Chapter Fifteen #2
Meg pressed her lips together and huffed. “I would like you to know her as well, brother. I cannot believe the two of you have been conversing with a complete stranger with no idea of who she is or what her intentions might be.”
He knew plenty about her. He just didn’t know some superficial details, like her name and her social status. “I know everything I need to. Everything that’s important.”
Winnie smirked. “Truly? Because according to that letter, there is still much to find out.”
The letter. His heart had returned to normal rhythm, but now it ratcheted up. Had Booklover agreed to meet him? Was that what his sister was referring to?
He dug it out of his pocket. The wax seal was already broken. He tore open the envelope.
Dear Captain,
Since we’ve determined that we are friends that can be trusted, I find myself wanting to know more about you. How do you spend your days?
He scanned the rest. There was no mention of meeting and his shoulders sagged.
A quick look at the letter’s date showed it was written two days ago, likely sent before he’d posted his last night.
Judging by tone, it had been written before her last letter, even. It must have gotten lost in the post.
“Well, brother? What are you going to do about it?” Winnie asked.
Reluctantly, frustrated, he dragged his attention back to the girls. “There is nothing to be done about it. She and I will continue to correspond without your interference.”
“But will you ever meet?” Jac’s indignation seemed tempered with curiosity now, her frustration falling second to her desire for gossip. “Now that the two of you are entangled,” she continued, “I must know who she is.”
He sighed. His sisters would not let him have even a soupcon of privacy in this matter. But what had happened, had happened.
“I have asked her if she would like to meet,” he admitted.
“And what did she say?” All three leaned forward, rapt.
“She has yet to respond.”
There was a moment of shocked silence. Then… “How rude.”
“Maybe she is only interested in a long-distance relationship.”
“Maybe she has a good reason for not wanting to meet. Perhaps she is not at all how she described.”
“Perhaps ‘she’ is a ‘he’ and this was a con all along.”
“She can’t be a ‘he.’ I advertised for a pen pal in The Lady. Men don’t read it.”
“The wrong men might read The Lady, Jac. Men who wish to ensnare desperate women into a confidence trick.”
“Are you calling me desperate?”
“Oooh, maybe he was after your money, Jac.”
The conversation had devolved exactly as he would have expected. Peter rubbed his temples. “Enough. She is not after Jacqueline’s money, primarily because Jacqueline doesn’t have any. And I think I would know if I were conversing with a man.”
“Then why doesn’t she want to meet you?” Winnie asked pointedly.
“Perhaps Peter came on too strongly. Exactly what did you say, brother?”
He tapped his foot. Meg noticed. She rested a hand on his bouncing knee. Sitting had been a mistake. “I asked her to meet when I wrote to her last night. Surely you can give her a few more days to respond before assuming that I frightened her off.”
Winnie snorted. “You are good at frightening people off, brother.”
“He is a master, in fact.”
“Do you remember Erin Farnesworth, and how we always had to visit her because she was convinced Peter hated her?”
“It’s because he doesn’t smile outside the four walls of whichever home we’re in.”
Winnie looked at him. “Is it a curse, brother? Does your face freeze the moment you cross the threshold? Does it take all you have to move your lips and that’s why the best you can manage outdoors is a grimace?”
She would marry. She would find a husband and leave the house and so long as she was happy, he’d have to endure her only a couple of times a week.
Meg waved a hand and Winnie quieted. “What is the plan, brother? What have you told her of yourself?”
More than he’d told anyone. “We have spoken of many things—the places we’ve been and the places we’d like to go. The things that worry us and the things that bring us joy. We talk about history and the future, and the novels we read.”
Jac cocked her head. “You don’t read novels.”
There was no good reason for those words to sting. Of course she would say that. He’d never read fiction in her presence, so why would she assume that he did? Keeping that part of himself hidden had been deliberate, and so he had no right to be hurt that his sisters didn’t know about it.
“I read novels.” He tried not to sound defensive. He half expected the ghosts of his former stewards to manifest and clip him around the ears.
“Since when?”
“Since childhood, Jacqueline. I read at night. In my room. I enjoy it. It eases the burden of my role. Is that a crime?”
Jac frowned. “Of course not, brother. It is only a surprise because we’ve only ever seen you with newspapers.” She reached over to grab his hand, missed it, and grabbed his leg instead. “It is not something you had to hide.”
Strangely, nothing in what he could see of her expression, nor Meg’s, nor Winnie’s, suggested disapproval or disappointment or disgust. There was no remark about the selfish use of his time, just thoughtfulness and what looked like a touch of regret.
Perhaps the implication of his actions hadn’t registered with them.
Meg wrapped an arm around him. “You’re entitled to do things for your own pleasure, brother.
I’m sorry that you didn’t think you could.
” Something in the way her voice softened and her eyes creased suggested that their relationship had just altered.
She would no longer allow him to conceal himself. It was unnerving.
The tender moment was broken by Jac’s huff. “We can share Booklover, if it makes you happy.”
Bright as always, Winnie straightened. “Tell us what you think she’d like. We shall help you plan the perfect assignation.”