Or, could Mrs. Dennings have been right? Had their times together been mere play for Jonathon before he moved on to his next conquest? As he had done to Deidre? Emily felt sick. She buried her face in her pillow giving vent to her broken heart. Finally, she lay in silence, drained and tired. Although the afternoon sun was low on the horizon, she did not rise to light the lamp. She stared at the canopy over her bed and tried to sort out her mind and come to some sensible solutions. Her heart stopped at a tap on her door.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Andrew.”
“Come in, Drew,” she answered, sitting up. He poked his head in and glanced around at the darkness. Emily lit the lamp beside her bed and laughed at her brother’s rumpled clothes and tousled hair. Yawning, he padded across the floor in his stockinged feet and gave her a hug.
“I started unpacking and sat down on the bed. The next thing I knew, it was dark outside! Jonathon is quite the taskmaster!”
“It keeps you out of mischief.” Emily smiled and kissed his cheek. They visited awhile, talking of his voyage. Andrew was almost as good a storyteller as his father had been, and his animated tale kept Emily entertained until Dulcie came to announce supper.
Emily looked down at herself. She was as rumpled as Andrew. They looked at each other and laughed.
“I shall be back in ten minutes to escort you,” Andrew challenged.
“I shall be ready!”
Splashing some water in the basin, Emily washed her face. She pinched some color into her cheeks and took a comb to her golden-streaked hair. Hurriedly, she changed into a fresh dress and checked her appearance in the mirror. With a minute to spare before Andrew arrived, she thought about seeing Jonathon again at supper, and her heart began to hammer.
The candles lent a golden glow to the dining room reflecting off the crystal and china. David, Joanna, and Jonathon were seated and speaking excitedly when Andrew and Emily entered. She caught Jonathon’s eye, but could not read what was there. He and David rose as Andrew seated her.
Emily’s heart pounded so hard she was certain everyone at the table could hear it. She picked at her food, hardly eating anything since her stomach was full of butterflies. She looked up and caught Jonathon staring at her, a bemused look on his face. Then he turned to answer David’s question.
The men talked about the voyage and the plantation throughout the meal. Joanna offered comments occasionally, but for the most part, the women were quiet. It was torture for Emily to sit so near Jonathon and neither talk to him nor understand what he was thinking. The meal dragged on until Joanna finally excused herself and Emily while the men lingered over brandy and cigars. As the women rose and left, Jonathon’s eyes never left Emily’s back.
Picking up some embroidery, Joanna sat in the chair across from Emily. She looked at the younger girl who was staring into the fire. Dulcie entered with a tea tray and set it down on a table beside Joanna.
“How was your ride with Phillip today?” Joanna asked, pouring the tea.
Emily accepted the cup from Joanna and sighed.
“He asked me to marry him,” Emily answered dully. “He was waiting for Jonathon to return so he could ask for my hand.”
“Oh, dear!” Joanna stopped stirring her tea.
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in her thoughts. Joanna finished her tea and picked up the baby gown she was working on.
“Things did not go well with Jonathon today?”
“No,” Emily replied.
Joanna pursed her lips and nodded once slowly. She began to prattle on about local gossip, aware that Emily needed some senseless noise and time to think.
The men joined them, and David pulled a footstool over to Joanna’s chair. Jonathon pulled on a fresh cigar while he stoked the fire. He walked over to the window and stared, unseeing, into the night. Andrew talked Emily into a game of cards, and as he sat at the table he called, “Come on, Jonathon, play a while. Let me win back some of my money.”
“Andrew, were you gambling?” Emily gasped.
“We must do something to while away the lonely hours at sea and in strange ports,” Jonathon answered her. Emily’s heart raced and she realized that his words were intended to send her a message: his time away had been spent innocently in the company of his men. Slowly, she looked up into his eyes, soft and brown. She had memorized every detail of them.
