A Matter of Choice

Chapter Twenty-Five

September rolled over to October. The trees were all barren of leaves, except for the beech which holds its dry and curling russet leaves all winter through until they are finally beaten off by the March winds and new leaves unfurl. Emily went out with Ruth and was pleased to see the improvements in the Grady's living conditions. The little children were almost clean, and Mrs. Grady's health was steadily mending. The baby was going to be allowed to return home the following week. They no longer needed the offerings of food as there was a stocked larder, but the solicitude was welcome. The only occurrence that dampened Emily's spirits was that they had missed Mr. Warrington's visit by a good half-hour, and they did not meet up with him anywhere upon the road during their outing.

That Sunday, Emily was very aware of him behind her in church. She continually found it necessary to check the urge to turn and look in his direction. At one point during the sermon her resolution gave way and she turned her head for a quick peek. He was wearing his brown coat and attentively listening to Reverend Chesterton. Emily turned to the front again and strove to catch up with the message. An inadvertent smile warmed her countenance. Lord Ralph glanced at her at just that moment and wondered what there could possibly be to smile about with the parson prosing on interminably. During the next two weeks the only communication between Emily and James was the smile they gave each other as Emily filed out from the church.

"Do you indeed insist upon accepting this invitation?" asked Maude Sidford.

"Yes mother," answered Emily. "Ruth would like me to stay after our charity work and join her family for dinner. It has been some time since I have dined with them and I would dearly like to."

"Who else is to attend?" asked her mother.

"I am unsure if there are others invited. Sometimes the reverend's students come for dinner."

"That is not the company I would like you to keep. They are merely the sons of gentlemen farmers, or less."

"Mother! His students are all very much younger than me, I should imagine, and I am betrothed, so it is of no consequence."

"Yes, but should it become known you associate with such riffraff I would not countenance it! You have mended your breach with Lord Ralph very nicely, but I should not want you to appear in disfavour again."

"There was no breach, just a minor misunderstanding. Lord Ralph does not mind me dining at the parsonage. His only comment was that he would rather it was me than him," said Emily patiently.

"But we must do something about that gig. You cannot drive yourself home in the dark! Send Alice home with it when you are done and I will have the carriage sent for you in the evening."

Emily smiled. "Thank you mother; I would like that very much." She finished her luncheon without undue questioning from her mother, or too many remonstrances about her choice in friends. It was a small matter then to prepare for her outing. Her mother insisted on her bringing a change of clothes for the evening and so she had Alice pack her muslin gown the colour of cherry bark, and she wore her new pelisse instead of her old one that was more fitting for visiting the poor.

After visiting two old widows and a lame shepherd, Ruth and Emily stopped in at the Grady cottage. They brought no more with them than a jar of bramble jelly and a rag doll for the little girls to play with. Young Tom came out and stood at the horse's head.

"I'll mind yer horse fer ye," he offered in serious tones.

"We shall be most obliged," returned Emily, knowing full well that Shadow would not stray, but pleased with the boy's initiative. Indoors they found the house slipping back into untidiness, but far removed from the previous squalor. Mrs. Grady was now making do for herself, but was still finding it a bit of a challenge. The two girls were crouched around the baby's cradle, but once they saw the doll they came running over to accept their gift.

"Annie! Our own babby!" exclaimed the older of the two as she cuddled the doll. The younger one tugged at the skirt.

"Me hold!"

"Mind yer manners an' thank the ladies," admonished their mother, and the two moppets smiled shyly at Emily and Ruth, mumbling their thanks before running off to the corner to play with the first doll they had ever owned. The two-year-old clung to his mother's skirts as she offered the only two chairs in her small room to her visitors. She thanked them for the jelly and all they had done for her, and expressed her happiness in having her baby home once more. She walked with them back to the gig where Tom was stroking Shadow's neck and whispering up at her.

"He do love animals so," she said of her son. "Mayhap he can work in the stables afore too long."

Emily placed a copper in the boy's hand and thanked him for attending to Shadow. His proud smile split his face.

"Thank ye, miss!" He stood and waved as they drove off and then ran into the cottage to show his earnings off to his sisters.

