by Rebecca Dash
“What on Earth happened last night?” said James.
“I have no idea, but I get the feeling the gin got the better of us.”
James stood up with some effort and tried to dust himself off, slapping at his clothes.
“You have it all over your back as well,” said Luke.
“My back, my front, there is hay in the pockets of my waistcoat. How does that happen?”
“Very easily when you roll around drunk in a barn.”
“If I arrive at the duke’s home in this state, I will certainly lose my position.”
“You look fine. Just run there and the wind will blow the dirt off you.”
“I am nowhere near fine. And there is nothing amusing about this. I do not think he would even supply me with a reference.”
Luke burst out laughing. “A reference? You are lucky if he does not put a riding boot in your backside and have you thrown in the river.”
“Yes, everything is funny when you can crawl into the fields and get straight to work, but this is not a joke for me.”
“You are right. I will be able to start work with no problem. I am privileged to do as I please in my profession. But for the less fortunate among us, do stop by my house before you run off to the duke. I would hate to have you drown on my account. Amelia would be glad to help you look presentable.”
James nodded, pleased enough at that suggestion. He ambled out of the barn, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion. He stopped at the doorway, wiped his brow, and turned to face his friend. There was a pressing question at hand, one he knew he had to ask before it spilled forth at an inopportune time. Probably while drunk again.
“My dear Mr. Grant, there is something I must ask you before I take my leave.”
Luke wobbled as he stood up. “Are you positive you must? This sounds very formal and I am not sure that goes well with a headache.”
“It cannot wait.” His voice was hoarse from the night before. “It is about your sister.”
“This sounds appalling already.”
“I want to ask for Miss Amelia’s hand in marriage.”
Luke almost fell over again. His eyes were wide with surprise. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I can bring her great happiness if you let me. Besides, I doubt she has had any other legitimate offers.” James wrinkled his forehead. “As committed to the house as she is, I mean.”
“Will Amelia bring you happiness as well?”
“I have always wanted a spirited woman.”
“She is certainly that.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck as he considered it. “Well, I think you drink too much if that is your idea of blissful matrimony.”
“So, may we get married with your blessing?”
“That is really not my decision to make,” said Luke.
“You are the head of the house. It is your decision, which you can impress upon her strongly, if you so desire.”
Luke threw his hands up in concession. “I am not ready for all that yet. I have taken over my father’s farm and I am trying to do things as he would have, but I cannot fill his place. No one can. I am surprised that you would choose now to bring this up, when neither of us can even think. I had no idea you considered Amelia in that way. But if your desire is to ask my sister for her hand in marriage, you must go to her first, not me.”
“Good day then, my friend. I will see you soon for more.” James retrieved his wig from the ground, waved, and set out on his journey. The sunlight hurt his eyes when he got out of the barn. It would be a short walk though. He proceeded to the river and then the bridge across it.
***
Amelia brought a basin and a pitcher full of water out to the table so the footman could wash up. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake himself. She stood a few feet away, brushing all the hay off his coat with a clothes brush. Amelia only caught him glancing at her once, but dismissed it as one of the silly games that men play. She handed him a towel. James looked at her again as he dried his hands and face.
“You are very kind, Miss Amelia.”
“It is not kindness to help someone you know. You are my brother’s friend. That is good enough for me.”
“You did not have to brush my coat off for me. That was better than most would have offered.”
“I think I have done a decent job, as well.” She held the garment up and looked at it, front and back. “The only thing left is for you to try it on again.”
James put on his footman’s coat and pulled the lapels to straighten it out.
“Almost as if you had never been there,” said Amelia. “Just a few more passes with the brush and you will be done.” She went around to his back and brushed his collar off, and then his arms. “I do not see a single piece of yellow straw anywhere on you.”
“You know…” James smiled as he put his wig on. “You are an extraordinary woman, Miss Amelia.”
“You are too kind to me, sir.”
“I mean it. The way you take care of this family. The way you have taken care of me now. I sometimes wonder why you are still single.”
Amelia put the clothes brush on the table and took a step back. Her red hair was the color of fire when the sun hit it through the window.
“No,” she said.
“But I have not even asked you yet!”
“It is plain to see what you would ask.”
“I spoke to your brother about it already and we have his blessing.”
“I do not care if we have the blessing of the Archbishop of Canterbury and a special license on the way.”
“Maybe you just need to hear it out loud. Miss Amelia, will you…”
“I said no.” This time, her voice was firm. Something in her manner told James that she was serious.
“Might I inquire as to why?”
“I do not think you would like to have the answer.”
“On the contrary. I must know the reason for this.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“You want to know why I will not marry, or even court, you? Because I am convinced you are the most depraved man alive. You show up at our door while we still mourn my father’s death, only to take my brother out to spend the night gambling, drinking, and who knows what else.”
