Betrothed To Danger (2) “Well, I did not play a part in the arranging of the marriage,” she said, maintaining her happy air, “therefore I do not see the point of attending the rest,” then seeing her mother’s taken aback expression, she added with much less enthusiasm or care, “I will be in the church of course if it does please you mamma, but I play no important part in this marriage. You may carry on the arrangement without me.” Her mother turned to look at her daughter’s Governess in horror, only to receive a look that was to say no part would be played in the wedding by a Governess. Emma sat in her chair at the table indignantly, and smug. “Never have I seen such a display from one so young and supposedly so proper as you my dear.” cried the mother, utterly appalled and aghast. “Your father was a gentleman and no daughter of his will treat her elders in such a manner. Go Emma, only come back when you are certain you can act more like a lady.” Emma stood up, pushing her chair aside and stood tall. “I have no intention of acting the lady for you or anyone else who claims to know me better than I know myself. I shall attend dinner as planned, but do not think I shall attend the planning of a wedding I openly object.” She strode out the breakfast room and ignored her mother’s stern commands to return to the house and attend the planning of the wedding which she most certainly would not object to. As Emma paced down her gravel path, her face flushed and her eyes blazing, her mind was all on Will and the prospect of seeing him again. Ignoring her mother’s cries of “Emma James, come back here at once!” she breathed in the sweet country air and continued to the village. As she walked past a hedge, she saw an old man trimming the tops. As she watched, he sat down cheerfully and took out some sandwiches and a flask, smacking his lips as he lifted the sandwich to his mouth. On the verge of walking on with her nose turned up at this distasteful display of table manners, she changed her mind and called out pleasantly to him, “Good day to you good worker.” The man looked up from his sandwich and hastily topped his hat to her. “Morning Miss.” He eyed her steadily, unwilling to return to his sandwich whilst in her company. “Might I be the first to confess you have a talent in the art of hedge clipping, the birds will be simply delighted?” The old man blushed slightly, “Thank you Miss, it’s not much to be fair. All in a day’s work as me’ old dad used to say.” Emma smiled and nodded, unsure what to say in response to this statement and, satisfied that someone thought her a kind lady, returned to her walk in as good a good-natured spirit as before. As she strolled into town, her thoughts were already bewildered; she was taking in the people around her as actual people for once and not just people put there to help get what she wanted. She made an effort to smile at the villagers she passed and more than once received a polite top of the hat or curtsey in return which was a pleasing experience for her. How she longed to have Miss Taylor by her side nevertheless. Emma stopped beside a small shop selling buns and cakes. She felt around in her pocket to find a small amount of money, enough to by a cake at least. She entered the shop and a small ping announced her arrival. A plump man looked up from behind the counter and bowed quite low to her. She returned it with a small nod of the head and walked over to the man, asking very politely if she could buy a small cake without causing any trouble to him. The man smiled shyly and muttered it was no trouble if she would like to choose her purchase. Emma looked down at the counter to look at the cakes and saw a small boy looking up at her in wonder. Following her gaze, the plump man quickly stepped in front of the boy and apologised for him. Emma smiled and said courteously, “Not at all. He is a very sweet boy and will grow up to be a very handsome young man.” The boy was so very young, Emma assumed he could not understand her but the compliment seemed to reach him as he smiled at her, a very broad smile. He toddled forward and grasped Emma’s startled hand. His father hastily apologised and went to peel him from Emma who dismissed the apology and declared she was perfectly capable of letting a young boy hold her hand. The man sat down, quite embarrassed, and watched as his son dragged Emma out of the shop. Emma looked back, surprised that she was being lead into the street by a small boy whose father wasn’t telling him not to. Noticing her alarm, the man laughed nervously, “He’s just going for a wander, probably end up in the clothes shop.” Emma, hearing the name of the place where the man who had been on her mind so much was supposed to be waiting for her, allowed herself to be propelled in the direction of the clothes shop where she could not help but notice someone disappearing into the dark room rather rapidly. With a peculiar leap of heart that Emma immediately felt embarrassed about, she realised Will had been waiting for her, just as anxious to meet with her once again as she was to meet with him. She was sure of it. He had not disappeared into the dark room on her arrival purely from coincidence. He did not want to appear desperate to meet her. She was in no doubt that he had