Back at the parsonage, Emily handed the gig over to Alice whose eyes were large with excitement.

"Have you ever driven a gig before?"

"No miss, not even a dog cart, but I'm sure I can manage. I have wanted to for ever so long!"

Emily smiled at Alice's eagerness and had no apprehension at letting her drive on her own for the first time because, in truth, Shadow would be in charge and take Alice safely home. She showed the girl how to handle the reins and then watched her neatly turn the gig and set off down the lane. The sun was low in the sky, but there was plenty of time for Alice to make the trip home before darkness fell. Emily rubbed her arms. Even in her new pelisse she felt the chill of the October breeze. Ruth was calling her from the steps and she ran up into the house and the warmth of the parlour fire.

Later Emily and Ruth were putting the finishing touches to their hair as they readied themselves for dinner. Ruth had on a pretty blue gown with a modest neckline edged in a thin band of lace. Her light brown curls were tied up with a velvet ribbon. Emily thought that she looked very becoming in the soft candlelight.

"Will anyone be joining us for dinner?" She had been wanting to ask the question all day, but hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. A faint hope had been in the back of her mind ever since she had received the invitation, but she had been unwilling to express it. She had not wanted it countered, but in the end she decided that if she was to be disappointed it would be best that it happen here while there was only Ruth to see her reaction, and if her hope was to be verified the same also applied.

Ruth paused in her placement of the combs that held up Emily's dark locks, and looked in the mirror at her friend. "I believe my father has invited his young student, Mr. Robert Turnbull." She noticed a perceptible change in Emily's expression; a flicker of dejection and then a bland, unreadable expression replaced the look of expectation in her eyes. "And James Warrington is coming as well." Emily quickly lowered her gaze, aware of Ruth's scrutiny through the glass, but the delicate blush that stole into her cheeks told the tale. Ruth felt that her teasing of her friend had been a little unfair, but she had discovered what she had wanted to learn. Emily was not indifferent to James Warrington. "He dines with us quite regularly."

"Mr. Turnbull?"

Ruth smiled at their reflections in the mirror. "You know quite well whom I mean. He dines with us most Saturdays. Have I not mentioned it before? I dare say it has never come up in conversation, but then you and I usually speak of more important things than social occasions. I think your hair will do very nicely. Shall we go down?"

Emily wasn't sure what to make of Ruth's disclosure. Did Mr. Warrington visit so often because of the reverend, or to see his daughter? She glanced at Ruth but saw nothing in her countenance to answer that question. Ruth was her usual placid self. Emily decided that she would watch the two closely this evening to see if she could notice any particular signs of regard between them. If it were so, she knew that Ruth could not have a better choice for a husband. She wondered that she should feel so low when all that she should be experiencing was happiness for her friend.

James looked up as the two girls entered the parlour, and felt his breath be taken away. He had been informed upon his arrival that Miss Sidford was to be dining with the Chestertons as well that evening, but that information had not adequately prepared him for the sight of her as she walked in the door. He had only seen her twice briefly at church since their meeting in the clearing by the river, and he didn't realise how much he had missed those impromptu meetings until she was actually before him. He had seen her in her old gowns with her hair out of place, at church all tidy and proper, at Wilverton, stiff and elegant, and by the river among the trees, serene and natural, but he had never seen her in the cosy comfort of the Parsonage's main room, her cheeks flushed and her grey eyes shining. Her gown was a silvery brown with claret lights that glinted as the muslin swirled. It was high-waisted and long sleeved with simple lines, and unadorned except for the garnet brooch at her throat. He felt that he couldn't take his eyes off her and was barely aware of Ruth Chesterton at her side. He rose and stepped forward, and taking strict command of himself, held out his hand in greeting to Miss Chesterton first. Then, when he felt he had gained the equanimity to look upon her again, he said good evening to Emily Sidford and introduced her to his assistant Robbie Turnbull who had risen with him and had been all but forgotten.

