The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals Book 2)

by Tess Thompson

  “That’s kind of you to say. Sometimes, I wonder. I second-guess every decision, imagining what would have happened if I’d done this or that or the other thing.”

  “They’re all good, kind people, sir.”

  “Yes, this is true. If this is the measure of a father, then I’ve done well.”

  “I’d say so, sir.”

  “Those years my boys were away, there was a pressure on my chest all the time. The same question rolled over and over in my mind. Would my precious sons come back to me?” Lord Barnes spoke softly. “For the first year of their lives they slept curled around each other like they must have been in the womb.” He turned toward me, his eyes glassy. “I used to stare at them for minutes at a time, marveling over the miracle of their perfect fingers and toes and almost envious they would always have each other. I felt quite alone at the time. My first wife, you know.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “One day when the twins were about a month old, I found Josephine next to their cradle. She was three at the time—my little angel girl with hair so blond it almost looked silvery and eyes that seemed to have lived a thousand years. She looked up at me and said, ‘Papa, how come I don’t have another one of me? It makes me feel lonesome.’”

  “What did you say?” My chest ached at the thought of Jo as a small child.

  “I said I understood exactly what she meant. That I, too, envied them. Then I pulled her into my lap and assured her that I loved her very much. She nestled into my chest and, in the way children do, gave me her whole weight. She trusted me with her life. I can still remember the sweet smell of her hair and the weight of her. We sat like that, watching the babies sleep, until she lifted her face to look into my eyes. ‘Papa, I’ll be a good big sister, won’t I? Even though I’m jealous?’ I stifled a laugh at her earnest expression and assured her that she would. She was, of course, loving her brothers when her mother couldn’t.” He shifted so that his torso faced me. “Phillip, there was always something lonely about her. Perhaps because she was the older sister to twins and felt left out. Or because her mother was incapacitated. Her sisters, born three years apart from each other, have always been close, perhaps because they’re opposites. Until Quinn came, Cymbeline and Fiona were more like Jo’s children than her sisters. Even after that, she always had a distant, longing look in her eyes. I’d catch her staring out the window sometimes, as if she were waiting for someone to arrive.

  “And then, one day you did. I knew the moment you walked into this house that you were the one for my Josephine. You were the one she’d been waiting for, even if she didn’t know it. She’s different with you. Lighter. Joyful. That longing in her is gone. She’s given you her full weight, young man. A gift like no other.”

  My eyes stung as I gathered myself. “If I may, I’d like to say that I, too, had a longing for someone. This chronic loneliness that only went away when I read Jo’s letters. I don’t know why or how, but we fill that empty space for each other.”

  “For that, young man, I shall be forever grateful that you arrived on our doorstep declaring your love for a girl you knew only through letters. She wrote those letters to the soul mate she’s wanted all these years. God intended for you to have them. There are no accidents that way.”

  I bowed my head and, to my utter dismay, started to cry.

  Lord Barnes put a hand on my shoulder. “Ah no, son. No tears today. You’ve had enough of those for a lifetime. You’re a Barnes now. You’ll never be alone again.”

  His kind words only made it worse. I buried my face in my hands and willed the tears to stop. Before I realized what was happening, Lord Barnes had lifted me to my feet and taken me into his arms. I should’ve stiffened and drawn away like a man, but in that moment I was a boy again. A boy no one wanted. A boy who craved the arms of a father.

  “It’s all right, dear boy.” Lord Barnes patted my back. “All that’s behind you now. We want you. All of us. Even stuffy old Jasper likes you, and he doesn’t like anyone.”

  I laughed through a sob before drawing away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  “You’ve been alone for too long a time, that’s all.” Lord Barnes put both hands on my shoulders. “Don’t ever be ashamed to show Josephine what you’re feeling. A wife likes to know what’s inside a man’s head. I’ve learned that from Quinn. They’re less afraid of emotion than us.”

  “Yes sir. All that said, perhaps my bursting into tears could be kept from my future wife.”

  He laughed as he let go of me. “I hope you will come to me if you ever need anything. Advice. Or just to talk.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “Now, there’s one thing I have to discuss with you. You’ll want your own nest to make your own family.”

  I hung my head, immediately ashamed. “I thought I’d rent a place for us in town.”

  He poured another finger of whiskey in his glass. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ve set up a savings fund for all of the girls for when they marry. Quinn wanted me to. If something happened to me, they’d still have a dowry. Even without your income, Jo has more than enough to live modestly for years to come, as well as build a house if you so choose.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s one stipulation.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you have it in your heart to take pity on your father-in-law, I’d be most grateful if you’d build a house on our property. Any spot you want, as long as I can see your light from my windows. It’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you.”

  “Lord Barnes, I’d be very happy to do so. In fact, I have a feeling I know where Jo will choose.”

  He sighed, seemingly relieved. “Thank you for taking pity upon me. I promise not to interfere too much. Although we’d love to have you for Sunday dinner.” He grinned as he waved his hand around. “Only every so often, of course.”

