by Abby Ayles
Emma blinked, unsure of what to think.
Lucius had never made any mention of any ships. In fact, he had told her that there were no familial assets of any real value after her father died. That was one of the reasons that the finances were in such dire straits, after all.
“I do not understand,” she said. “How could we have missed ships?” She shook her head, baffled. “If there were, in fact, any ships, I could have sold them, and gotten more than enough money for us.
“Or, perhaps we could have made some sort of arrangement with a merchant. Allowing them to use the ships for a cut of their profits would have brought steady money in for the rest of our lives.”
Marcus nodded.
“That was Father’s intention,” he said. “Those ships were our guarantee for financial stability after he died.”
Emma bit her lip. Her mind was spinning.
“I do not understand how we could have not known about those ships,” she said, more to herself than to Marcus. He heard her remark, though, and took her hand.
“I am sure it was just a mistake, albeit a large one,” Marcus said. “Perhaps you could speak with Mr. Rowley about it tomorrow morning. Perhaps he just did not know about them. I do not know whether Father ever told him about them. I am certain, though, that he will find them and set things right.”
Emma nodded slowly, still trying to understand it all.
“Yes,” she echoed. “I am sure it was just a terrible mistake.”
She tried to smile and get back to the earlier light-hearted mood and conversation, but she could not get the news that Marcus had delivered out of her mind.
How could she not have known about the ships?
It was common for men to not discuss their business matters with women, even their own daughters, which would explain why Marcus knew of them and she did not. At the time of their father’s death, Marcus had been healthy, so there would have been no reason to involve Emma in the financial discussions.
However, surely her father would have made some mention of them to Lucius. He was, after all, the family’s solicitor, and would need to know of such matters.
And, even if he had not specifically mentioned them to Lucius, how could he have overlooked such a large asset?
She resolved to settle the matter with Lucius first thing in the morning, as Marcus had suggested. Perhaps the situation could be rectified, and she could finally secure their financial situation and get Marcus the best care possible to help get him well…
This mystery had to be solved at once.
Chapter 16
After his infuriating conversation with Charles, Francis decided to cut his visit short. He offered the excuse of a sudden pressing work matter and left three days earlier than he had planned.
He could not bear the thought of remaining under the same roof as the man who had said such derogatory things about Emma. However, his heart was heavy with the task he knew lay ahead of him.
Though he had decided it would be best to send Emma to another family, he had not fully reconciled with the idea.
As the carriage departed from Charles’s house, the children were beside themselves with excitement.
“I cannot wait to tell Miss Baker all about playing with Jane and Alice,” Rowena gushed.
Winston nodded briskly in agreement.
“I want to tell her all about the horses,” he said.
Francis listened to his children, trying not to wince.
“And the garden was spectacular,” Rowena continued, pronouncing the word carefully.
Francis looked at his daughter in amazement.
“That is a rather big word,” he said, smiling. “Wherever did you learn it?”
Rowena giggled.
“Miss Baker taught it to us, silly,” she said.
“She is the most intelligent woman I know,” Winston said.
Francis’s heart sank as the children talked, showing off all the things they had learned from Emma. He already had complete faith in Emma’s abilities, but listening to his children now, reciting their lessons and showing so much improvement in their schooling and social skills, he felt worse about his decision than ever.
“Father? Papa?” he heard Rowena say.
“Yes, love?” he asked, forcing a smile.
“I asked you if you are not as excited to see Miss Baker as we are,” she said.
Francis cleared his throat and sighed. How should he answer that question? Under other circumstances, he would be thrilled to see Emma again. But knowing that she would only be in his employ for a few weeks more was devastating.
He hardly knew how he would be able to look her in the eye for the rest of her tenure with him.
He realized that both his children had fallen silent and were looking at him expectantly, awaiting his response. He cleared his throat again.
“It will be a relief to be back home again,” he said carefully. “And I have no doubt that Miss Baker will be overjoyed at our return.”
To his relief, the children seemed satisfied with this answer. They went back to their conversation, bantering playfully back and forth about which of them was smarter and remembered more of the lessons Emma had taught them.
Francis did his best to drown them out for the rest of the ride. He could take no joy in his children’s excitement because he knew that he would soon be taking it away from them. And, from Emma, as well.
When they reached Blackburn Manor, Francis was surprised to find that Emma was gone.