When she entered the parlour Emily sensed all the pleasure that she felt in Mr. Warrington's presence return to her. She could not say what it was about him that always put her so much at her ease, whether it was his ready smile, his warm green eyes, or his open countenance. She was suddenly struck by the fact that he looked anything but ordinary. He was wearing a coat of dark green merino and a creamy waistcoat. His thick, wavy hair showed chestnut in the candle filled room. He smiled a little crookedly and she felt an unusual twinge inside of her. As he came forward to greet first Ruth and then herself he seemed to be holding back some deep emotion. He made Emily known to Mr. Turnbull and then he escorted Ruth back to the settee. Emily looked after them. This is what she had expected to see, was it not? His happiness upon seeing Ruth; his attention towards her. She turned back to Robert Turnbull who she guessed to be a little younger than herself and was reminded somewhat of his elder brother whom she had met in the past, and attempted to subdue the unusual feelings of turmoil that surrounded her vision of her two friends happily seated together.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When they went in to dinner, Emily was pleasantly surprised to find herself seated next to James Warrington. She had expected Ruth to have that position, but Ruth was on her mother's right with Mr. Turnbull beside her. Reverend Chesterton had chosen to have Laura and Susan on either side of him, a distinction that made both girls feel very grown up. Francis sat across from James, and Peter sat beside Emily, close to his mother where she could keep an eye on him.

Emily quickly found herself in the middle of a conversation about the two dogs, Rover and Sniffer, which was initiated by Francis calling across the table to James, and brought to an end a few minutes later by Mrs. Chesterton who informed Peter that she had expressly seated him beside herself to prevent him from engaging in an argument with his brother. At his mother's request Peter apologised to Emily.

"I'm sorry for calling across at Frank in front of you, Miss Emily," said Peter, "but it is true that he does not know a thing about training a dog."

"That is not precisely the apology I had hoped to hear, Peter," said his mother.

"I do apologise for being uncivil," said Peter, and then he curbed his tongue to avoid bringing more censure upon his head, but he gave Emily a very meaningful glance. His mother quickly brought him into a conversation she was having with Ruth, thus averting a renewal of the skirmish. Francis, for his part, turned to Robbie Turnbull instead and began outlining all the good qualities of his old dog, Rover.

James smiled at Emily. "I have not had the pleasure of seeing you out on a walk these past two weeks Miss Sidford."

Emily blushed slightly and then looked at him candidly. He was struck again by the darkness of the ring around the edge of her clear grey iris and the slight tinge of blue that circled her pupil. "My father prefers that I walk in our own park at Barstow Hall. We have extensive grounds that he feels I ought to be enjoying."

"Then I shall miss bumping into you."

"I will still do charitable work with Ruth every Saturday; perhaps we will run into one another on one such outing."

"I do not want to be run over by a gig!" James teased.

"You would be riding your wonderful horse and he would prevent an accident, should neither of us be attending," said Emily with a smile. "Tell me of your work. Is the harvest done?"

"Yes, the crops are all in, and some fields have been planted with new strains of grasses to improve the soil. It has all been quite an interesting endeavour with the antiquated tools at our disposal and the sad state of repair of the storehouses and barns. I'd swear the seed drill we used was the original one Jethro Tull invented."

"I'm afraid I am at a loss again," said Emily. "I have no idea why you would be drilling seeds, nor who Mr. Jethro Tull is."

James laughed and then quickly apologised. "I'm sorry. I keep telling you things that are not discussed at dinner tables or in drawing rooms. I should know better than to bore you with my farming methods. Should we not speak of books instead?"

"I am not bored," said Emily, "and I should very much like to know who this inventor gentleman is."

"And why we would be drilling seeds?" said James with a distinct twinkle in his eye.

"Especially that," said Emily, sheepishly realising that she must have said something very silly in her ignorance.

"The seed drill is used for sewing seeds in rows to permit cultivation. Jethro Tull first invented it in 1701, and though the one we have is decidedly not over one hundred years old, it is at least fifty. The rotary mechanism kept sticking and caused myriad problems. I will have to procure a new one before the spring."

"If you pardon my interruption," said Robbie who had taken an interest in the conversation, "you will need more than one. I don't ever want to have anything to do with that particular machine again!" He grinned at Emily. "So this is how my employer entertains the ladies is it, Miss Sidford? With talk of seed drills and winter crops!"

