Chapter Six
During the céilí, Emma was introduced to Mrs. Paxton, Papa and Katie’s housekeeper.
The poor woman was horrified to realize she’d sent away the Archers’ oldest daughter.
She still looked mortified by the time the family all returned to the house.
Emma’s reassurances that she wasn’t offended and was at least partly to blame for not having simply told her who she was hadn’t eased Mrs. Paxton’s distress.
Being in Hope Springs was always going to be uncomfortable, but Emma had thought she might have a little relief from that in her parents’ home.
But she was both a stranger and a source of concern to the housekeeper.
Eimear didn’t know her. Ivy hardly acknowledged her.
And the house itself was different. An entire new section had been added: a sitting room on the ground floor with two bedrooms above it.
A small change, really, but enough to feel unfamiliar.
“You’re the first to use the new guest bedchamber.” Katie offered the last two words with a bit of pretended loftiness. “I used to clean them. ’Tis an odd thing indeed to now have one.”
It was an even odder thing for Emma to be a literal guest in the home she had grown up in. But it’s not my home any longer. I’ve known that for five years.
Papa set the traveling trunk she and Sybil were sharing on the floor near the chest of drawers. Emma and Sybil were carrying the bags they’d left on the porch.
“There are blankets in the bottom drawer of the chest,” Papa said. “And water in the washing pitcher.”
Mrs. Paxton had only just filled the pitcher before slipping from the room.
“We know perfectly well how long and tiring the journey is that you’ve just finished.” Katie gave Emma a quick hug. “Rest all you need and for as long as you’d like.”
Papa crossed to her next. “Two weeks will be too short.” He hugged her too. “But I’m so pleased that you’re here.”
She didn’t want to lie to him, but she also didn’t want to wound him. “I’ve missed you, Papa.” It was an honest answer; saying she was pleased to be back would not be.
After a moment, she and Sybil were alone in the room, left to see to their unpacking and prepare for bed.
Emma stood beside one of the beds just trying to breathe.
The moon shone bright enough to illuminate the silhouette of Papa’s barn outside.
Just her luck; the window provided an unimpeded view of it.
Two weeks in a guest room overlooking a place that still haunted her nightmares.
I don’t want to be here.
“Katie was so sure this room would never get used.” Ivy stood in the doorway, looking around the space. “‘We never have visitors, Joseph. ’Twill be forever empty.’” She did a shockingly good impression of the woman who had, essentially, raised them.
Ivy’s eyes only lingered on Emma for the tiniest flicker of a moment.
She hadn’t talked to her at all that night, hadn’t hovered nearby during the céilí.
Emma tried to convince herself that it was simply a matter of her sister’s tendency to be a social butterfly, flitting from one group to the next.
“Come in, Ivy,” Sybil said, patting the bed beside her as she sat. “I have an incredibly important question for you.”
Ivy accepted the invitation but with a heavy note of hesitancy. “What is your pressing question?”
Sybil leaned closer to Ivy. Emma recognized the mischievous glint in her friend’s eye. “Does Aidan O’Connor have a sweetheart?”
Ivy smiled. “Medicine is his sweetheart. He wants to be a doctor, and it’s all he thinks about.”
Sybil looked over at Emma. “A shockingly handsome doctor? My mother would certainly approve.”
“Are you planning to woo him?” Ivy asked.
Sybil made a show of being surprised by the question. “Gorgeous and he laughs at my jokes. I don’t think I have a choice but to woo him.”
“What you don’t have is time,” Ivy said.
“Two weeks is plenty.” Sybil shook her head.
Ivy looked over at Emma, but her expression was entirely unreadable. She had always been the proverbial open book. Not anymore.
“Who would Abigail and Victoria declare the crème de la crème?” Sybil asked Emma. “Timothy Warren or Aidan O’Connor?”
Emma sat on her bed, facing them. “Based solely on handsomeness, Aidan. I don’t know him well enough to say if they would prefer his company to Timothy’s.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen him in five years.” Ivy’s tone wasn’t accusatory. It was more matter-of-fact than anything and yet Emma very much felt like she was being charged with some misdeed. To Sybil, Ivy said, “Aidan is an O’Connor. They’re all kind and funny and sometimes really annoying.”
“How is—” Emma stumbled a little on the question. “How is Finbarr?”
Ivy shrugged. “He goes to the céilís sometimes. And he spends more time with his family than he used to.”
“That’s good.”
“Only if someone’s not paying attention,” Ivy said sharply. “He leaves his house and smiles about it, but it’s not real.”
“He’s pretending to be happy?”
Ivy stood abruptly. “People pretend a lot of things.” And on that enigmatic declaration, she left the room without even a glance back.
Her bubbly, cheerful sister was . . . angry. Or maybe disappointed. Frustrated. Emma couldn’t put her finger on what she was seeing. Whatever the reason for Ivy’s distance, it hurt. The ache it caused in Emma’s heart grew sharper by the moment.
“I don’t remember Ivy being so prickly when your family visited Baltimore last year,” Sybil said.
“She wasn’t. She never has been.” Emma couldn’t account for the change in her. “Do you suppose someone was unkind to her at the céilí?”
“I think that’s unlikely.” Sybil rose and crossed back to their trunk. “I’ve been to a lot of parties.” She flashed Emma a cheeky smile. “I am very popular.”
Emma smiled even as she shook her head at Sybil’s absurdity.
“Some parties attract people who are prone to pettiness,” Sybil continued. “Tonight’s gathering was not one of them. I cannot remember the last time I was surrounded by something so unapologetically joyful.”
It hadn’t felt joyful to Emma. That was likely her own fault. Too many worries and memories. She didn’t know if it was even possible for her to feel joyful here. Her gaze flitted back to the window. Sitting like she was, she couldn’t see the barn. But she knew it was there. Her heart knew it was.
Sybil set some of her clothes in the chest of drawers. “I am going to discover where Aidan O’Connor lives and ‘accidentally’ visit him.”
“No need to go on a mission of discovery. You can actually see his house from here.”
“Truly?” Sybil rushed to the window.
“Not from this room,” Emma clarified. “From this farm.”
“Will you point it out to me in the morning?”
Emma sighed dramatically as she stood and moved to the trunk as well. “I didn’t realize when you requested to have ‘an adventure out west’ what you were actually hoping for was ‘a flirtation.’”
She pulled out her night dress. Exhaustion had caught up with her very suddenly. Unpacking would need to wait until the morning.
“A flirtation,” Sybil repeated with a grin. “A bit of teasing. A few things to tell Abigail and Victoria while giggling. I have two weeks to manage all of that, and I don’t mean to waste a moment of it.”
Two weeks. That repeated in Emma’s mind long after they’d blown out the candles and the house had gone quiet. These first few days were bound to be incredibly awkward and difficult. Surely, in time, she would find enough of her footing to not be miserable through every minute of every day.
Sleep tiptoed over her. And, for the first time in years, she dreamed of fire.