  “It’ll be our pleasure.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.” He strode over to the desk. “When Josephine was born, my father and mother sent a ring that they’d had in the family for years. They asked that I give it to her when she married. It belonged to my mother’s beloved aunt, also named Josephine.”

  He handed me a small velvet bag. I untied it and pulled out an emerald ring surrounded by small diamonds. “Sir? Are you certain?”

  “Will she find it too old-fashioned, do you think?”

  “She’s old-fashioned too. I think she’ll love it.”

  “Use it to propose to her,” he said. “I want my little girl to have a moment to tell her children about. She’s been such a good daughter all these years, and I want her to have it all.” Now it seemed to be Lord Barnes’s turn to cry. “Look at me. Sentimental old fool.” He dabbed his eyes.

  A soft knock on the door followed by Quinn’s voice interrupted us. “May I come in?”

  “Yes, darling, Phillip’s with me.”

  She entered, eyes sparkling in the lamplight. “Has it happened?”

  “How did you know?” Lord Barnes asked.

  “You know there are no secrets in this house,” Quinn said. “Even Delphia knew.”

  Lord Barnes chuckled. “I’ve given him the ring.”

  “When will you do it?” Quinn asked. “I promise not to say a word.”

  “What about tonight?” I asked.

  “You could take her for a sleigh ride,” Quinn said. “That would be romantic.”

  I shook my head. “No, I want to do it in front of her family. That’s what she would want.”

  “I do believe you’re right,” Quinn said as she held out her arms to me. “I’m so very happy. You’re the answer to my prayers. Welcome to our family.”

  For the second time that evening, I let myself give in to the embrace of a parent figure I’d wanted for so long.

  Josephine

  I gripped the back of the chair and stared at the ghost before me.
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br />   “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Walter asked as he crossed the room toward me. Yes, it was his voice, low-pitched and smooth. He was thinner than last I saw him, and his golden hair darker. Even thus, he was as beautiful as my memory. His features seemed carved from the finest stone into a statue of a Greek god.

  “Walter? I thought you’d died.”

  “I didn’t.” He grinned and held out his hands as if it were the most ordinary thing that he’d been gone missing for two years and was now in my library. “Are you glad to see me?”

  “Were you captured?” My mind tried to sort through how this could have happened. If that was the case, the army would have known, wouldn’t they? “I don’t understand. You were dead.”

  “No, not exactly dead.” His light blue eyes that had once melted my resolve flickered up to the rafters. “The details are uncertain but I’ll tell you best I can.”

  I waited, watching him with great intent, hoping to tell if he was saying the truth or not.

  “During the battle, I was hit and went down, then passed out. I’m not sure what happened, but I woke to find myself surrounded by dead bodies from both sides. My shoulder had taken a gunshot, but I was able to get to my feet. My unit had left. In pain and disoriented, I started walking. I had no plan or any idea what direction I was headed. For days I walked and saw no one. Finally, exhausted and near starvation, I collapsed. The next thing I knew, I woke in a Swiss hospital. I couldn’t remember any of what had happened to me. That came later, after the war. I didn’t know who I was. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost my tags. The Swiss people took pity on me and allowed me to stay at a sanitarium. When the war ended, I still had no memory of anything, so I stayed.”

  “But how did you get to Switzerland? Surely someone would have seen you and either captured you or helped you?”

  “Like I said, I can’t remember anything. The nurses said I came in on one of their ambulances. For years, I had no recollection of who I was.”

  “And then suddenly your memory returned?”

  He smiled, and my stomach turned. That smile. I’d been susceptible back then, but now my stomach knew that he was a liar. “It took a long time, but finally it returned. I knew I had to come home for you. There was some trouble with my paperwork, given that the army thought I was dead, so my way to you was long.”

  Stunned by this information, I took a second to gather myself. “This all seems unbelievable.”

  “Doesn’t it, though? But it’s all true. Every bit.” One corner of his wide mouth twitched. He stepped closer. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

  I moved behind the chair. My heart thudded in my chest.

  Quick as a cat, he moved around the chair and picked up both my hands and kissed each one in turn. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

  I snatched my hands away. “Why didn’t you write after your memory came back?”

  Without blinking, looking directly into my eyes, he answered with great urgency in his voice. “I did. At least twenty times since my memory returned.”

  “I didn’t get them.”

  “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t have arrived. I was afraid this was the case, as I knew you’d write to me if you’d gotten them. I wished I’d had your letters many, many times in the last few months. The ones you wrote me during the war so that a piece of you was still with me. They’d have helped me survive as I worked out how to get here. Do you remember all the things you said in your letters? I read them over and over back then. I’ve never had anyone love me that way. I’ve never loved anyone but you, Jo.” He drew nearer. I caught the scent of whiskey on his breath. Had he had whiskey during the dinners we’d had together? I couldn’t remember now. “It’s finally time for us to be together. You look as beautiful as ever. Maybe more so, if that’s possible. Tell me you’re not married.”