"I find it interesting," she answered.

James was about to respond dampeningly to Robbie when Ruth claimed his attention. He turned back to Emily. "Do you still want to know about Mr. Tull?"

"Certainly."

"I have a strong affinity towards him, you see he studied at Oxford to become a lawyer and then, rather than practising law, became a farmer and devoted his time to agricultural improvements. I studied at Oxford as well, though not law, but then upon graduation I changed direction towards estate management."

"And you are interested not only in improving farming methods, but also the living conditions of the tenants."

James smiled in acknowledgement and they both were silent for a moment.

"I had heard," said Emily tentatively, "that you had intended to enter the clergy." She blushed a little and then continued. "You must not think that I was gossiping about you, it is just that -- well, people do talk."

"I can well imagine. I have been interviewed by Lady Prescott and your mother. A formidable team."

"Yes." Emily remembered the disparaging comments her mother had made later that evening. "But I do think you have chosen well; you have a great deal of enthusiasm for your employment."

"Thank you." James began to feel overwhelmed by their conversation. He had to remind himself that this was Lord Ralph's fiancée he was talking to, not someone that he had even a right to think of, and he was struck again by the sheer waste it was for Miss Sidford to marry such an empty headed lout, for all that he was a lord.

At that point the talk at the table took on a general discussion of the school that Ruth was hoping to establish. Her sisters both expressed an eager desire to teach there when they were old enough. Emily surprised the entire table my making an announcement.

"I have decided, Ruth, that when I am married I shall sponsor your endeavour."

Ruth stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. After a moment Mrs. Chesterton filled the silence saying, "That is wonderful news, my dear. Have you discussed it with Lord Ralph?"

"Not as yet, but is it not the duty of every lady to involve herself in benevolent projects? Do not they support hospitals and orphanages? I think that Ruth's school will be of great value and importance, and surely Lord Ralph cannot fail to see that."

"Bless you, Miss Emily," said Reverend Chesterton. "You have a generous heart. Your kind offer is very welcome and when the happy day arrives and you are wed, we will all sing praises to our dear lord for providing your patronage."

Ruth collected herself and thanked Emily earnestly. If only it could really come about, she thought. If only Emily could truly convince Lord Ralph to allow her to finance the school. Suddenly Ruth balked. She knew in her heart that Emily should not marry the man. Her spirit, which was just beginning to free itself, would become stifled again when she became the property of the Prescotts. Her existence would return to being dismal and unfulfilled. To wish for the match would be pure selfishness. This was the first time, in her recollection, that Emily had ever spoken of the marriage in such a positive light. Usually she would just pass it off as something in her dim future and not discuss it. Why now, of all times, when there were better options opening up right in front of her face, did Emily have to finally discover a good reason for following through on the betrothal? She looked at both James Warrington and Emily, seated side by side at the table in close conversation, and wondered when either of them would realise what was becoming so very plain to Ruth herself. Something would have to be done.

The ladies all repaired to the parlour as the men stayed at the dinner table to sit and talk over their port. Peter insisted that, at age ten, he was old enough to stay also and did not need to be bundled off to the nursery with Francis, but he was overruled. Laura and Susan, who would also have liked to remain in the parlour, made no demur and urged their brothers up the stairs with promises of games before bed. Susan challenged Peter to a game of chess and he rose to the bait, declaring that his sister would not best him again.

James declined both port and pipe, and instead relaxed in his chair while the good reverend launched into a theological discourse. Robbie managed to hold his own in the conversation proving that for such a high-spirited young man he was also a deep thinker. James found his mind wandering back to the question of the school. If Miss Chesterton needed sponsorship, he reflected, could it not be found in some other quarter? Although he realised that it was his counsel that had placed the idea in Miss Emily's head, he had reason to wish that another patron could be found for the school. He did not investigate his motives for such a thought, but he did contemplate broaching the question to his uncle. He found the possibility of his uncle's interest in the school somewhat elating; this feeling due, undoubtedly, to his desire to see Miss Chesterton's dream realised much more promptly.

