Authors: Anya Wylde
“What do you think that was about?” Emma
asked, pulling on her gloves.
“Who knows? Perhaps she offended him
sometime. The rich are often insensitive to the plight of lesser born. I am
ashamed to admit that I, too, have been callous towards servants at times. At
the time, I was unaware of the hurt I was inflicting. Still, it is no excuse.
We really must learn to be more sensitive. That young man is new here, and I
think he was in a better position until some misfortune robbed him of his luck.
He has not had time to grow the thick skin needed to live the life of a servant.”
“You grow melancholy … come tell me what to
do? I might as well learn something while I am here.”
Emma spent some time learning how to weed.
While she was pulling out the unwanted roots she asked,
“Whom do you love the most in your family?”
“You know I lost my parents at a young
age?”
At Emma’s nod he continued, “I was eighteen
at the time, and my sister only twelve. I suppose out of those alive she is the
one person I treasure most.”
“She is married to a marquis now, isn’t
she?”
“Yes, very happily married. They are
expecting a baby.”
“How wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her. I
suppose she was in the country due to her condition, which is why I missed
meeting her during my season in London.”
“Another two months and we will have a new
admission in our family. I, of course, intend to make sure we have our own
first born before she manages to conceive her next child.”
“It is not a race, My Lord,” said Emma
blushing.
“Oh, but it is, especially since I intend
to have at least ten before I am too old.”
“Ten children!” said Emma laughing. ”Surely
you jest.”
The earl’s eyes warmed as he watched her
face light up.
“I have been trying to ask you something.”
Emma sobered, hearing the strain in the
earl’s voice.
“I tried to a few times but something
always diverted us.”
“What is it?” asked Emma, her heart beating
fast. Something in his tone alerted her as to his intent.
“Emma, what are you doing here?”
Emma leaped up, brushing her hands on her
skirt, forgetting she was wearing muddy gloves. Mrs Barker stood with the duke
staring at her in shock.
Emma addressed the duke, “I was learning
how to weed. I intend to have my own garden, and this seemed the best way to
learn.”’
“I thought I told you not to wander out
alone.”
A flash of anger crossed Emma’s face before
it was quickly concealed. She hated the way the duke tried to run everyone’s
life, never allowing anyone, not even his own daughter, to walk unaccompanied
in her own home.
“I am not alone. Lady Babbage is sitting
right there, and I had asked her permission,” she said defensively.
The duke looked down at her face and
rightly guessed her thoughts. He let out a tired sigh and said, “Forgive me, I
did not notice her.”
Emma gave a short nod.
The duke waited for a moment before walking
away with Mrs Barker clinging to his arm.
“That duke …” muttered the earl, prudently
keeping the rest of his thoughts to himself.
Their pleasant moment together was ruined.
She spent the next hour staying silent while he softly pointed out some plant
or the other.
He could see she was not attending, and he
finally suggested that she should go back indoors. The day was becoming chilly,
and she was not warmly dressed.
Lady Babbage took Emma’s arm and they
started walking back.
“That gardener is not what he seems,” she said
idly.
Emma tripped, and after steadying herself
said, “whatever do you mean?”
“He is younger than he is pretending to be,
isn’t he?”
Emma turned to face her in shock.
“I noticed his face was not lined. He had
more agility than a man of his age should have had. Is he someone you love?
Someone you do not want the earl to know about?”
“No! It’s nothing like that.”
“I was young once and know what it is to
love without a care for status and riches. The earl is a rich man and an
excellent match. I perfectly understand your feelings, my dear. You can confide
in me, you know.”
“I do not know what you mean. I would never
do that to a man I was betrothed to. I am not having an affair, and I did not
notice anything odd about the gardener.”
A flash of irritation crossed Lady
Babbage’s face, and she tightened her grip on Emma’s arm. It took her a moment
to compose herself and say soothingly, “I apologise, I think of you as I think
of Catherine. Even if I am not your chaperone, you have, after all, grown up in
this household. Your parents may not have appointed me your guardian, but the
duke surely intends for me to care for you just as I do for his own daughter. I
have seen you every summer from the time you were born. I think I have earned the
right to caution you. I did not mean to overstep my bounds.”
Emma refused to speak. They were rapidly
approaching the house, and she quickened her steps. Lady Babbage had no trouble
keeping up.
“I have learnt to observe people around me
and understand them. I see more than people think I do, and I know that man is
a fraud. You, my dear, are still young and are as yet unaware of the world. I
would request you to be careful.”
“I thank you for your concern, but I assure
you, I am doing nothing that would shame the earl in any way,” she replied
nervously, and then hurriedly changed the topic.”Did you ask Catherine to study
human nature like you do?”
“I am often overlooked, and Catherine is a
lot like me,” said Lady Babbage, her face softening as she spoke, “that girl is
intelligent and a fast learner. I did nudge her in the right direction. People
like us prefer to watch rather than be watched.”
Emma eyed her sceptically.
“You misunderstand. We prefer such an
existence, and I know for a fact that it is far more fruitful and peaceful than
being the centre of attention.”
Emma, who had spent an entire season in
London trying to get noticed and feeling terrible at being snubbed, had a
difficult time grasping Lady Babbage’s meaning. She could not imagine how it
was more wonderful to be a wallflower than the belle of the ball.