  “No, Walter, I’m not married. Even so, it’s too late for us. Too much has happened. I’m in love with someone else.” The desire to have him gone surged through me, followed by fear. I didn’t want him here. How would I get rid of him? Did I tell him about Phillip, or would that make it worse? Why had he come after I was finally happy? And this tall tale of amnesia? I didn’t believe it for a second. Had he deserted his post? I already knew him to be a liar. Perhaps he saw his opportunity to desert and took it.

  “Don’t say so, Josephine. Please. I didn’t mean to be away for so long. The moment I remembered who I was, I knew I had to come find you. I knew you’d wait for me. You said so in your letters.”

  “I did wait. Even after I thought you were dead, I pledged my eternal love to you. I told my family I was a spinster, having loved only you. I thought no one could measure up to you. All these years, I lived on the memory of those two weeks we had together.”

  “See, I knew you’d be here. I knew my faithful Jo wouldn’t let me down. What an epic love story we are.” He smiled as he placed his hands on my shoulders. His expression turned tender. Only now I could see the skillful way he rearranged his features to what he thought I wanted to see.

  How had I not seen how fake he was, how practiced in the art of deceit?

  He caressed my cheek. I jerked away. I didn’t want his touch. Not the places where Phillip had touched me. My heart belonged to him now.

  He continued on as if he hadn’t noticed my rebuke. “We can finally start our life together. Your family, are they well? I’ll finally get to meet them. You can’t imagine how I’ve longed to see you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you with someone else. My greatest fear was to find you married.” He picked up my left hand. His eyes filled as he brought my hand to his mouth. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long. The thought of you waiting here for me was all that got me through. You’ll marry me now, won’t you?”

  I yanked my hands from his and backed up a few inches. “And my photograph? Do you still have it? Wouldn’t that have sustained you during these long months of separation?” I baited him just to see how quickly he could lie.

  The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. “My love, I dropped it somewhere along the way. I’ve lost more than a lifetime of sleep wondering where it went. If only I could remember the time after I was shot, I might be able to pin down when I lost it. Then at least I could imagine it lying somewhere in France. Waiting for me, just as you did.”

  Triggered by the lie about the photograph, a blind fury came over me. “What about the others? The other women who thought you loved them? The ones who thought they were your one and only? Did you lose their photographs, too, or did you leave them behind in the same box where mine was?”

  “What other women?” He stared at me with blank, innocent eyes.

  “I know the truth. I know I wasn’t the only one who thought you’d return to them. Have you been to see them first? Am I your last stop? Did you work your way west? Were they all married so you came here for one last chance? Your despicable lies pile up one after the other, Walter. I know my photograph wasn’t with you as you promised.” I held up a hand. “Don’t bother to try to defend yourself. I know everything. Every single thing out of your mouth has been a lie. You were only interested in my wealth.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” His voice turned menacing. A glittering anger shot from his eyes. This was the real him. I’m seeing him for the first time, I thought. This is the real man. Dark and twisted. Conniving.

  “Know about what? The other women? Or about how you found women with money and then seduced them with your charm?”

  “All of it.” He spat the words out as if they were venom.

  “Where have you really been all these years? Have you seen all the others first? Am I your last chance?”

  His jaw clenched.

  I was right. I was his last stop. His last chance to be taken in by an unsuspecting woman. The others had moved on, perhaps married already. He had to come to see if I was still available and charm me into believing whatever lies he’d come up with about his whereabouts.


  “Answer my question.” He wrapped his hands around my shoulders and shook me. “How do you know this?”

  My limbs went numb as the anger drained from me. I’d provoked him. He was dangerous. A cornered animal. Who knew what he might do?

  Fiona. She was in the back. Please stay in the office, I prayed.

  He tightened his grip on my shoulders and dug his fingers into the spot just above my shoulder blades.

  I yelped with pain.

  “How do you know about them?” he asked.

  “How does that matter?” The words came out angry when it was really fear that seized me now.

  “The only men who knew about the other women served with me in France, and most of them died in the same battle I escaped from. Who survived to tell you this?” His eyes had changed since he walked through the library doors. Instead of playful, they were wild. They reminded me of a feral cat we’d once found in the woods.

  “Did you run away? Is the amnesia story a lie like so many of your others?” I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “Shut up,” he said, spitting.

  “How could you walk away from your fellow soldiers? You left them there to die to save yourself.”

  “One measly man doesn’t win a war.”

  “One cowardly man.”

  “I told you to shut up.” His hands moved to my neck and pressed into my windpipe for a second before loosening the grip slightly. “You don’t know what it was like over there. The terror and the absolute lack of hope. I saw a chance for survival, and I took it. Anyone in my situation would’ve done the same.”

  “No, some men had reasons to come home. Women who loved them who were waiting, praying on their knees every night. If you’d loved someone, you would have done whatever you could to get back to them, even if it meant fighting through one more battle. You’re a coward and a liar.”

  He tightened his hands around my neck. I pressed into his wrists with my nails, but it didn’t deter him.