Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

" A re you certain it's wise?" Emily stopped kneading the bread dough while thoughts whirled in her head like a disturbed nest of bees. Allow Christian to spend a week with Jacob? How could her parents be all right with this? Did Jacob know how to care for a five-year-old? What if Christian scraped his knee? Jacob would need to tend to it, not fall into a faint. What if Christian had a nightmare? Would Jacob know what to pray with him?

What if Christian enjoyed himself so much with Jacob that he wanted to live with him?

She pressed her lips together to hold back her trembling and punched her fist into the bread dough, mixing the yeast.

"It's natural for Christian to want to know more about his father." Mama finished chopping vegetables and scraped them into the soup pot while Mrs. Hayes polished the silver. "Your papa and I have discussed this at length. It's only for a week. Christian will be back before church on Sunday. It's honorable that Lord Warren wants to be a part of his son's life."

Emily forced measured breaths even though she felt far from calm. "But what if he wants to take Christian from us? Aren't you worried?"

"Of course, but we must be obedient to the Lord's will and trust Him. Just as Abraham did when he was told to sacrifice His son, Isaac. Abraham was tested, but he trusted God would make a way, and God provided a ram to take Isaac's place. God intends the best for Christian."

Mama was right, but it didn't ease the urge for Emily to pound her fists and rile at Jacob for interfering in their lives.

"And it's commendable that Lord Warren wants to learn more about his son." She stirred the soup. "I don't understand why you're so opposed to this. I thought you were taken with Lord Warren, and he with you?"

"Taken?" Emily froze mid-knead, and heat rushed to her cheeks. "What gave you that impression?"

"I have eyes, my love." Her mother smiled at her. "But you keep fighting the feelings God has placed inside you as if you've condemned any attraction as a sin."

Emily drew her chin back. "Mama!"

"Attraction is part of loving someone. God put the feeling in us to draw us into a deeper relationship with others." She shook the stirring spoon at Emily. "However, we are not to act on foolish impulses. Passion is kept for the holy sacrament of marriage."

The tips of Emily's ears burned as though they'd caught fire. She focused on pounding the dough.

But Jacob's dashing physical features weren't the sole reason for her attraction. Peter was considered very handsome, but she'd never felt a pull between them, not as she did with Jacob. She loved Jacob's witty banter, how he played with Christian, his desire to become a better father and person, and his hunger to know more about the Lord.

And how he made her feel as though she was someone worth pursuing—like a precious treasure he'd search any length to find. Much as he had for Christian.

She gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth, stopping before sticky bread dough touched her face.

She loved Jacob.

Her hands shook as she placed the dough in the bread pan and covered it with a cloth to rise.

Mama chatted with Mrs. Hayes as Emily washed up in the sink. She shook off the excess water and dried her hands on her apron before stepping outside into the sunshine.

Christian was chasing a runaway sheep back into the pen. Hopping up on the gate, he rode the swinging door closed.

His prayer from last night echoed in her mind. Lord, please marry Lord Warren and Em so we can be a family.

She pressed her apron to her face. Oh Lord, was that her prayer too?

Her heart screamed a resounding, Yes!

A lump had wedged in Emily's throat, making swallowing a challenge as she guided Christian through the open gates of Brownstone Hall. Papa had spoken with Jacob and arranged for Christian to stay the week with Lord Warren. Her grip on Christian's hand tightened. "You're going to have a splendid time."

"I know." Christian skipped beside her.

She'd awoken this morning before sunrise, feeling as though the picture she'd carefully drawn of her life had become a blank white canvas. She had the paints and brushes, but did she dare try the bold, vibrant colors that she longed to see or stick to the browns and earth tones people were used to?

God had answered with a bright and brilliant sunrise.

She would allow Jacob to court her. She'd tell him so today.

Christian rambled on about the things he was going to do with his father as he skipped down the drive, but before they reached the front steps, he paused and peered up at her. "Can I call him Papa?"

"Not yet." Gossip could spread that would hurt Christian's future. "Let's think of these next couple of days as an apprenticeship, like how Samuel is apprenticing to be a vicar. That way, we can all be certain what path to take."

Christian frowned. "You told me God doesn't make mistakes."

"He doesn't." Emily lowered the knapsack she'd been carrying for Christian and crouched level with him. "His ways are perfect."

"God brought Lord Warren to Sylvanwood." He placed a hand on Emily's shoulder. "So everything's good. You can stop worrying."

She chuckled. "How did you become so wise?" Rising, she gripped his hand. "You're right. I need to trust in God's plan."

Inhaling a deep breath, she slung the knapsack over her shoulder, climbed the steps to the main entrance, and rapped the heavy brass knocker.