“I have forgotten my needles, “Lady Babbage
said, interrupting her thoughts,” you do not need to accompany me back. I am
allowed to walk about alone. Go on into the house, I will see you at dinner.”
She watched Lady Babbage return the way
they had come. She had never realised the depths that someone she had known all
her life hid from the world. The woman was more complex than she had given her
credit for.
Yet, in spite of her protestations of being
content, Emma had heard the underlying tone of bitterness lacing her words.
***
“Young man, have you seen my sewing
basket?”
“It must still be on the stone bench.” He
glanced up to see a satisfied smile on the woman’s face. He realised his mistake.
He continued uneasily, “But you jest, My Lady, I have not been a young man for
years.”
“Could you fetch the basket for me?” asked
Lady Babbage, instead of replying to him.
The earl was annoyed. The woman could walk
the few steps herself.
“My hands are filthy, My Lady.”
“I do not mind. I am tired of walking.”
The earl walked the few steps and carefully
picked up the basket with the tips of his fingers and handed it to her.
He had often bid his valet to fetch him a
glass of brandy when he could have reached the drink himself by stretching out
his hand. He had never before realised how annoying his request would have been
to his servant.
“So are you a second son, or perhaps one of
her tutors?”
“Pardon, madam?”
“An old man would not have gotten up so fluidly
after kneeling for hours on the ground.”
“I am simply blessed with good bones, why,
my father …”
“I do not have time to play games. I know
you are courting Emma, and you are obviously not rich enough or of her status,
hence this charade to stay close to her.”
He stared at her, carefully masking his
expression. There was something cruel in her face as she spoke.
“I should inform the duke, but I will not.”
“That is very kind of you, but I assure you
that you are mistaken.”
“I am not mistaken, and I am not being
kind. I think having you under my thumb will work well to my advantage. When
the time comes, I will tell you what I want you to do for me.”
“You will resort to blackmail? It will not
work on me.”
Lady Babbage looked ugly as she answered
angrily,
“You need to think of Emma and her
reputation. If you spread such rumours, then she will be a ruined.”
“She has grown up in front of you. You
would never hurt her.”
“You do not know me or my relationship with
the girl. She has ignored me and my advice every summer. Unlike Catherine, she
never even pretended to like me. From the very first day, she has ignored my
existence, and I could not care less about her.”
“You can tell the duke if you like, but I
don’t think he will find anything out of order. You will make a fool of
yourself.”
Lady Babbage smiled and said, “So you
continue to lie to me. You will sing a different tune soon enough.”
She received a blank submissive look of a
good servant for her efforts in return. She stood for a moment looking at him
uncertainly, then shook her head and walked away.
***
That night, instead of finding the earl
hiding under her bed, Emma found a note:
Pickering did not take his nightly ale,
I could not dose him. DO NOT venture out alone to the duke’s study. I will tell
you more when I see you.
Yours Richard
“Yours Richard,” Emma grumbled. Why had he
not written love?
She crumpled the note and threw it into the
fire. She watched it burn and wondered why he did not want her to investigate
on her own. He could have written another line explaining.
She wanted to disobey him and search the
study, but the vision of Lady Babbage with the candle swam before her eyes.
She admitted to herself that she was not
brave enough to venture out alone. Taking the coward’s way out, Emma decided to
stay in her room that night.
***
“Your Grace, I compliment you on how well
this household is run. It is so hard to find good servants these days. Though,
I admit, I have never had any trouble dealing with them personally. My mother
taught me the art of running a smooth household. But lately I have heard of
servants putting on airs and graces, trying to act well above their station,”
said Mrs Barker
“My housekeeper deals with them. She is
highly efficient. I leave everything in her capable hands.”
“I agree, people of our class should stay
well away from dealing with their kind. They can be so temperamental, one must
not get too familiar with them,” she said, looking at Emma.
Emma fumed; she considered her maid Bessie
to be a thousand times more refined than Mrs Barker, irrespective of her status
in society.
The duke looked concerned at the direction
the conversation had taken. He had joined them for breakfast for a change. He
spoke now,
“Emma, can I request your presence in my
study after you have eaten?”
“Yes, uncle,” she replied, her heart
hammering.
This was it. Either the duke had discovered
the truth, or he wanted to scold her for chatting with the gardener like a
commoner. Neither option soothed her fears.
“Enter”
“You wanted to speak to me?”
The duke looked up from his desk and set
aside his pen.
“Ah, yes, Emma. Please sit, I don’t like
you hovering over me like that. Would you care for some tea?”
“No, thank you, I had plenty during
breakfast.”
“Are you happy here, Emmy?”
She felt tears prick her eyes at hearing
her childhood name spoken after so many years. Her parents still called her
‘Emmy’, but the duke had long given it up.
“I have always been happy here, uncle.”
“I hope you still consider this as your home
and know that you can confide in me if anything
troubles you.”
Emma nodded, not wanting to speak the lie.
He waited for her to continue, and at
length when she did not, he said, “I am concerned about you spending so much
time with the gardener. Do not misunderstand me. I have nothing against
servants. I value Pickering above a number of lords and ladies. I often take
his advice, and he mentioned how you have been seeking out the gardener again
and again. I know your intentions are honourable and I trust you, but servants
have an unfortunate habit of gossiping, and your preference has been noted and
commented upon. Even Mrs Barker hinted at something unsavoury regarding your
conduct this morning.”