When the gentlemen joined the ladies, Ruth invited James to join her and Emily on the settee, and then, after only five minutes of conversation, she excused herself to sit at the tea table and pour the tea.

"The other day while we were discussing novels," ventured Emily, "You mentioned your sister. Does she stay with your parents? Is your home far from here?"

"I wish that you could meet my sister. Mary is the youngest of the family, only sixteen, but I am much closer to her than Anne or my brothers. Our home is above a hundred miles from here, no easy distance, but we correspond regularly. My sister's letters are something that I look forward to. She is such a bright and cheery girl, with a great deal of insight and common sense. She is very mature for her age. I think you would enjoy each other's company." James' face clearly showed the pleasure it gave him to speak of his sister.

"I wish I could have had a sister, or even a brother," Emily added wistfully. "It is a very lonely existence being an only child."

"Even a brother would be preferable?" James teased.

"I think I would have made out very well with a brother," said Emily, "after all, I do get on so well with you."

"Am I like a brother then?" asked James, his expression becoming serious.

"Well, I suppose," answered Emily, blushing a little. "I have never had a brother, so I can only surmise. You are a friend at any rate, that I can attest to."

"I am honoured to be thought of as a friend, or even a brother," said James earnestly. "I take much pleasure in our friendship."

At that moment Robbie joined them, bringing a cup of tea for Emily, and seating himself in a chair by her side. "I have decided that you have monopolised Miss Sidford's conversation for too long," he said. "I have long wanted to be known to you but have never before had the courage, nor the occasion." He looked at Emily as he passed her the tea.

James cast Robbie a reproachful glance. He had never felt any annoyance with his assistant's high spirits until tonight. He sighed resignedly and went to fetch himself some tea.

"I often see you out walking, but I'm certain you have never noticed me. Do you enjoy the country Miss Sidford?" asked Robbie in his affable way.

"Very much."

"And do you prefer it to the city? To London?"

"I have only been to London once, and I have no desire to return at present."

"But London has many excitements, does it not?"

"The theatre, the museums, the libraries, the gardens at Kew, Richmond Park. These things appeal to me, but I can't abide the tall buildings all so close together, the feeling of being shut in, and the staleness of the air."

James longed to return to Emily's side again, but Robbie's words rose up to prevent him. Had he indeed monopolised her conversation? Would it appear unusual to spend so much of his time with an affianced lady? Had he been neglecting his hosts? He chose a seat close to the tea table where he was able to converse with both Ruth and her mother at the same time. Though he enjoyed the pleasant conversation he had with them he could not but help looking over to the settee from time to time and wondering what it was that Robbie and Miss Emily were speaking of so animatedly.

Emily could not prevent herself from glancing every now and then over to where Mr. Warrington sat, talking to Ruth. It was only natural that he had rejoined her, and they looked so comfortable together. She tried to appear attentive to Mr. Turnbull as he told her of his misadventures on his first trip to London the year previous, but her mind kept wandering to the couple at the tea table.

Ruth was disappointed. She had engineered it so well, but it had all come to naught. Oh well, she consoled herself, time was on her side. Lady Prescott was in mourning for another year and a half, and there were plenty of Saturdays yet to come.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Late November brought hard frosts; the fields were white with hoar throughout the day though the weak winter sun made a valiant attempt to warm the frozen earth. The trees stood stark and bare against the silvery blue sky. Sound seemed to travel far into the distance through the still air. Above the creaking of the gig, the crunching of the wheels on the hard lane, and the steady clop of Shadow's hooves, Emily could hear the beat of another horse approaching even before she could see its form shifting between the thickly growing branches of the barren hedge. It emerged around a curve ahead of them, showing itself to be a familiar bay horse and rider.

James rode up to the gig and greeted Emily and Alice.

"Are you on your way to the parsonage?"

"We are," said Emily smiling up at him. She was wearing a close bonnet, trimmed with fur and had a dark green scarf wound about her neck. Her face peeped out, white with cold, the only colour on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her breath hung in the air.

"The cold can't keep you from your mission." It was a statement and not a question, said with a tone of approval.

