to your father about getting the position. If he hired me on a trial basis, I don’t see why he wouldn’t give you the same chance.”
A hardness returned to Corinne’s features. “He won’t after you tell him what I did. That I’m responsible for your getting fired.” She flung out her hand in the direction of the door. “I’m sure you can’t wait to run over and tell him.”
Emma remained still. She’d assumed that Randall had sent Corinne over to confess. If her father didn’t know, what had prompted this visit? “What made you come here today, Corinne?”
She stared at the floor. “Papa says if we wrong someone, we have to admit our mistake and make amends.”
“But he didn’t make you come. And I’m having a hard time believing you had a sudden attack of conscience. What’s the real reason?”
Corinne’s bottom lip trembled. “It’s Will.” The words rushed out, and moisture glistened in her eyes. “He figured it out and”— she gulped in some air—“he won’t even speak to me now.” Tears broke loose and slid down her cheeks.
Emma took her by the arm and guided her to the sofa. She handed the girl a handkerchief and waited while she sobbed. Emma sighed, and not knowing what else to do, bowed her head. “Lord, I ask for your guidance and wisdom. Corinne needs your help to fix this situation, to atone for her mistakes. Please show her the best way to do that. And help me to understand and forgive my sister. Amen.” Then she reached out and took one of Corinne’s hands. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s how we handle them that shows our true character.”
Corinne blew her nose. “I-I’m sorry for ruining your work and getting you fired.”
An actual apology. Could Emma be making a tiny bit of progress? “It’s all right, Corinne. I forgive you.”
The girl’s head snapped up. “You do?”
Emma nodded. “I don’t think I’m meant to be a typist anyway. I tried so hard to do a good job, but for the life of me, I couldn’t seem to get through one letter without making a hundred errors.”
Corinne’s lips twitched. “Will said you wasted a lot of paper.”
“More than a lot.” Emma laughed. “You’re welcome to take the position, if your father agrees.”
For the first time, Corinne’s features relaxed. “You’re not going to tell Papa?”
Emma held Corinne’s hopeful gaze. “From what I understand, being a tattletale is a cardinal sin among siblings, is it not? We sisters have to stick together.”
“I-I don’t know what to say . . . except thank you.” Corinne squeezed Emma’s hand.
Emma swallowed a rise of emotion. “You’re welcome.” She paused. “And if you think it would help, I could talk to Will. Tell him that you’re truly sorry and that you apologized to me.”
Hope fluttered over the girl’s face. “You would do that after I’ve been so horrible to you?”
“Of course I will. If you’ll do something for me.”
A shadow of suspicion flashed over Corinne’s features. “What is it?”
“Will you help me with Marianne’s exercises when you’re able? That way all three of us can get to know each other better.” Emma held her breath. She hoped Corinne would want to spend time with her, not feel forced out of some guilty sense of obligation.
“What if I say no?” Her chin jutted out.
“Then I’d be disappointed. But I’ll still talk to Will and put the poor man out of his misery.”
A flicker of hope sparked in Corinne’s brown eyes. “You think he’s miserable?”
“I’d bet my last shilling.” Emma grinned. “After all, he’s quite smitten with you, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Corinne let out a long breath and gave a tentative smile. “Maybe having an older sister won’t be such a hardship after all.”
CHAPTER 22
MID-JULY 1919
The next few weeks passed by in a blur. Emma threw all her energies into helping to organize the hospital fundraiser, keeping so busy that she barely had time for Marianne’s exercises.
Vera proved to be an invaluable resource with all her charitable connections and her experience over the years in arranging many types of fundraisers. She was able to get the permits signed, the vendors in place, and the volunteers to help distribute the event flyers. Emma worked on obtaining the entertainment for the children, hiring clowns, ordering prizes and balloons, and arranging for rides and games. The rest of the committee filled in the gaps. The date was coming up soon, and they all prayed the weather would be good, since everything was to be set up outdoors on the hospital grounds.
The one thing that marred this blissful time for Emma was that Jonathan seemed even more preoccupied than she. With what, she wasn’t certain, but she thought he was spending a lot of time with Reggie. Although she was glad he’d found such a good friend, part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding her. Did he regret kissing her after their date? Had he come to the realization that he’d rather just remain good friends and was too scared to tell her?
When she asked him about his noticeable absence, he assured her everything was fine, that he and Reggie were just busy working on a project.
Emma didn’t know what to think. Or what to believe. What kind of mysterious project could the two of them be working on?
