by Abby Ayles
Charles shook his head.
“Quite sure,” he said. “You see, the items were never recovered, even after their employment was terminated.”
Francis nodded slowly.
“Such a terrible shame,” he said.
“Indeed,” Charles said. “We welcomed them as part of the family. We truly trusted them implicitly. And they repaid our kindness and affection with theft and betrayal.”
He sighed. “Alice and Jane were, of course, devastated, but we simply could not abide by thieves and liars.”
“Well, not all people are so untrustworthy,” Francis said, the understanding of the implications beginning to set in.
“No, certainly not,” Charles said with a smirk. “However, that is a risk we are not willing to take again. Nor, my friend, should you. After all, what else can be expected when one is dealing with one of those backward country people who do not interact with the ton, or polite society, very often?”
Francis felt anger beginning to well inside him.
“Surely you are not suggesting that because they are less fortunate, all of them would steal from their employers,” he said.
Charles pretended to think for a moment. Francis had to resist the urge to shake the smug expression off his friend’s face.
“I suppose that is exactly what I am saying,” Charles said, his smirk widening.
Francis stopped his horse altogether and glowered at his friend.
He understood that Charles did not know Emma, but the implication that he did not need to get to know her to feel certain that she was as untrustworthy as his former staff members had been infuriated him.
Emma had integrity, and she was honest, sometimes to a fault. His friend had no business implying that she was anything to the contrary.
“I must say that our governess would never do such a thing,” he said, jumping at once to Emma’s defense.
Charles laughed heartily.
“Of course, of course,” he said. “No one ever thinks someone capable of such atrocities, until such atrocities are committed. Just wait, you will see.”
“I dare say that I will not,” Francis said, his jaw tightening. “Miss Baker is an upstanding young woman and has proven to be nothing but an asset to our household.”
This made Charles laugh harder still, so much so that he nearly fell off his horse.
“Francis, my friend, are you infatuated with this young woman?” he asked.
Rage flared through Francis, and he narrowed his eyes pointedly at Charles.
“I refuse to dignify that with a response,” he said.
Charles dabbed at his eyes and the water that was forming in the corners of them with his laughing fit.
“Well, we can hope that you are not,” he said, choking on more laughter. “However, if you are, you risk jeopardizing your future.”
Francis continued glaring at the man, unable to speak.
“Fraternizing with the help will make it that much harder whenever you must marry someone respectable,” Charles continued, as though Francis had spoken.
Francis wanted to leap from his horse and drag Charles off his. It was bad enough that he was indirectly accusing Emma of being a thief. Now that he was taunting her respectability, Francis was fast losing control of his temper.
“I beg your pardon, Charles,” Francis growled. “But Miss Baker is quite respectable, despite your blind assessment of her.”
This sent Charles into another fit of laughter.
“Yes, yes, of course, she is,” Charles said. “I am certain that you are not the only gentleman to know exactly how respectable she is.”
Hands trembling, Francis spurred his horse into action and rode away quickly, hearing the continued sounds of Charles’s laughter chasing him.
He rode hard and fast, and without looking back. He knew that if he even spared a single glance back, even to see if the man was following him, he would very likely take a swing at him.
How dare he presume to say such terrible, crude things about Emma? He did not know her, for which Francis was acutely grateful. The only thing worse than the things his so-called friend was saying would have been for him to say them after meeting Emma.
Before Francis realized it, the sun had dipped low in the sky. He had been riding for hours, and he was still seething about his conversation with Charles. However, he had come to realize something.
He could not afford to be getting so angry about things that related to Emma. If he continued to make scenes such as the one he had made with Charles, what began as a crude joke made by one man might become rumors spread among many.
Emma might earn a reputation that she did not deserve. Moreover, people might begin to get the idea that he was in love with, and wishing to marry, his governess. Emma herself might get that idea, and that was unacceptable.
As Francis reluctantly rode back to his friend’s house, he considered Emma’s employment with him. She truly had been nothing but exceptional thus far, and the children absolutely adored her.
But Francis was beginning to see now that it might, in fact, be best to let her go. Of course, he had no wish to see her leave, but he was beginning to believe that it would be best for all of them.
Francis knew that he could not simply let her go. He would never be able to forgive himself if he simply tossed her out after taking away her job.
He thought long and hard. The solution was simple enough.
Plenty of families within the ton would surely have need of a governess. He could contact a few of them and, of course, give Emma the highest of praise and commendation for her work for him.