"As you see we are well protected," said Emily, motioning to the thick rug thrown over their legs. "Even our toes are kept warm with hot bricks. You must feel the cold much more out in the open as you are."

"I am enjoying the beauty of the morning and must admit that I barely notice the temperature. You did not dine with the Chestertons last Saturday."

Emily glanced at Alice who was staring off over the whitened fields. "It was not possible to come as we were entertaining guests that evening at Barstow Hall."

"You were missed," James said quietly. "Tonight I will not be able to attend. I have business in Worcester that will keep me late into the evening." Emily's face fell. "I have, however, accepted an invitation to tea at Wilverton tomorrow, after church. Should I expect to see you there?"

Emily nodded. James, not wishing to keep the ladies stopped too long on such a chill morning, took his leave and rode slowly off. Emily stared after him as Shadow started up, the intelligent animal knowing that it was time to resume the journey. Tomorrow at Wilverton would not be quite the same as a convivial dinner at the parsonage.

"Is not Mr. Warrington a most agreeable gentleman, miss?" asked Alice, bringing Emily out of her reverie. "The other servants all say as how he is a very fair master."

Emily looked at Alice, hoping that the girl would not gossip about meeting Mr. Warrington, but hesitated to warn her against it. She felt that she could trust Alice to say nothing that could be misconstrued. They continued on in an amicable silence, Emily enjoying the song of the thrush in the hedge. They passed a pond where the ice had been broken at the shore for animals to drink. Sunlight caught the discarded chunks, glinting off the jagged edges, changing the mundane to the magnificent; the beauty of the vision echoed by the wonder in Emily's soul.

"Mr. Warrington, so good of you to come," said Lady Prescott as James was ushered into the drawing room.

"Thank you very much for inviting me, Lady Prescott," he said as he bowed over her hand.

"I want to hear all about how dear Amelia is doing," said Lady Prescott, "come and join Maude and me. You know everyone else by now, I am sure, so I have no need to introduce you around."

James politely sat in the proffered chair and submitted to the two ladies' inquisition, assuring them that his mother had sent them her best wishes when she had last wrote. He failed to mention that she had also informed him of the exact nature of their friendship, and was fairly amused by their professions of regard. He surreptitiously glanced around the room to take in the assembled company. The general was sitting with Mr. Farquar and it was quite apparent that both gentlemen had dispensed with the tea and gone directly to drinking port. Mrs. Farquar was deep in conversation with a well-dressed middle-aged woman with whom James was unacquainted. Lord Ralph, Bertram Farquar, Miss Farquar and Miss Sidford were all grouped together, taking part in a lethargic discussion.

Emily looked up and gave James a little smile as he caught her eye. She hoped that he would be freed to join them before she took her place at the instrument. In due time the elder ladies' curiosity was satiated, and they were left completely without assurance of their hope that James had by now hired a steward to take over his duties. After he was released with strictures to run off and divert himself with the other young people, Maude Sidford turned to her companion and said, "I do not understand that young gentleman at all. Why would he actually want to be doing all that work?"

"He has been brought up very ill," said Lady Prescott. "For all that she has irreproachable family lines, our dear Amelia has a rather common streak about her."

"It is such a shame. I had hopes that we could match the young gentleman with Miss Sophie; he is not handsome though I do admit he is very personable, but, Penelope, he appears to have no prospects whatsoever."

"You are right, my dear. What Elspeth has told us is true, validated by the young man's own words. He stands to inherit nothing from Sir William, mores the pity. I think he had best set his sights on Ruth Chesterton."

"It could be he is already courting her. He dines at the parsonage very often, so I hear."

There was only one unoccupied chair, so James found it necessary to sit beside Bertram Farquar. "Ah, Warrington! Not much sport these days is there, old man? Ground's so hard fair cause your horse to throw a splint! Went out with Billingsworth t'other day and he parted company with that screw of his and near broke his leg."

Lord Ralph laughed. "Warrington, you should see the bag of bones Billingsworth calls a prime bit of blood! Never was such a flat as he when it comes to choosing horseflesh! I'll wager he paid a packet for it too."