His face had turned mean. “That last part is where all the fun comes in. You never know what we might get into.”
“You keep him out all night, knowing he has work in the morning, and a family to provide for. And you have no qualms about doing all this?”
“Not a one.”
“That is a wonderful answer. It is honest. I shall give you honesty in return. After all that, you come here covered in hay and smelling of booze, asking for my hand? Of course, I say no. I would say no a thousand times.”
“Well, if you are so sure, then I wish you the best of luck in becoming an old maid.”
“And I wish you the best of luck as you leave my home, sir. Your journey is a long one. I suggest you take it.”
“You would know exactly how long that journey is, would you not, Miss Amelia?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
James never answered her. He walked across the room, his footsteps pounding through the house, then slammed the door behind him.
Amelia looked out the window to be sure he was gone. She hoped Luke would have some explanation for what just happened. It disgusted her to think that James even had the gall to ask her such a question. Who did he think she was? Some desperate wretch who would say yes to any man that came forward?
“Unbelievable,” she said aloud, hoping her siblings heard none of what transpired.
Chapter 7
Amelia strolled through the orchard at night. The apples were lit up with white halos. The moon was out and casting a glow over everything, making the countryside a glorious land of dreams. This was her sanctuary. It was where the world seemed right again. She went there often. Her family became more unsettled with every week that passed.
Her mother could not escape her own misery. Luke was growing angrier with his work on the farm. Happiness was a distant memory. But Amelia did remember by night as she stood in that orchard and picked an apple because he had offered it once. Taking it reminded her of Lord Thoram. The first bite was ecstasy. She wondered if he ever returned there, searching for her. Sometimes she stayed longer than others.
***
Forks clinked on their plates. The fireplace crackled. Dinner had become a silent affair. Amelia preferred it that way. Anything was better than the alternative. Luke had taken longer to get home. His clothes reeked of alcohol and sweat. He looked down at the food in front of him, stabbing at the meat.
“This lamb is too dry.” He stared at Amelia.
“It tastes fine to me,” said Prudence.
Luke never turned his gaze. “Do not defend her. Cooking and cleaning are the only things she is tasked with and she cannot even get that right.”
“My cleaning is bad as well?” said Amelia.
“You should spend more time on it.”
“I spend every moment looking after this house. It is my whole day.”
“Then maybe it should be your night as well, instead of wasting it with your walks.”
“My walks keep me sane.”
“I walk all day long. It does nothing for me,” said Luke.
“My walks are different.”
“You put one foot in front of the other, do you not?”
“The walks are different because you are not on them.”
“You are quick with your tongue.”
“I get it from our father.”
“He should have slapped you for it long ago.”
“Striking people is a very uncivilized thing to do.” Prudence tried to interrupt.
“Sometimes it gets the point across,” said Luke.
“What exactly is the point?” Amelia raised her voice. “That you are looking for any excuse to berate me? That you are inventing reasons? Or that when you are on the cut, you also become a contemptible fatwit?”
Luke slammed his fist on the table and scowled. “Do not speak to me like that! You will do a better job if I tell you it is necessary.”
Amelia glanced at their mother. Mrs. Grant was looking down at her plate, ignoring the argument, even after they began to shout. Some days were better than others. Amelia would catch her crying silently, or spending far too much time in bed. She wasn’t capable of much else at the moment. Even if that meant a fight.
“I will do a better job when you learn to harvest a decent crop,” said Amelia.
“This again? First you go to the barn and embarrass me in front of my friend, then you bring it up again here.”
“It is fairly embarrassing to call that footman your friend to begin with. I was just trying to have dinner. You are the one who wants to argue about cooking and cleaning.”
“I can combine them for you if you like.” In a swift motion, Luke snatched his plate up and threw it across the table, at Amelia.
Her eyes wide, she ducked to the side and put her arms up defensively. It flew past her head, crashing into a wall behind her, sending shattered pieces of glass and food everywhere.
“Now both problems are combined,” said Luke. “Go clean up your dreadful food. I hope I have been understood.”
Amelia stood up, holding a glass in her hand. “Perfectly,” she said as she threw it at her brother. “And you clean it up.”
The glass conked him right on the head, bouncing off, and breaking on the floor. Luke was stunned. He rubbed his head where he had been struck. “For heaven’s sake,” he said.
Amelia felt bad that it hit him. She wanted to reach out and rub his temple until the pain went away. Then the shock seemed to wear off and his eyes fixed on her again. Luke got up fast. The chair he was in teetered back on two legs, then fell over with a sharp crack. He lunged around the table, arms outstretched, coming after her.
Prudence sprang out of her seat, jumping between them, holding her arms out so he could not get to Amelia.
“Stop this at once!” said Prudence. “There are children here. Your sisters are in the room.”