He sat at her right, and they began the game. Emily felt exhilarated at his nearness, yet frustrated that she could not reach out and take his hand. It was a wonderful-terrible evening, and she was glad when it ended for she pondered — half hoping, half dreading — the possibility that Jonathon would come to her room later.
• • •
Emily sat before the mirror brushing her hair. She had donned a filmy, cream-colored nightgown that flattered her shapely figure. Her heart raced and her ears strained for the sound of Jonathon’s footsteps at her door. She realized as she viewed her image that she would not refuse him if he came to her. All her brave resolutions and promises to herself had melted away at the sight of him today.
Slowly, she approached her bed and climbed between the cool, smooth sheets. She extinguished the lamp and watched the flames in the fireplace. Every nerve and muscle in her body was tensed and waiting, hoping for the door to open. As happens in the stillness of the night, all her fears and doubts snaked through her mind, magnified by the dark, and the quiet, and the solitude. She lay like that for what seemed like an eternity and finally admitted that he was not coming. She tossed and turned trying to ignore the thoughts in her head that said: Mrs. Dennings was right. Deidre was right. You are a fool. Exhausted, her pillow crushed against her ears to drown out those insistent voices, she fell into a restless sleep as dawn streaked the eastern sky.
• • •
“Good morning, missy,” Dulcie trilled as she opened the drapes.
Emily emitted a moan as she peered from beneath the pillow.
“You will miss breakfast if you do not hurry,” Dulcie admonished. “Come on, I shall help you.”
Washing and dressing quickly, Emily was soon down in the dining room. The sideboard was still full of plates offering ham, eggs, corn bread, and sweet rolls, but everyone else had eaten and gone on about the business of the day. Emily poured some coffee and reached for a slice of ham. She nibbled thoughtfully and sipped her coffee. Her appetite meager, she left in search of the others. Joanna had gone off to visit the neighbors. Andrew had gone off with David and Jonathon to see about one of the tobacco fields in the southern portion of the plantation. They were not expected for dinner.
Emily wandered aimlessly through the house and, then, donning her cape, went into the garden. The day was overcast and cool, and the damp air signaled a pending shower. She walked the grounds for a bit and then went inside, returning to her room and curling up on the bed with a book. The lack of sleep from the previous night caused her to yawn again and again. Soon, the book slipped from her hands, and she slept deeply.
• • •
Emily slept until after teatime; the sun was low in the sky. She felt refreshed, though still a little groggy. There was a rap on her door and Dulcie entered.
“Captain Brentwood would like to see you in his study, Miss Emily.”
Emily looked at her in surprise.
“Tell him I shall be there in a moment, please, Dulcie.”
As the door closed, she hurried to the mirror. She brushed her hair and pulled it back in combs. She patted her face with a cool, damp cloth and then, satisfied with the results, went downstairs.
Emily found herself trembling, so she clasped her hands in front of her in an attempt to quell their shaking. She knocked on the study door and heard his deep voice, the voice she longed to hear more than any other, bid her enter. Taking a deep breath, she did so.
The fire crackled and spit, but did not seem to warm the icy stillness of the room. Drizzle spattered against the windows and ran down the panes in weeping rivulets. A slash of pale white across the horizon was the last evidence of the setting sun. Ticking ominously, the grandfather clock seemed to hold the couple to a set cue.
Jonathon stood behind his desk, his back to Emily. He was looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, a cigar in his mouth. Reaching up, he removed the cigar, but did not turn around.
“You slept soundly,” he stated.
“Yes, I was quite tired,” she replied, trying to see his face.
“Phillip was here.”
She did not speak. Her mind raced. What did they say to each other? Did Jonathon, in a fit of jealous rage, order him from the house? Or did he, unmoved and uncaring, smirk at the innocent young man’s request? The silence fell between them like distant thunder.
“He said that the two of you want me to give you my blessing.” Jonathon turned, eyes blazing. “Are you so fickle, Emily, that if I cannot warm your bed, you will find another who will?”