James said something noncommittal, and paid his compliments to the two ladies. Emily was wearing her dove grey silk; rather than make her look drab the shimmering fabric emphasised her eyes, much in the same way the cornflower blue of Sophie's gown only made the blue of her eyes that much brighter.

"Oh Mr. Warrington!" cried Sophie. "Do assure me that you are not forever out of doors on estate business in this dreadful cold. I spend all my time huddled next to the fire like an old maid in her rocker!" She laughed and gave him a dazzling smile that set her brother into a choking fit.

"I have much to attend to and do ride out on the estate every day," said James, eyeing Bertram suspiciously, "although in the evenings I am quite ready to sit in front of a blaze with a cup of hot cocoa."

"Hot rum toddy, more like," expostulated Bertram who seemed to have recovered. "That's a beautiful stepper you ride, Warrington. I'll make you an offer on him."

"I would never part with Sophocles," said James.

At that moment the General called Lord Ralph and Bertram over to settle some dispute he was having with Mr. Farquar, and Emily took the opportunity to address James.

"I trust your business in Worcester went well yesterday, Mr. Warrington."

James moved to the chair that Lord Ralph had vacated before he answered her.

"It did, Miss Sidford. And how was the dinner at the parsonage?"

"We had an early evening as the reverend was feeling the cold," answered Emily.

"Business in Worcester? Dinner at the parsonage? What is all this?" asked Sophie eyeing them both eagerly. "How is it you are so wise to Mr. Warrington's pursuits, Emily?"

Emily gave Sophie a quelling look. "I chanced to meet Mr. Warrington on the road yesterday," she explained, "and he informed me he would not be at dinner at the parsonage because of business."

"Do you both dine at the parsonage regularly? How convenient," Sophie teased. She was about to say more, but James noticed Emily's embarrassed look and quickly diverted the conversation.

"My cousin, Percival Braithwaite and his sister will be arriving in two weeks," he said somewhat hurriedly. This was all he needed to turn Sophie's thoughts.

"Is Mr. Braithwaite Sir Edwards heir?" she asked expectantly.

"Yes he is, Miss Farquar," said James, pleased that his ruse had worked.

"Tell me, is he very handsome?"

"To tell you the truth, I have never met the fellow so I don't know whether he is handsome or not."

"Well he is sure to be handsome, is he not," said Sophie reasonably, "after all he is a very rich man."

"Aha!" said James. "So he will be considered handsome no matter if he is a quiz?"

"Assuredly!" laughed Sophie. "You really are too fly to the time of day!"

"And his sister, Mr. Warrington," asked Emily. "What is her name?"

"She is his half sister, Miss Olivia Rutherford, and I am afraid to say I am unacquainted with her as well."

"For a seemingly up to the mark gentleman, you know little of your own relatives," teased Sophie.

"They are actually related to Sir Edward on his mother's side and not really my cousins," answered James, "but I find it more convenient to refer to them as such for to Sir Edward we are all his family."

"Emily!" came Lady Prescott's strident voice. "Will you entertain us with some music please my dear?"

Emily rose immediately and excused herself. James watched her walk over and take her seat at the pianoforte.

"I am so very glad I am not proficient," giggled Sophie, moving to sit beside James, "or I should be expected to play whenever Lady Prescott desires as well."

James did not answer as the first delicate trills of music sounded. The melody soon swirled around the room, sure, intuitive, and intoxicating. Sophie tried again to get James' attention with an inconsequential remark and he turned to her and whispered, "It would be uncivil to converse while Miss Sidford is playing," and then turned back to gaze at Emily. It was a few moments before he realised that he had just called his hostess and most of the assembled guests uncivil, for the conversations in the room continued on unabated.

Sophie sat and sulked while James listened with increasing admiration, not only at Emily's skill, but the feeling that she poured into her playing. He could see that she was totally absorbed in the music and took great pleasure in playing. She looked up and their eyes met and held, and all the chagrin that James had been feeling towards the rest of the people in the room melted. She was not affected by their inattention; it was as if the cascading notes had freed her from the room and all its other occupants, save him.

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