Perhaps, he could even get her a better paying position with a family wealthier than he himself was. That, of course, would be ideal, and nothing less than Emma deserved.
And, it would solve all his current problems. She would not be sent away without work, but she would also not be there constantly tantalizing him with visions of a future that could never be.
He would at last be unable to continue his prying in her personal affairs. She could rest easy knowing that he would no longer be able to press her for information she was not ready to give. She would also be free from his constant melancholic state.
And, most importantly, he would not need to continue worrying about hurting her whenever he did marry Rosaline, which he knew was an impending eventuality.
If he let Emma go, she could continue her life and be happy, and that was a kindness that Francis felt he owed to her. But, would it hurt her more to feel as though she was unwanted or inadequate?
Mind made up, Francis rode up to the stables and dismounted from his horse. He felt almost certain that he was making the right decision.
He knew that the children would certainly be hurt, but Francis knew that the best option was to find Emma another family to work for and then let her go.
Chapter 15
Emma was content to let Rosaline chat away happily as they traveled to the small house in the countryside where Marcus had been living.
It was a small house that she had purchased when Marcus first fell ill, because the doctor had said that fresh air did wonders sometimes in cases such as Marcus’s.
Emma smiled and nodded along with Rosaline’s excited chatter, but her mind was weighted with thoughts of Marcus all alone in the little house.
It was not that she did not wish to care for her brother. On the contrary; she wanted nothing more than to be there for Marcus and do everything she could to help him recover.
But Marcus did not want to risk her succumbing to consumption, as well. She, of course, had tried to insist that she be there caring for him, but Marcus had firmly declined. They would have lost everything if both of them had been too unwell to handle the house and the money.
However, she ensured that someone went to check on Marcus every day, and she checked in on him herself as often as possible, and, to this arrangement, her brother had agreed.
Marcus did well, managing on his own in the little
country house when he was feeling well enough. When he could not care for himself, Marcus was taken to an infirmary.
The finances spoke of many bouts where Marcus had needed infirmary care, so Emma was nervous about the state in which her brother might be when they arrived.
Emma was certainly happy to get to see her brother, especially after so long. However, she worried that the sudden visit might be too much for him if he was feeling worse again. She prayed that he was, indeed, feeling well enough and that the surprise of their visit would not exert him back into a weakened state.
Emma did not suppress her sigh of relief as the carriage pulled up in front of the house. There, on the porch, sat Marcus, reading a book. The weather was quite pleasant, and the sky was a clear, lovely blue, but Marcus rarely felt well enough to sit outdoors.
If he was there on the porch, then today was one of his better days.
As they got closer, Emma could see that Marcus looked a great deal better than he had in ages. Her heart squeezed as she noted how little that was actually saying.
He still looked very wan, and it appeared that he had lost more weight. However, his face appeared to have a bit of color, and when he lifted his head to see who had arrived, his eyes looked alert and clear.
When he saw Emma, a wide grin spread across his face, and he quickly rose from his chair. Another wave of relief swept over Emma, and her fear that their visit might be detrimental to him began to fade.
The carriage rolled slowly to a stop, and Emma dared to glance at Rosaline. Once more, Rosaline’s face utterly surprised Emma. Rosaline was looking at Marcus carefully, but her expression was not what Emma had expected.
Instead of appearing revolted or frightened, she looked curious and compassionate. There was no trace of any sort of pity or condescension. Emma thought again about how sweet Rosaline was, and how lucky she was to have the woman as a friend.
Before Emma had both her feet on the ground, Rosaline had stridden over to where Marcus stood. She gave Marcus a brief curtsey, but she was standing so close to him that Emma briefly thought she might embrace him.
“Good day, Mr. Baker,” Rosaline said, smiling brightly. “My name is Rosaline Brentwood, and it is truly a pleasure to meet you.”
Emma hid a smile behind her hand. Rosaline certainly had not been afraid to promptly introduce herself to Marcus, and Emma watched the interaction, bemused.
Marcus took Rosaline’s hand and kissed it, bowing to her.
“It is a pleasure, Miss Brentwood,” Marcus said. “But I must beg your pardon for a moment. There is another lady right there, and I believe a proper greeting to her is long overdue.”
Instead of blushing or shuffling out of the way in silence, Rosaline walked over to Emma and grabbed her hand, and led her to where her brother stood.
Marcus immediately folded Emma into a firm embrace. Emma laughed and sobbed, only then aware of how happy she was to see her brother.