For a moment, he found himself wondering if she had decided to quit. If she had, no matter her reason for it, he fully intended to write her a heartfelt letter of thanks for her service, as well as a glowing letter of recommendation for her, should she decide to seek employment elsewhere in the future.
The butler came down the stairs. Francis summoned the courage to ask a dreaded question.
“Where is Miss Baker?” he asked, hating himself for the slight quiver in his voice.
The butler nodded knowingly.
“I was just coming to tell you, milord,” Johns said. “She has returned to her home.”
Francis blanched. He forced himself to inquire further.
“When will she be returning?” he asked.
“She said that she would return at once, upon your summons,” the butler said.
Francis ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The conflicting emotions he was feeling regarding Emma were, indeed, driving him mad. He felt both relief and a deepening dread upon hearing that she would return once he wrote to her and told her that the trip was concluded.
“Thank you, Johns,” he said curtly.
“Will that be all, milord?” Johns asked, concerned.
Francis bit his lip to keep from issuing an unnecessarily rude response.
“Yes, Johns, thank you,” he repeated.
The butler nodded and silently excused himself. With that, Francis called for the nanny and sent the children with her. Then, he rushed to his study, slamming and locking the door behind him.
He slowly made his way to his desk and collapsed in his chair. Frustrated, he put his head in his hands and tried to swallow his emotions.
For a single, madness-driven moment, Francis considered simply not sending word to Emma that he and the children had returned home. Perhaps, if she never heard from him again, she would never return, thereby saving him the anguish of having to relieve her of her duties.
However, in his heart, he knew that that would never work. Emma was as caring as she was adept and clever, and she would come sooner or later to ensure that all was well with the family.
And, if there was one thing that would hurt Emma worse than letting her go, it would be carrying on with life without saying so much as a word to her and treating her like meal scraps. Not only would he be insulting her intelligence, but he would also be robbing her of some of her dignity. No, he could never do that to her.
In an effort to take his mind off his troubles, Francis started
sifting through the mail, which had piled up since he left town. Much of it was business-related, but then he saw a letter that made his heart stop.
It was from his friend, John, to whom he had written while he was at Charles’s house, the same night he made the decision to send Emma to another family. Since John had written back so quickly, he knew what the letter said, even without opening it.
Sure enough, John was only too happy to accept such a highly recommended governess, especially if she was sent by the Earl of Ashfield.
This news should have pleased Francis, and certainly alleviated all the guilt he had been feeling. However, it had the exact opposite effect.
Not only was he firing Emma, but he was not even giving her any choice in where she went after she left his employ. Moreover, Francis found it more difficult with each passing moment to imagine the household, and life, without Emma in it.
Emma had made life so much happier and more joyful for the children. They had not laughed or enjoyed learning as much as they did with Emma since their mother died. And, if he were being honest with himself, he had not been so happy since Caroline’s death, either.
Emma had had a strange, cathartic effect on the entire household, and Francis realized at last that his family would never again be the same without her.
Without a final glance, he tossed John’s letter in the bin and pulled out a fresh piece of stationary. Hurriedly, he wrote John a brief letter, apologizing and telling him that he would be needing the services of his governess for a while longer, after all.
And, need her, he would, at least until he was forced to marry. Then, and only then, would he manage to let her go.
He felt a twinge of guilt at the unfairness to Emma, but he could not help himself. He simply could not let her go just yet. She made him incredibly happy, and he wanted to feel that way for as long as he possibly could.
He quickly finished his letter to John. Then, he set about preparing his summons to Emma, this time with a great weight lifted from his heart.
***
The moment Emma arrived back at Blackburn Manor, the immediate, refreshing change that she brought to the atmosphere was palpable.
That night, Francis had the kitchen staff prepare Emma’s favorite supper of venison served with roasted vegetables, Madeira wine, and almond and chocolate cake for dessert, and everyone dined together in the dining room.
The smile on Emma’s and the children’s faces warmed his heart, and he knew that he had made the right decision.
They ate in silence during the first course. Francis studied Emma from the corner of his eye, to keep from making her uncomfortable by staring. She looked rested, more relaxed, and Francis found that he was glad for that.
He could not help smiling as he heard her laugh at a joke one of the children was telling.
“So, how was your trip?” she asked.
Francis shook his head, hoping that she had not noticed him watching her. His mind clouded over again at once, recalling the horrid conversation with Charles.
“We got to play with some other children,” Rowena exclaimed excitedly. Francis uttered a wordless prayer of gratitude for his daughter’s interruption.
