Chapter 24
T he last of her guests lingered on the threshold, and though Joanna’s back and feet demanded she sit, her spirits wouldn’t allow her to rush Mrs. Queensbury. Despite having noted the waning hour and retrieving her shawl and bonnet, their conversation continued on with the lady standing in the entrance hall, and if Mrs. Queensbury wished to remain for another hour, Joanna would gladly welcome it.
The lady winced. “I do apologize for keeping you on your feet. You look done in and ought to sit, rather than listen to me babble on as I do.”
“I enjoy babbling, else I would’ve simply shut the door on you,” replied Joanna, but a jolt of cold fear shot through her at the sharp joke. It had rolled off her tongue without thinking, which was ridiculous in and of itself, but there it was.
Mrs. Queensbury laughed, and the knot in Joanna’s stomach loosened. Though she had suspected it was true, it seemed Edward had been correct that people enjoyed her far better when she wasn’t trying to please.
Straightening her shoulders, Joanna forced herself to be bold. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation tomorrow or the next day. And though I am well aware that it is expected that I pay a call on you to enjoy your hospitality as well, I find I love entertaining, and my home is quiet all the day long. If you came here, we could spend the whole of it chatting without interruption whilst Peggy plies us with the leftover cakes and biscuits.”
“And if I were someone else, I might feign shock at such a suggestion, but that sounds divine,” she said with a broad grin. “I love my children, but even with a nursemaid’s assistance, we will be pestered to death by my little ones wanting attention or sweets.”
In a trice, a plan was decided upon, and Mrs. Queensbury nodded in farewell as Joanna shut the door. For all that her bones felt as heavy as lead, she couldn’t help a slight hop to her step as she considered the fact that she may have just made a friend. A true and genuine friend!
Dropping onto the sofa with a sigh, Joanna rested her head on the back as a smile played on her lips. A pox on the Norman sisters, Lilith, and all the others she’d mistakenly called friends; they didn’t want an equal but someone too timid and self-effacing to demand better than being their lackey.
Joanna’s eyelids lowered, but her mind whirled with memories of those darker times. Had she looked as subservient as Sadie, bowing and scraping for a morsel of affection no matter the cost? But her thoughts grew hazy as sleep overtook her; some rational part recognized that it was far too early to go to bed yet too late in the day for a lie-down, but the thought was quickly stifled at the sweet feel of her muscles relaxing.
“Mrs. Vaughn?”
Joanna jerked upright, her eyes shooting open to find Peggy there. Scrubbing at her face, she fought back a yawn. “Yes?”
“I am sorry to disturb you, but Miss Vaughn wishes to see you.” With a pained expression, the maid added, “I told her you were otherwise occupied, but she insisted. Said she would wait if need be.”
Joanna rubbed her forehead. Her thoughts were too much of a muddle for her to manage a proper conversation, and she hadn’t the emotional fortitude for what was likely to be a difficult one.
“Tell her I will see her tomorrow if she wishes, but I am not up to visitors at present.”
Peggy maintained an air of decorum befitting a servant, but there was an uncertainty in her steps as she went to deliver the message. Joanna shifted in place, turning to stare out the window. From this angle, she couldn’t see the doorstep, but she enjoyed watching the horses and carts passing by as the workers began to trickle home for dinner.
A flash of skirt, and Joanna spied Sadie standing just below, looking up at her.
“I see you, Joanna.” With the windows fully open, Sadie didn’t have to raise her voice for the words to carry up. As there wasn’t an outspoken bone in her body, the lady didn’t give a defiant look or place her hands on her hips, but she stood there, patiently waiting.
With a sigh, Joanna called to Peggy to let her in.
“I warn you, I am not up to any serious discussions at present,” said Joanna as Sadie swept in and sat on the sofa beside her.
“I apologize, Joanna,” she said, wringing her hands with a furrowed brow. “There are plenty of excuses I can offer, but the truth is that I shared that information about you and Eddie—which is clearly unfounded—because I was desperate to please Betsy and Valerie. I cared more about them than my own family, and I am ashamed of my behavior. Please forgive me.”
Casting her eyes to the hands clenched in her lap, Sadie shook her head. “I don’t know why I allow them to twist me in knots, but no matter how determined I am, I always bend to their demands. I wish I could say it is entirely their fault, but I am the one who gives them that power over me, and I cannot seem to stop. I hate it!”