similar feelings towards her as she did towards him. She waited for him to emerge again. She would not chase him around like a fool. If he wished to see her, he would very well have to make the effort. He surfaced from the room, as expected. He had something on his mind. On trying to avoid getting the words out of his mouth, he glanced at a small boy in the corner. He was a regular visitor and was always welcome. However, Will at this point felt rather uncomfortable with someone so young being present in the room while he discussed with Emma his feelings for her. “Ah, Jack back again? Does your father know you are here?” Emma replied “This kind young man escorted me here, in the hope of obtaining a certain book; I see that he has recovered it so now he must return to his father, off you go.” As she talked, Emma looked steadily at Jack. The young boy got up rather clumsily and skipped out the room, his book clasped in his clammy hand. Left alone, Emma was suddenly aware that she had sent out her only sanctuary from conversation with the man who was staring in admiration at her. Will appreciated Emma’s intervention; he would have felt something of a tyrant to have banished the boy from the clothes shop. Today was different though, he would tell Emma how he felt before it was too late. Perhaps he was already too late, the engagement was on and plans had already commenced for the wedding. Perhaps what Will had to say would have absolutely no effect on what was happening, rather he may just embarrass himself and cause unneeded grief. Perhaps he should just keep his feelings to himself; he had no inclination as to how Emma would receive his admission. Perhaps he should have no need to tell her. There he had done it, he had reneged himself. He had intended upon telling Emma the true feelings of his heart, but now he knew that he would not amount to it, for he had not all the courage he wished for and often did not fully comply with all that he promised to himself that he would do. He was undeniably to his eyes a coward. Swiftly, Will realised that Emma’s beautiful enquiring face was fixated with his countenance, she had been surveying him, and he fancied that he’d like to know the content of her thought, but daren’t ask, lest she think him rude. So they sat. And however close they were, their minds were apart in two solitary worlds. Yet, somehow more together than they believed could be. They both had thoughts of the other saturating their heads, overflowing with no space left to think, just a jumble of thoughts and nowhere to put them. Finally Emma broke the silence. “So, did you read the new books? I heard they’re a blast.” And with that one sentence began a whole conversation, like a pebble dropping into water and creating millions of ripples. The two now talked more freely and carelessly than ever before, they connected in a way which Emma had never felt. They talked of books, music, writing and several other literature and academic subjects. They bonded so well that they thought not of the need to keep things from one another. They both, however, were not entirely truthful with each other. Will saw one setback nevertheless; he constantly felt inferior to Emma, for she was of higher status to him, although he had once been her equal. He was fearful that if she knew all the secrets of his past that she would shun him. He could not stand the damned Mr. Roberts taking away this one woman who he had managed to create a platonic friendship with. She was his. Will knew that he was normally not as possessive of his friends as this. He sat and pondered that for a while, letting Emma’s soothing voice talk of her uncles finance problem with a comforting tone. Replying every now and then with a “Definitely” or a “For sure”, Will listened vaguely to Emma and by the time she got up to depart from him, he had made up his mind to tell her of his feelings. He emerged from his big black chair he had been occupying, and followed her awkwardly to the door. Emma saw through the corner of her eye the uneasy look upon Will’s face, and when she reached the door, she flashed him a glorious smile and made to enter the street. Will hurriedly called after her. Emma smiled to herself before turning around. Several men were so predictable. “Emma, wait. I was meaning to say… well…” He drifted off into a confused silence, blushing a slight pink. Emma raised her eyebrows at him, her lips turned up at the corners. “What were you meaning to say Will?” Will looked at her laughing eyes and hesitated. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Emma was not at all surprised. She had seen his kind before. Sweet, sensitive and pleasant with each person. But when it came to making them known as the superior of the couple, they were trapped. They could be overpowered as easy as a child. Emma smiled at him again. “I will see you before long hopefully.” Will sat back into a chair and sighed. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I await that day with hope Miss James.” Emma left the clothes shop and Will got up to sort out some peti-coats that weren’t supposed to be sorted. Miss Taylor looked up from her books. Emma had glided into the drawing room in such a mood that she was singing softly to herself. “You must not be so content Emma. Anyone would you think you happy for the wedding which is to commence.” Emma laughed merrily. “Oh but Miss Taylor, how can I be depressed when there is so much joy in the world to be had? This blasted wedding is a minor hitch, but one which can be overcome by such a powerful mind as yours I am sure.” Miss Taylor shook her head despairingly. “To find such amusement in such an obvious disaster is a blessing Emma, and a talent of which I rarely see you possessing. So pray do tell me. Who is the one who brings you such delight?” Emma blushed and didn’t look up from her sewing. “I am sure I do not know who you are talking about.” She said adamantly and quietly. Miss Taylor was quicker than that though. “So there is indeed a ‘who’ to be talked about.” Emma looked up sharply, her mouth aghast, her cheeks flushed pink. Miss Taylor laughed. “You try to be quicker than the one who taught you to be quick. Not so wise a game Emma. And you play another game of the same genre I presume. With little more than three weeks to go before a certain wedding. Yours I might add.” Miss Taylor clucked under her breath. “Emma. Oh dear Emma. I find so much joy in your heart, a gift which I rarely receive. Please don’t let this game get out of hand. Mr Roberts is a powerful man. You can not allow yourself to toy with his affections as you do.” Emma looked away. “He has no affections. He does not care for me, nor I him.” She looked back and Miss Taylor could not help but notice a sly, smug look in her eyes. “I will be careful. Though it does seem harsh that when I find my happiness; which you and Mamma have always wished for, it should be taken away, by those very people.” Miss Taylor stood up swiftly. “Emma, I have always respected your wishes. I have taught you to love and learn. I have advised you on where to turn. How to propel yourself. But this is beyond my control. You can not reside with this man, whoever he may be, for you would be disrespecting your mother, Mr Roberts, and me. You must go this very second and tell this young man that -”. Mrs James walked in. There was a guilty silence from both Emma and her Governess. Looking from one to the other, Mrs James guessed both of them were hiding something. She looked expectantly at Miss Taylor, who looked down at the floor guiltily. “Miss Taylor. What is this suspicious silence for I wonder? Something I should know about perchance. Now what could I possibly need to be familiar with at this current time?” Mrs James turned her glare on Emma, who, instead of looked down, stared adamantly ahead, equalising her mother’s fierce glower and daring her mother to carry on glaring. Her mother gave her a withering look and Emma looked away, disappointed at herself. It was the little things in life that counted to making one feel mature and being able to stare down mothers was one of them. Emma sighed bitterly and leant back in her chair, staring obstinately at a spot on the floor in the far corner. Her mother tutted at her and shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed and her arms folded over her dress. Miss Taylor, still looking down at the floor, received a look of distaste from her employer and put her face in her hands the moment Mrs James left the room. Emma, looking over at her governess and said in a haughty tone, “I wouldn’t bother losing sleep over my mother Miss Taylor. The important thing is she doesn’t know and,” Emma looked down awkwardly at this, “and I am grateful. I thank-you for your silence and I know I must be dreadful at times, to you and mamma, but you do know, I don’t always mean it, don’t you? I get in such a fluster sometimes, and I must say, I feel quite awful afterwards and I regret it every-time.” Miss Taylor looked over at Emma trying to decipher her meaning. She smiled and sat down opposite her pupil. She took her hands in hers and leant over the coffee table. “I know you don’t mean it Emma. Though your voice is cruel and harsh, your eyes are forever soft, and I know it is not your heart talking. But Emma listen to me now, your mother wishes you to marry Mr Roberts” Emma made to loosen her hands from Miss Taylor’s grip but Miss Taylor tightened it instead, determined for Emma to hear what she had to say, “and there is nothing you can do about it. Just accept it. You will walk down the isle 2 weeks from now, and you will say I do. Do you understand me Emma?” Emma was looking up at her Governess, shock all over her face, in her brown eyes. She wrenched her hands out of Miss Taylor’s grip and stood up. “I don’t understand Miss Taylor, I don’t. One minute you are friendly, and kind. But now? Now you sound like my mother. I will not marry Mr Roberts. Father and you always taught me to believe what is in my heart did not you? Well, Mr Roberts is not in my heart so I will not believe this torment is real. But alas, you are in my heart Miss Taylor. I have to believe you even if my mind must strive against it, I must believe you. I accept that and I am ready to face the consequences of the decisions you make for me. Though why must you make it so hard? Can you not see the hate between Mr Roberts and me? Can you not see what torment will come about if that man’s ring I am to wear?” Emma paused and looked over at Miss Taylor who was in a determined silence, which, annoying