“How dare you …” she sputtered.
“I thought you were the innocent virgin — well, I was right about the latter, but perhaps once that was taken care of you felt free to, shall we say, dabble?”
“Why, you hypocritical bastard!” she seethed. “I suppose you were celibate all this time too? No frolicking with the seaport whores for Captain Brentwood. Your reputation for faithfulness precedes you. Just ask Deidre Manning — she can give a full account of the wandering captain,” Emily stormed.
“Well, Phillip seemed entirely pleased with himself. Puffed up like a cock-rooster thanks to your charms, Emily.” He glared at her. “You seem to be quite generous with them.”
“Just what did Phillip say to you?”
“That you were so moved by his proposal, you were speechless. But that it was sealed with a kiss. A kiss my eye!”
Emily stood stock still in amazement. How could Phillip have jumped to that conclusion? What was worse, how could Jonathon believe this of her? She shot him a scathing look.
“A kiss was all, Captain. Phillip is a gentleman!” turning in a whirl of skirts, she fled to her room.
Jonathon slammed his fist on the desk and cursed.
• • •
Pacing in her room, Emily muttered angrily. She stopped and jabbed at the fire, then slammed the poker into the stand. Angry tears flowed down her cheeks, and she brushed at them with the back of her hands. She stopped at the window and pressed her forehead against its coolness. Rage lessened to frustration, and her shoulders shook with despairing sobs.
After a while, she pulled herself together and freshened up for supper. She would not hide in her room — she had done nothing wrong. Squaring her shoulders, she went downstairs. She met David and Joanna walking arm in arm into the dining room. At the sight of Emily, they stopped in their tracks. Her red eyes held such sadness they were shocked. Joanna went to her.
“Emily, dear, what is wrong?” she asked.
“A slight misunderstanding,” Emily tried to laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “Please, Joanna, I cannot talk about it right now.” She pressed past them and sat down.
She was the first at the table, and then Joanna and David sat down. Andrew was spending a few days at his best friend, Calvin’s. Finally, Jonathon stalked in scowling, a drink in his hand. Joanna looked from him to Emily as David began the grace.
When he finished, David raised an eyebrow at Joanna. She shrugged slightly and began to eat. The two of them might have been alone for their attempts at drawing Jonathon and Emily into the conversation proved useless. The meal passed in stilted conversation and awkward silences. Finally, all excused themselves to different parts of the house: Jonathon to his study, Emily to her room, David and Joanna to theirs.
• • •
Emily changed into her nightgown and gave her hair a quick brushing. Feeling tired and drained, she climbed into bed. As she pulled the blankets over herself, there was a knock on her door. Her heart pounded.
“Come in,” she called.
Joanna entered, and Emily’s heart sank. Sitting beside her on the bed, Joanna took Emily’s hand.
“What is it, Emily?” she asked gently.
“I do not think I can talk about it.”
“I know Phillip was here this afternoon. Did he ask Jonathon for your hand?”
Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes then ran unchecked down her face.
“He led Jonathon to believe that I had already accepted and in my fervor, kissed him passionately. Jonathon practically accused me of lying with Phillip while he was away.” She buried her face in her hands; the hurt was almost unbearable.
Joanna wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl. “My brother’s a fool!”
“We said terrible, hurtful things to each other,” Emily cried. “How could he believe this of me? Why did Phillip think I had accepted his proposal?”
Joanna stroked her hair and patted her back.
“Emily, it will all work out,” Joanna said, wishing she felt more confident that it would. She stayed until Emily settled down, talking softly, soothing Emily’s fraught nerves. Finally, seeing exhaustion taking over, Joanna left and Emily fell asleep.