“And we got to ride horses, and play in a wonderful garden,” Winston added.
Emma laughed.
“Well, it certainly seems that the two of you had a great deal of fun,” she said. The lightness in her voice dissipated the darkness of Francis’s mind, and he smiled.
“They certainly did,” he said.
“And what of you, my lord?” Emma said.
Francis pushed a bite of the food around on his plate, keeping his expression warm.
“I am certainly glad that we took the trip together,” he answered honestly.
Emma beamed.
“I am glad,” she said. All traces of her previous hurt over not being invited were gone, and relief once more washed over Francis. He opened his mouth to ask her about her trip back to her home, but he thought better of it. The mood was so wonderful and light, for the first time in months, and he feared that he would come across as prying and spoil it. So, he simply raised his wine glass.
“It is good to be back home, though,” he said, looking at Emma.
She smiled warmly and raised her glass and gestured to the children to raise their water glasses.
“It is good to be back,” Emma said.
“Yay,” the children said in unison.
Since it was their first night back together again, Francis lifted his usually strict bedtime. Emma seemed pleased by the announcement, and the children enveloped him in a grand hug. While the children went into their room to play with Emma, he decided to take some brandy in the dining room. He had a bit of work to do, but he wanted to bask in the brightened mood of the house.
Even though she was not in the room with him, the effect she had on everyone lingered. Faintly, he could hear the children giggling and squealing, and what sounded like Emma reading to them, using the funny voices the children loved so well.
About an hour later, Francis decided that he should finish up his work for the night. As he walked down the hallway, he noticed that there was light coming from the den.
Francis looked in the room and saw Emma curled up in one of the plush chairs, reading a rather thick book.
He stood watching her for a moment. He expected her to notice him in the doorway and acknowledge him, but she never did. He took a couple of steps into the room, but she still did not lower the book.
“Miss Baker?” he asked. Emma did not respond, her eyes seemingly affixed to the pages.
He chuckled softly. He took another few steps forward and cleared his throat loudly.
That caught Emma’s attention. She looked up quickly from the book and smiled at him.
“Forgive me, my lord, I did not hear you come in,” she said, putting aside her book and beginning to rise. “Is there something you require?”
Francis nodded and put up his hand with a kind smile.
“No, Miss Baker,” he said. “I simply saw a light in here on my way to my study, and I was curious, that is all. What is it that has you so engrossed?”
Emma settled back into her chair and picked up the book. She held her place with her finger and turned the cover to show Francis.
Francis saw the title and raised his eyebrow.
“Hamlet?” he asked.
Emma nodded.
“It is my absolute favorite Shakespearian work,” she said proudly.
Francis smiled and, with a nod, he took a chair beside Emma.
“Is that so?” he asked. “May I ask why that is?”
Emma looked at him with bright curiosity.
“It is his longest play, and one of the most influential,” she said. “Have you read it?”
“Unfortunately, I have not read this one,” he said. “However, I did read some of Shakespeare’s other works during my school days, which were many years ago.” And I, too, once loved Shakespeare’s plays, he added silently.
“Then, you do not know what the play is about?” she asked.
Francis shook his head.
“I am afraid not,” he said.
Emma’s eyes sparkled.
“Would you like me to tell you?” she asked.
Francis smiled at her excitement.
“I would, indeed, Miss Baker,” he said.
“Well, it is most certainly a complex story,” she explained.
“I thought it was about a Danish royal family going mad and poisoning themselves,” he said.
Emma shook her head, her eyes lighting up.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It was a terrible tragedy that occurred because of greed and envy.”
“Oh?” Francis asked. He was beginning to remember more of the things he had heard about the play from others in the ton who had seen it, but he was enthralled by hearing Emma speak about it.
“Yes,” she said, nodding emphatically. “You see, Prince Hamlet’s father, King Hamlet, die
d, and his uncle immediately married his mother. Which, of course, was suspicious enough. Then, an apparition allegedly appeared to Bernardo, Marcellus, and Horatio, who were Prince Hamlet’s friends, claiming to be King Hamlet and saying that he was murdered and wanted revenge.”
She paused, flipping through the pages of the play.
“You were not entirely wrong, however. You see, here,” she paused, pointing out a passage. “Hamlet does decide to feign madness, in the hopes of learning the truth after the apparition appeared. And, later, Ophelia, his love interest, and daughter of the royal advisor, Polonius, does truly go mad, after the death of her father.”