Inside, the elderly butler's snore resounded even through the thick oak door.

She rapped again, and the snore broke with a sleepy grunt. Shuffle steps approached, and Maslow cracked the door open, peeking at them down his aquiline nose.

"Good morning, Maslow." Emily raised her voice to a half shout for the near-deaf butler.

He swung the door wide. "Good morning, Miss Thompson and Master Christian. His lordship is expecting you. Follow me."

She trailed the man, who walked with a shuffle step. Christian glanced at her with a can't-he-go-faster look. She twisted her lips into a half smile that she hoped conveyed the need for patience.

Maslow guided them down the hall and past the solarium, where Jacob's painting stared back at them, finished but still on the easel. He stopped at a door on the left and gestured for them to enter.

Emily swallowed and entered the room, gripping Christian's hand.

Jacob sat behind a large mahogany desk with several ledger books open.

Her breath caught, seeing him in his white cambric shirt, knotted cravat, and dark-gray waistcoat, looking serious and very much like a meticulous, landholding gentleman.

He jotted a number before setting the quill back in the inkwell and peering up at them. His gaze met hers, and something flashed in those blue depths. Anger? Disappointment? Disapproval? She couldn't decipher, for it passed quickly, but it was certainly not delight to see her.

Anxiety swirled in her middle. Had she done something to displease him? Had she lost her chance?

"Good morning." Jacob rose, and his gaze lowered to Christian. His familiar smile quirked one side of his mouth, and he saluted. "Good to see you, Captain."

Christian returned the salute. "And you, Captain."

He rounded his desk and rang the bell pull. Leaning his hip on the corner of the mahogany wood, he crossed his arms. "Jolly good idea to come and stay for a bit. I'm delighted and have cleared my schedule so we can make the most of our time together. Just you wait for what I have planned."

Christian wiggled out his excitement and did a little hop in place.

"Lady Athol is also thrilled to host such a special guest." He nodded to someone in the hall, and Emily turned to spy Lady Athol and a servant standing in the doorway. She greeted Lady Athol with a curtsy and their usual wave.

"Before we can begin, I must first speak with your sister. Lady Athol, my aunt and your great aunt, will give you a tour of Brownstone Hall and show you your bedchamber."

"Pleased to meet you." Christian bowed and Lady Athol curtsied.

The servant extended her hand, and Emily passed the woman Christian's knapsack.

"Make the kitchen the last stop," Jacob said, "and see if you can pilfer a few muffins as they come out of the oven. He'll need to eat before we ride."

"Ride?" Christian jumped in the air and pumped a fist. "Huzzah!"

Lady Athol gripped his hand, and Christian skipped beside her down the hall.

Emily turned to Jacob. "I have something I wanted to tell you too."

His smile faded, and his face hardened into granite. He returned to his chair behind his desk and gestured to her. "Be seated."

She lowered into the chair. He was definitely angry. But why?

He closed the ledgers, setting them aside, and laced his fingers, leaning forward over the desk. His stern gaze locked on her. "When did you know Miss Dorsham was in a family way?"

J acob had interrogated plenty of guilty parties, and Emily Thompson squirmed like the worst of them. She pressed her palms into the chair cushion, pushing herself farther upright, but her gaze no longer met his. Instead, she focused on his shirtfront.

Her lips parted as if to speak but closed again. She swallowed, and her lips trembled.

He read the guilt on her face before she even spoke. She was an easy read and should stay away from the gambling tables.

"She told me after our first painting session."

His jaw clenched. "You knew and still tried to convince me to pursue her?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You tried to deceive me, hoping to pawn off another man's child as my own."

"She told me the baby was yours. I didn't know otherwise until our last session." She shook her head with enough vehemence that a loose lock of hair whipped back and forth.

"Yet you still tried to convince me of her attributes. ‘Phoebe is a beautiful woman of means. A woman society and your family would approve of.'"

"I would have told you."

" When would you have told me?" He pounded a fist on the desk, startling her. The memory of his mother jumping at his father's shout should have reined in Jacob's temper, but he didn't want to control it. He'd given Emily his heart, and she had betrayed him. "After your father pronounced Miss Dorsham and I man and wife, or the morning after we'd consummated the marriage?"

"I didn't fear that would happen because you showed no interest in Phoebe."

"Did you think a baby and another family would distract me from Christian? Do you not know me? I've searched the whole kingdom to find him. Do you think I'm not a good enough father for him? If so, I'm surprised you didn't talk your parents out of this visit."

Tears pooled in Emily's eyes. She looked to the side and shook her head. "I was frightened you'd take him back to London with you, and we'd never see him again."