For all that her fingers were taut, the rest of her seemed to sag beneath the admission, and Joanna moved without thinking, her heart demanding action as she drew her arm around her sister-in-law’s shoulders.
“I have the same trouble, Sadie, and though I admit I was very hurt that you would tell them something that was bound to cause me pain, I also cannot condemn you for it.” Drawing in a deep breath, Joanna released the admission as her lungs emptied. “Had our situations been reversed, I would’ve done the same because I know what it’s like to be so desperate for connection that even the cruelest of friends is tolerated.”
With a huff, she added, “Your brother lectured me on that very subject not long ago, and I argued that any friend—no matter how terrible—was better than no friend at all. But I am starting to see the error of my ways.”
Sadie’s brows remained twisted together as she stared at the far wall with eyes as bleak as the moors in midwinter.
“And I will readily forgive you for your mistake,” added Joanna, causing Sadie to straighten as a spark of hope chased away the shadows in her eyes. “But on the condition that you cut ties with those ladies. Watching you today made me realize how miserable I’ve been when I approach others with the attitude that I am unworthy of their notice and that any attention is acceptable—no matter how poor.”
Straightening, Joanna turned, twisting to face Sadie better, and grabbing hold of all the lessons she’d learned of late and the epiphanies that were reshaping her world, she said, “We both deserve to be treated well and not exploited or mocked. It is so easy to think that the best I can hope for is someone who tolerates my company, but I am learning more and more that there are people out there who enjoy me as I am and not the sniveling creature I twist myself into. I have to trust that I am worthy of being loved if I am to ever find people who will.”
Joanna grabbed Sadie’s hands, holding them fast as she met her sister-in-law’s gaze. “And the first step is to rid yourself of people like the Norman sisters. Sadie, you are a dear, and you deserve better than that. We both do. And besides, we needn’t worry any longer about tolerating terrible friends because we have each other.”
Chin trembling, Sadie stared at her. “You still wish to be my friend?”
“Of course,” she said with a huffing chuckle. But then sobering, Joanna added, “If you do not break my trust again, that is. I am going to do better about surrounding myself with good people, and I cannot entertain those who gossip and tear me down. Even you.”
Though Joanna hadn’t meant it as another castigation, Sadie’s expression crumpled. “I promise I will never do it again. I would rather have your good opinion than theirs, and I’ve always wanted a sister. It is terrible having only brothers. I adore them in many ways, but I enjoy your company so much more.”
Joanna couldn’t help but smile at the absolute conviction with which Sadie bemoaned her sisterless state. “Friends?”
Sadie nodded, a grin chasing away the tears that were threatening to appear. But as she wiped her cheeks, she glanced at Joanna, a clear question bubbling in her brain, though she didn’t give it voice.
“What is it?” prodded Joanna.
“If we are to be friends, would you think it too presumptuous…” Sadie’s sentence sputtered to a stop, and her lips pinched together as she reconsidered it. “I was wondering… I wish to be your friend…and I am concerned…a certain issue of late…”
The young lady stuttered her way through it, and when Joanna gently nudged her to speak, Sadie drew in a breath and let her question out in one go: “Now that we are friends officially, will you please tell me what is the matter? Eddie said it was something to do with your father, but I saw your expression when you read that letter, and it was more than that. And you have been acting strangely around him. I know something is bothering you, and I know you have no one to talk to.”
Though they hadn’t been intended to be a killing blow, Sadie’s words struck Joanna deep in her heart. While she had far more company in Thornsby than she’d ever had before, with everything falling to pieces with Edward, it felt more and more as though a great gulf was opening around her, keeping her forever apart and isolated.
“I will not press the issue, Joanna. I promise,” she hurried to add. “I just wanted you to know that he may be my brother, but that doesn’t mean I am guaranteed to side with him. Eddie is wonderful, and I love him dearly, but you are my sister and my closest friend now. Those are important bonds.”
The secret pressed against Joanna’s ribs as though trying to claw free of the restraints she’d placed on it. For a long moment, her mind spun with all the possible consequences that could come from releasing it—both good and bad—and when Sadie looked ready to leave the subject alone, Joanna’s mouth moved of its own accord.
“The rumors are true. Edward and I aren’t a love match,” she whispered in a rush.