Emma drove her to carry on. “I never believed I would see the day, nay, even could see the day when you were wrong Miss Taylor. But this time you are morally wrong, and what is more, you refuse to look beyond your orders, you refuse to see what you can do to stop this. If you let my mother bully you into this, you will lose me as a friend Miss Taylor. You will have to advise me on what to do, as it is your job, but do not expect the friendly night time visits, or the walks into town, or the card games in the evenings. Do not expect to see my smile. “Please Miss Taylor. Tell me you would not make me marry this man. Deny the accusations I place you under.” Emma, standing in front of Miss Taylor saw her look down. Saw her place her face in her hands once again and heard her say how truly sorry she was. Miss Taylor looked up and Emma saw no expression in her eyes. No laugh and no smile. She wasn’t happy Emma would marry Mr Roberts yet she wasn’t regretful, and she wasn’t going to help her overcome defeat Mr Roberts either. Emma took into account all these things and still couldn’t believe it. Miss Taylor stared continually ahead, not moving and Emma felt her stomach drop. She turned on the spot and ran upstairs. Her friend, her teacher, the only person who could help her had betrayed her. Emma fell on her bed and felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She hurriedly wiped them away, only for them to be replaced by more. Downstairs, Miss Taylor sat frigid, no expression on her face, unable to believe what she had done. Mrs James’s hand sat on her shaking shoulder. “It’s for the best Miss Taylor, all for the best I’m sure. She’ll come around soon. You wait. Now you are not encouraging her, she won’t be able to wait to come down that isle and she will be rich and settled. And I will be a rich woman with high connections. Envied by that nasty piece of work over in Hazel Lodge. And to think! Her daughter married that Mr Leetry. To be sure, he may be rich, but only because his parents own a company in London. But I am certain Mr Roberts is far more agreeable than that obsequious beast.” Miss Taylor dearly wanted to say “She would never walk down that isle” but was too appalled at herself to even speak so sat in bitter silence, formulating a day plan for the morrow. When Emma did not arrive at breakfast the following morning, much to the annoyance of Mrs Harford who had specially prepared Emma’s favourite breakfast by order of Mrs James who apparently wanted to win back her daughters affections, Miss Taylor looked at her schedule and decided to carry on alone. She had worked on it through most of the night, mostly to block out the thoughts circulating in her mind. They were the types of thoughts that if left to brood on could torment the occupier of the mind so much so, that they would forever think about it. Miss Taylor certainly had better things to be thinking of so she took her bonnet and walked out the door, which added to the annoyance of Mrs Harford who had arranged a special meal for Miss Taylor too. Mrs James looked up from her tea and inquired as to where she was going. “I heard her saying she was going down to the town today Ma’am. Said she needed a new bonnet Ma’am.” Said a passing maid, bowing clumsily. “Oh. I didn’t notice her old one was less than satisfactory. Did you Mrs Harford?” “No Ma’am” said Mrs Harford matter-of-factly. Mrs James pondered this for a second and then went back to her tea. It felt good to be out. The spring breeze made the trees rustle above her and the gravel crunched pleasantly beneath her feet. Seeing a carriage coming up over the hill toward her, Miss Taylor edged over to the side of the path as much she could without getting her petticoats dirty. Purely out of curiosity, as the carriage passed her, she glanced up to see who was riding in it. Immediately wishing she hadn’t and looking away sharply so as not to be noticed, she saw the proud figure of Mr Roberts. He had obviously seen her as he ordered the driver of the carriage to pull over. He called out to her, wanting to know who he had forced to move over. Reluctantly, Miss Taylor lifted her head and looked into his black eyes. Upon noticing who it was, his face was of mixed feeling. He still portrayed his overconfidence and arrogance, but he also seemed surprised. Miss Taylor continued looking up at him. She wished she wouldn’t, but she could not help it, there was something in his eyes for that brief second before he gathered himself which she could not make out and it bothered her so. It may have been anger, or possibly even embarrassment, Miss Taylor couldn’t tell. She became aware, suddenly lost in her thoughts, that he had lowered his hand toward her, inviting her into his carriage. “I’m quite alright sir.” She said obstinately. “No indeed, I insist. Young ladies such as yourself should not be walking these paths alone. One never knows who may be waiting around the corner for you.” “I am sure I am very well Mr Roberts. It is only a short walk from here to the town. I will be perfectly safe, but thank-you for your concern.” Mr Roberts withdrew his hand and looked at her suspiciously. Then, his expression changed and he got down from his carriage offering her his arm.
Copyright © 2003 Emma Trew |