Finally, on the morning of the fundraiser, Emma rose early and went to find Jonathan. He knew how much this day meant to her and had promised to attend. She wanted to make sure he hadn’t forgotten or made other plans.
Emma found him tending the garden, picking beans and putting them into a large basket, his shirt-sleeves rolled up past his elbows. She stared at the dark hairs on his forearms as he worked, the tanned skin of his neck, the taut pull of his shirt across his shoulders. Her heart pulsed to life in her chest as memories of being held in those arms came roaring back, and sh
e realized how much she’d missed him.
She cleared her throat. “You’re at it early this morning.” For some reason, her voice sounded shaky.
He turned with a grin and pushed his cap back on his forehead. “It’s a big day, or so I’ve been told. I thought I’d get my chores out of the way so I can spend as much time at the fundraiser as possible.”
Under his affectionate gaze, the air in her lungs grew shallow. “Oh good,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “You haven’t forgotten.”
His brow furrowed. “Why would you think that?”
She toed a pinecone on the grass. “You’ve been so busy lately, I thought it might have slipped your mind. Reggie must be keeping you very entertained.”
“I told you he’s been helping me with something, which I want to tell you all about very soon.” He stepped out from the rows of vegetables. “It seems we’ve both been caught up with our own . . . interests.”
“True enough. I’ll be glad for a rest once this day is over.”
Jonathan set the basket on the ground and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. The temperature was already quite warm, and Emma hoped the heat wouldn’t deter the guests from enjoying the day.
He moved closer to her and her pulse sprinted, making her a little light-headed. Would he touch her? Maybe kiss her again? It seemed so long since they’d shared any such closeness.
“I’ve missed you,” he said huskily. “Is everything still going well with your father and your sisters?”
The question seemed laced with a meaning Emma didn’t understand. Wasn’t he happy that she’d broken through their reserve, that she’d found some semblance of acceptance in the Moore household? Or did he resent all the time she’d been spending with them? “Things are going very well,” she said. “Even Vera has been nice to me.”
Jonathan nodded. “I’m glad you’re so happy, Em.”
But to Emma’s ears, he didn’t sound glad. Not at all. “Is something wrong, Jonathan?”
A slight breeze stirred the fabric of his shirt. He watched her with an enigmatic expression. “I’ve been thinking that the summer is slipping away. It will soon be time to book my passage home.” He picked up the basket and started across the lawn.
A wave of disappointment rolled in her chest as she watched him retreat. Despite their kiss, their unspoken feelings, nothing had really changed. He still intended to leave her. Why had she ever imagined he might choose her instead?
She followed him to the rear door. “Is there no way I can convince you to stay?” she asked. Her heart raced at the boldness of her request. She knew how much she was asking of him, but if he truly cared for her, wouldn’t he be willing to make a sacrifice to be with her?
He stopped and slowly turned around. “I have to go back, Em. You know that. I’ve already paid a good portion of my tuition. And then there’s Aunt Trudy to consider.”
Emma’s legs shook. She twisted her hands together, searching for the words to sway him. “Trudy managed without you all the time you were at war. I’m sure she’ll be fine now. And you could go to school here. You said Reggie is enrolled at the university. Why couldn’t you do the same?” Her words tumbled out, falling over each other in her haste. “Unless . . .”
She bit her lip. Her stomach churned on a roll of nausea. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having this morning. But somehow once it got started, there seemed no way to stop it. “Unless I’ve misread the change in our relationship?”
Jonathan set the basket down and reached for her hand. “You haven’t.”
She gripped his fingers hard, a bud of hope blooming. “Then stay. Give us the chance to see what happens.”
He studied her with an intensity that unnerved her while his thumbs caressed her palms. “Marry me, Emmaline. Come back to England and be my wife. We could have a great life there.”
She froze, every vertebra in her back stiffening. They’d had one date, one kiss—and now he was talking marriage?
He stood there in the bright morning sun, his eyes the color of melted chocolate, watching her with such hope on his face that she couldn’t breathe.
“Jonathan, I . . . I don’t know what to say.” A hard ball of emotion lodged in her chest. Oh, how she wished the circumstances were different. That she could joyfully accept his offer and that he would sweep her into his arms with another breath-stealing kiss. But it was far too soon in their newly budding romance to consider such a huge step.
She let out a long breath. “I can’t leave right now. Not when I’m finally getting somewhere with my family.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. To make sense of this craziness. Perhaps he’d tell her it was all a joke. They’d have a good laugh and everything would be fine between them again.