• • •
When Emily awoke the next morning, her head ached and her eyes burned. The bright sun streaming in the window did not help. Rising slowly to ease the throbbing in her head, she bathed and dressed. Making her way down to breakfast, she paused at the front door. Impulsively, she opened it and stepped out to take some deep breaths of fresh air. The air filled her lungs and her head began to clear. The sun still stung her burning eyes, but she felt better. She hurried inside to join the others.
David and Joanna still lingered over their breakfast. Jonathon’s place had been cleared away already, and Emily felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
“Jonathon had to go into Williamsburg for a few days,” Joanna explained, reading Emily’s thoughts. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
David rose to seat her and patted her shoulder, smiling into her eyes. Emily covered his hand with hers and squeezed it gently in thanks.
They talked of trivial matters and tried to keep the conversation light for Emily’s sake. There was to be a public time, a social gathering including theatre and a ball, in Williamsburg the following week, and the House of Burgesses would be in session. David suggested they accompany him and spend a couple of nights.
“Oh, David, how wonderful!” Joanna cried. Rising, she went over to kiss him and boldly sat on his lap. David grinned and hugged her, then coughing, blushed and lifted her to her feet.
“Joanna — ” he said.
The women laughed and, blustering, David rose and excused himself. Then he laughed, returned and gave Joanna a long kiss, winked at Emily, and left for the fields.
“You are so fortunate, Joanna,” Emily sighed.
“I know. And I thank the Lord every day. Things will work out for you as well, Emily.” Joanna reached over and gently held the girl’s hand.
Emily did not answer. She just tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
• • •
Phillip arrived that afternoon, as Emily suspected he would. Instead of feeling the friendly warmth his visits brought, resentment welled up within her. It was made worse by the fact that he came in the carriage again rather than on horseback. Emily awaited him in the parlor, and when he entered and took her hand to kiss it, it was all she could do not to shrink away from him.
“Shall we take a ride, Emily?” he asked excitedly.
“No, Phillip, not today.
He looked crestfallen. He sat beside her on the settee, and she rose to ring for Dulcie. She then sat i
n a chair across from him. A look of bewilderment crossed his face and then disappointment when Joanna entered with a tea tray — with three teacups.
Setting the tray down, she stole a glance at Emily who smiled in gratitude. Then Joanna sat beside a confused Phillip and began to pour.
They passed a congenial time chatting, and Emily almost giggled in relief several times. She was too drained and too tired to handle Phillip today. She suspected Joanna had an alternative reason for appearing, though she did not know what it was.
Finally, sensing that Joanna was a permanent fixture for the afternoon, Phillip rose to leave. Noting that Emily remained in her seat, he quickly donned his cloak and left.
“I suspect Phillip is a little disappointed with this afternoon’s visit,” Joanna remarked.
“More than a little. Thank you, Joanna. After the scene with Jonathon last night, I could not have taken another one with Phillip today.”
“What will you tell him?”
“I do not know. But I cannot marry him, not when I…” she stopped. “The affection I feel for Phillip has been shaken by his presumption and premature action,” she said stiffly.
Joanna looked at her. “Remember why he acted that way, Emily.” Then to soften the rebuke she added, “Love does strange things to people.”
• • •
Everyone had gathered in the parlor, Joanna working on more baby clothes, David reading beside her. Andrew and Emily were playing cards when she heard Jonathon’s horse in the drive. To Emily, it seemed like forever before he entered the room. He called a greeting to everyone and, meeting Emily’s eyes, nodded slightly. Emily’s eyes followed his every movement, admiring his tall, lean figure dressed in a brown longcoat and tan breeches. He looked drawn and tired as he walked to the fireplace to warm his hands. David poured him a drink, and they chatted about his trip.
Emily felt his eyes on her several times, and finally she had the nerve to look up and meet his gaze. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Emily’s heart raced. Then Andrew reminded her again of her turn, and she looked down at her cards. She felt flushed and her palms were sweaty. Unable to concentrate, she lost the game, and she and Andrew joined the others in conversation.
Time After Time Page 58