“Hello, Emma,” Marcus said, breaking the embrace to look at her. Emma was more thrilled still to hear that his voice, though still weak, sounded light and cheerful. “How is my favorite sister?”
Emma laughed.
“I do not know,” Emma said, teasing. “Should I go find her and ask her?”
Rosaline laughed right along with their affectionate joke, catching onto it at once.
“Please, won’t you ladies come inside?” Marcus said.
“We would be delighted,” Rosaline said before Emma could answer.
Marcus looked at Rosaline and smiled. It was a sight that Emma greatly enjoyed seeing. Marcus then held out his arm for Rosaline to take, and he escorted the two women inside.
Marcus pulled out a chair for Rosaline, then gestured to Emma at a long bench seat. Once Emma had seated herself, Marcus sat down beside her and took her hand.
“It is good to see you,” he said.
“Likewise, Marcus,” Emma said, her eyes shining.
Rosaline cleared her throat in an exaggerated fashion.
Marcus laughed joyfully.
“And, of course, it is wonderful that you are here, as well, Miss Brentwood,” Marcus said.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Baker,” Rosaline said, smiling sweetly.
Emma sat and watched the exchange silently. It seemed that their presence was indeed lifting Marcus’s spirits. Her brother seemed particularly taken with Rosaline, and Emma was happy to sit back and let the two chat. She simply enjoyed being in her brother’s company once more and seeing his mood brighten.
“Tell me,” Marcus said. “How did the two of you meet?”
Emma opened her mouth to answer him, but Rosaline clapped her hands together and smiled.
“We met through my would-be husband and Emma’s employer,” Rosaline said. “I have every intention of marrying her to him in my stead.”
Marcus laughed. The sound was a mixture of confusion and amusement at her bold declaration.
“Now, why would you ever wish to do that?” he asked.
Rosaline sighed.
“Well, firstly, I see Lord Ashfield as my own brother,” she said. “He was married to my cousin, after all. How could I ever see him as anything else?”
Marcus looked at her thoughtfully.
“Yes, I could see how that might seem a bit strange to you,” he said.
Rosaline nodded.
“I, for one, would much prefer to marry for love, not for duty,” she said wistfully. “However, my uncle does not seem to understand that. Or, at least, he does not care.”
Emma saw the fleeting sadness on her friend’s face, and it tugged at her heart. She could not imagine being forced to marry simply to ensure some business deal, even though the thought that she might end up having to marry a wealthy man to regain control of her finances had come to mind more than once in the past few months.
“Besides,” Rosaline continued. “As it happens, I fancy someone else.”
“Oh?” Marcus said, his bemusement growing. “And who might the lucky suitor be?”
Rosaline blushed. She looked up at Marcus with a demure smile.
“A lady does not discuss her romantic intentions, Mr. Baker,” she said.
Marcus laughed.
“Well, then, may I simply say that he should consider himself a very lucky man,” he said.
Rosaline’s blush deepened, and she laughed.
“I shall let him know that you said so,” she said.
Marcus then turned to Emma.
“Well, how do you feel about this situation?” he asked. “It is, after all, your wedding Miss Brentwood is trying to arrange.”
It was Emma’s turn to blush.
“I do like Lord Ashfield,” she said. “But there is no way it would ever work.”
Marcus furrowed his brow.
“Why not?” he asked. “I personally believe that you would make quite the catch.”
Emma laughed and waved her hand at her brother.
“Oh, you,” she said. Then, she sighed. “Even if that were true, Rosaline’s uncle has every intention of marrying her to him.”
“And who is he to have any say in someone else’s life?” Marcus asked.
“A very powerful businessman,” Emma said. “And an earl, at that. He has all the power necessary to make life quite difficult for Francis if he should try to marry anyone but Rosaline. After all, he controls all of the ships that transport Lord Ashfield’s business’s goods.”
Marcus frowned, thinking silently for several moments.
“I believe that there might be something we could do about that,” he said.
Emma gave him a puzzled look.
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked.
“Before Father died, we owned several ships,” he said. “We could always offer those to him to help him distribute his products. He could quite possibly end up doing better than he is now. Given that he is willing to be patient and build up the number over time, of course.”
Emma stared at Marcus, dumbfounded.
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“Ships?” she asked. “That is not possible. We have been through every bit of Father’s money and finances, and no ships have ever turned up. Are you certain?”
Marcus frowned again.
“Of course, I am certain. Father and I talked about the ships just before he died, on many occasions. Mr. Rowley would have all the records about them.”