But a shutter came down over his features, and he dropped her hand. “You can’t leave and I can’t stay. England is my home, Emma. Do you really expect me to give up Oxford when I’ve finally achieved my goal?”
She took a step back, stunned by the resentment that laced his words. Her voice quavered. “Aren’t you asking me to do the same? To give up the chance to have a real relationship with my father and sisters?”
If he cared about her, how could he ask that of her? And if he wanted to marry her, how could he think of leaving her behind?
Yet hadn’t she known all along that he would?
He looked at her with such sorrow that she couldn’t stand it.
She squeezed her hands into fists, fighting against the sting of tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. Not this time. “I have to go now or I’ll be late.”
Then she turned and strode around to the front of the house before a single tear could fall.
Two hours later, Jonathan made his way to the children’s hospital, dread dogging his steps. The event he’d looked forward to because it meant so much to Emma now held little appeal. Not after their fight earlier, which had forced him to face the reality that their relationship was doomed.
What on earth had made him blurt out a marriage proposal like that? He was never impulsive or spontaneous, and he knew it was far too soon to suggest such a thing. Emma had just started to think of him as a possible suitor. Now he’d gone and ruined every chance of her returning to England with him.
“You could go to school here. You said Reggie is enrolled at the university. Why couldn’t you do the same?” Emma’s plea had tugged at his heartstrings. How he’d wanted to give in, but if he stayed under those conditions, he would forever come second to Randall Moore and Emma’s sisters.
For the past three weeks, Emma had been so busy arranging this fundraiser for her father, she’d scarcely had two minutes to spend with Jonathan. He’d thought they’d made such headway with their relationship after their date, after that kiss . . . a kiss that had sent him soaring to the highest peaks of ecstasy and made him believe for the first time that Emma might love him enough to go back with him.
“I can’t leave right now. Not when I’m finally getting somewhere with my family.”
Yet Emma’s cavalier dismissal of Jonathan’s proposal came as a cruel reminder that he could never overcome the lure of her new family.
Jonathan kicked a pebble onto the grass. What sort of heel was he to be jealous of Emma’s relationship with Randall? Of course he was happy for her—it was just that she always gave one hundred percent to whatever she decided to focus on. And right now, that was her father. Which left no room at all for Jonathan or romance, let alone marriage.
Jonathan looked up from the sidewalk to see hundreds of gaily colored balloons bobbing in the morning breeze. The sound of children’s laughter drifted over to him, such a happy, wholesome sound that it lifted the chains around his battered heart.
This day would bring so much joy to the little ones, and it was all because of Emma. Despite his frustration, a wave of pride rose inside him. Emma was meant for greatness. Who was he to stand in her way?
When Jonathan rounded the corner to the hospital property,
the sight there took his breath away. Among the rows of booths, a vibrant array of clowns colored the grounds. Throngs of children of all shapes and sizes milled about, some in wheelchairs or on crutches. Some had shaved heads after surgery, and most were in pajamas, but all sported ear-to-ear grins. The more energetic ones ran and played, balloons trailing out behind them, hands glued to gigantic lollipops.
His chest swelled. Emma had done a brilliant job in helping to arrange this. Her father would surely have to acknowledge her now. Jonathan tried hard to be happy about that—that her dreams were beginning to come true. As much as he couldn’t give up Oxford, Emma felt the same way about her family. How could he resent her for that?
Jonathan moved into the crowd, his spirits rising on the waves of pure joy that surrounded him. In the midst of all the chaos, he spotted Emma, wearing a smile so big he could see it from across the lawn. At least their argument hadn’t ruined the day for her.
He waded through the people, intent on reaching her. He’d promised to help her and no matter how hurt he was he wouldn’t go back on his word.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Giles Wainwright snapping pictures of a group of children on the pony ride. Immediately, Jonathan’s hackles went up as his protective instincts kicked in. He’d keep a close watch on this character to make sure he didn’t bother Emma. The man had ruined Corinne’s graduation. Jonathan wouldn’t allow him to do the same at this event.
At last, he made it to Emma’s side. With considerable effort, he pushed his hurt and disappointment down deep and forced a smile. “Congratulations, Em. You’ve done a marvelous job.”
Her startled gaze met his, then skittered away. “Thank you. But we’ve already hit a few snags.”
“Anything I can do?”
Her brows rose. “You’d help me after our . . . disagreement?”
“Yes, Emma,” he said in a measured tone. “I promised to help, so here I am. Now, what needs fixing?”
“There’s a problem at the Ring-the-Bell game. The bell’s stuck, which is making for some very frustrated players.”
The Highest of Hopes Page 20