The twins cried. Mrs. Grant still focused only on her plate.
Luke glanced at them. He breathed deeply. It appeared to soften him. He put his hands back down at his sides. “You must find a husband, and soon,” he said.
“I refuse to marry your friend, James,” said Amelia.
“That is your business. I do not care who you marry, just be quick with it so we can have one less mouth to feed.” Luke walked over to the door.
“The way you harvest crops, it will not be enough. You may have to chase everyone off, then stay here alone and eat dirt.”
He looked back at her, that rage still inside him. His fist clenched. His heart beat fiercely. “Soon,” he said, then left the house, slamming the front door behind him.
Prudence breathed again. “Did you really have to say that at the end?”
“Absolutely.”
Dinner had become the worst time of day. The most likely time for the alcohol to change their brother, or just make him more truthful. Amelia didn’t know which it was. But things were only getting worse. The atmosphere around the house was either noisy and unpleasant or silent as a tomb. There was never anything in between anymore.
Chapter 8
In mid-afternoon, while on one of the walks that Amelia refused to give up, she went past the vegetable garden on the farm. It sprawled over several acres of land and had specific crops boxed in with marked pathways between them. It took several people to keep the place going, and unless she ran into her, Amelia would not even notice her sister in the midst of it all. What she did notice right away, between the turnips and the broccoli, was the yellow waistcoat and knee breeches of the footman who was talking to Prudence.
It was obvious, even from a distance, that something untoward was taking place. It was in the way that James leaned in when he smiled, closer and more familiar than it should have been. And in how Prudence did not move away, but looked right at him and flipped her hair instead.
Amelia turned and went back home, mumbling genteel curses on the journey. She waited there for hours for her sister to return, then approached her outside the front door. By then, it seemed like the traditional place to discreetly inquire as to whether a family member had gone queer in the attic.
“I took a walk today,” said Amelia.
“You take one most days. How was it?”
“Eventful. I passed the vegetable garden on my way. It is lovely there with the different colors of the crops.”
“I did not see you.” Prudence bit her lower lip and looked toward the door. “It was busy there all day.”
“I am sure you had a lot to do. What were you busy with?”
“The cabbage is mature and ready for harvesting. I had to cut the heads off and get them into the storeroom before the next rain.”
“You have more dedication to this farm than Luke does.”
“He is too busy drinking and gambling to worry about a ruined crop.”
“I blame that horrible footman for some of it,” said Amelia. “It is easier to get lost completely when you have someone to show you the way.”
“It is not his fault. Our brother took father’s death very badly.”
“So have we all. That does not excuse everything. And it does not help that his closest friend, James, trades in depravity.”
Prudence chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Surely you exaggerate.”
“Are we going to continue this charade?”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“I saw you with him today, in the garden, looking like you never wanted it to end. Tell me it was simple conversation.”
Prudence looked away. “Should I lie to you? I intended to bring him to the house to announce things properly.”
Amelia’s stomach hurt. She dreaded what was coming next. “What is there to announce?”
“That we are courting.”
A weight had been lifted. Amelia almost laughed. That was far better than a quick engagement.
“You look relieved,” said Prudence.
“It could have been much worse. You need to stop seeing him. James is not a good man.”
“He has been sweet to me.”
“Does it not bother you that, not so long ago, he asked to marry me?”
“Does it bother you that you turned him down?”
“That is ridiculous! I would do so again.”
“Jealousy does not become you,” said Prudence.
Amelia could have screamed.
***
The best and worst thing about confrontations was that they produced results. There was no way to go back to life as if nothing had ever taken place. From then on, James became a frequent guest at the Grant’s home, either drinking with Luke or talking with Prudence. Amelia did her best to avoid him whenever possible.
One day, he arrived at the house early, and there was no dissuading him from coming in and waiting. Luke and Prudence were still at the farm. Mrs. Grant stayed in her bedroom with the baby. The twins ran around. Amelia had a rabbit roasting on a spit in the fireplace.
“I have enjoyed seeing you these last few weeks,” said James.
Amelia felt nauseous. “You are here for my sister, sir. I suggest you remember that.”
“I remember everything. I remember how pretty you were that night in the barn when you had your back up over Luke’s behavior. And I agree with you completely. A man must be able to balance his vices with his duties.”
She rolled her eyes while stirring vegetables in a pot. “And you are such a man?”
“I am. I could do a lot for this family if I were compelled to.”
“What might compel you?”
He stepped closer to her. “You could find a way, Miss Amelia.”
She turned around holding a fireplace poker, pointing it at him like a rapier. “I could compel you to get out of this house!” she shouted.
James backed away, putting his hands up in surrender. “There is a passion in you. It is beautiful.”
“See to it that you find the beauty in my sister. That is where your eyes belong.”