Her confession blew away the heat of his ire. He'd been devastated when Sarah ran away with their child. Wouldn't the Thompsons feel as upset if he'd run off with Christian, even more so since they'd had a chance to know and raise him for five years?

Emily bit her lip and wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her gloves. "I promised Phoebe I wouldn't reveal her condition, but I was uncomfortable with what she was trying to do. I'd planned to tell you if you showed an interest in her. Phoebe pleaded for my help, but I never thought her plan would work. She must marry and quickly, or else she'll be ruined."

"What about the poor chap she'll fool next? Doesn't he deserve to know? Shouldn't Phoebe face the consequences of her actions? If she doesn't, what will keep her from further indiscretions?" Lord Copeland's desperate voice rang in his ears. I made a mistake. I was hurt and lonely. What would you have me do?

Should the babe's father get away without punishment?

"The child is innocent. Christian and I were fortunate that the Thompsons took us in. Most orphans end up in workhouses or as street urchins, picking pockets to stay alive. What if the child could have a chance to lead a normal life?"

Jacob puffed his cheeks and exhaled a breath. He was uncomfortable allowing trickery, but he knew in his bones that Emily was too. She'd worked to earn a pristine image and undo the tarnish her mother's actions created. But if her mother hadn't fallen from grace, would Emily have even been born? "I guess we'll need to trust God to determine what is best in this situation."

Emily bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"Life is messy." He grunted. "People are messy. We make mistake after mistake, failing God in many ways, but He pulls us out of the mire and cleans us off, anyway."

Emily stared at her hands, picking at a bit of paint staining her wrist above the glove line.

Christian ran into the room. "Em, have you seen this place? It's huge." He held both arms stretched out wide. "They have a pond and a big stable under repair, but it has eight horses and more to arrive. We're going to have the best time ever."

"Indeed." He tussled Christian's hair. This week he'd focus on getting to know his son better. No distractions.

E mily swallowed around the lump in her throat. Earlier, she'd been nervous but hopeful, but after Jacob's accusations, she felt like a tulip whose petals had blown off. Nothing but a naked stem remained. She reminded herself that God was in charge, and His ways were higher than her ways. Even tulips would re-bloom again year after year. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd squandered her chance at happiness.

She knelt in front of Christian, straightening the lapels of his tiny jacket. "Now, you be good for Lord Warren. Remember your manners, and be on your best behavior. No running off, and no complaining if you don't like something on your plate."

Jacob approached and placed a hand on Christian's shoulder.

Christian leaned in and whispered in Emily's ear. "But what if they serve Brussels sprouts?"

Jacob chuckled. "No worries, Cap. I've banned the cook from making them."

A burst of weak laughter spilled from her lips. She blinked away the sting of tears that burned the back of her eyes. "Sometimes he has bad dreams."

Jacob nodded. "I did, too, as a lad."

"And he has tutoring with the Danburys' youngest son on Wednesday."

"I'll mark it on the schedule."

"Well, then." She exhaled. "I guess I'll be going."

Christian wrapped his arms around her waist. "Bye, Em. I love you and Mama and Papa too. Don't worry. I'll be back."

She hugged his blond head. "I love you too."

He dropped his arms, and she reluctantly let go, choking back a sob.

"Why don't we see your sister to the door?"

Christian nodded. "That's what gentlemen do."

Jacob raised his elbow, and she looped her hand through it. They exited the office and strolled the hallway. "You have my permission to come by at any time."

"Thank you." She sniffed and blinked up at the ceiling. "Leaving him is harder than I expected."

He patted her hand. "I understand."

Maslow swung the door wide.

Jacob paused. "Would you like to take my carriage home?"

"I'd prefer to walk. I have a lot to consider." She released his arm but turned to him before stepping out the door. The words stuck in the tightness of her throat, but she forced them out. "I'm sorry. I never meant to deceive you."

He nodded with a grim twist to his mouth. "Good day, Miss Thompson."

She ran a hand alongside Christian's face. "Have a lovely time."

Turning before they spotted her tears, she trotted down the front steps. Every muscle in her body locked up tight to hold back her emotions. Christian would be back at week's end, and she and Jacob…

Things hadn't gone as she'd hoped, but at least they could be friends.

"Hey, Em!" Christian yelled.

She pivoted to find Christian and Jacob on the front steps.

Christian cupped a hand around his mouth. "Don't give Papa an answer about marrying Mr. Mathis. I'm still praying."

Jacob's head snapped in Christian's direction and then in hers. His eyes widened, but he said nothing.

A long, awkward moment passed, with the two of them staring at each other. What did she expect him to do? Run after her and beg her not to marry Mr. Mathis but to marry him instead? Really? After their argument over helping Phoebe trick him?

She forced herself to turn and walk down the lane but allowed her tears to fall.