Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“NO ALICE!” Emma screamed and then she followed it by a high-pitched squeal as she ran down the stairs, her hair flying free behind her and a grin on her face.
“Miss Emma! You cannot wear britches!”
“Oh, yes, I can!” Emma replied, and it was then I realized Emma was, indeed, wearing a pair of boy’s britches. “They are ever so comfortable. Nothing like my dreadful gowns!” she called back over her shoulder then ran by me “Good Morning, Ashington,” she greeted me, heading toward the kitchen.
Alice finally made it to the bottom step, out of breath and already looking exhausted for so early in the day. “I’ve no idea where she found the britches,” she told me, then took a moment to catch her breath.
“Emma is rather industrious,” I replied.
Alice gave me an incredulous look, and for the first time all morning, I felt the tug of a smile.
“Tis time she had a mother, my lord,” Alice said.
The smile vanished and my dark mood returned.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Miriam Bathurst
“You haven’t eaten any of the chocolate I brought you.” Aunt Harriet’s voice was concerned as if my not eating the sweet was disappointing. I glanced at the plate of chocolates she had sat beside me earlier.
“I do not seem to have an appetite, Aunt Harriet,” I explained. Normally it would have been the book in my hand that had me so engrossed that I had forgotten about the sweets, but my thoughts had been elsewhere.
“Of course,” she said, her concern now more etched on her face. “Of course. It was very poor timing of your mother to request your sister return home. I am truly sorry your uncle couldn’t change her mind. That woman is rather stubborn,” she added with frustration.
I sighed. Missing Whitney only added to the pain in my chest, but it was as if my mother had known about what was happening here and that was her way of reminding me what I must do. What my responsibilities were. As if I did not think of Whitney’s future daily.
“Mother is a bitter pill I have learned to live with. However, for Whitney’s sake, I must find a husband. There is not time for me to dwell on… other things,” I said, more for myself than for Aunt Harriet.
“Nonsense. Alfred has sent your mother yet another decent sum of money. She and your sister are comfortable, I assure you. He wants you to take your time and find the gentleman that makes you happy. Marriage does not have to be for status or name, Miriam. You can marry for love. I did and it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I want you to have that freedom.”
Tears I would not shed stung my eyes and I forced a smile through the emotion. For I had already guessed that my aunt and uncle loved one another. It was obvious in their marriage. As much as I wanted something like theirs, I feared I wouldn’t be given the same opportunity. Unlike my aunt Harriet, I had fallen in love with a man who did not love me in return. It was a foolish thing to do and one I hadn’t planned on, but it had happened without my realizing it at all.
“I will be forever grateful for all you and Uncle Alfred have done for me. My time here with the two of you has been some of the best moments of my life. I shall always hold these memories close to my heart.” I could speak those words honestly when others I could not. For I did not believe I would marry for love but telling Aunt Harriet that would only break her heart. She was such a gentle soul.
Aunt Harriet closed the distance between us and sat down beside me on the settee in such a quick movement it startled me. Then I was pulled into an embrace, just before she began to sob rather loudly. I was not sure if it had been my words that upset her or why we were embracing. I patted her shoulder in an awkward attempt at consoling her, but I could not be sure that was what she required.
“Good heavens, woman, why are you mauling the child with emotion?” Uncle Alfred’s voice boomed through the room and I had never been more relieved.
Aunt Harriet did not release me, however. If anything, she clung tighter to me, clutching me against her as she cried. I looked over her shoulder toward him in hopes he could find a way to help his stricken wife.
“Harriet, dear, I believe you are traumatizing the child. Do release her,” he said more gently this time.
Aunt Harriet sniffled then and eased her hold on me before slowly pulling back. “Oh my, did I frighten you?”
I was not sure how to answer this. The wailing and clinging to me was rather terrifying. However, it was typical for Aunt Harriet to be loud and to do things with more exuberant emotion than most.