“Come in.”
She half expected Jennifer again, but it was Jonah’s golden head that appeared around the door.
“Are you well, Esme?” he demanded, his blue eyes fixing her in a piercing stare.
She took a trembling breath. “I am not.”
“What is it?” He walked more fully into the room and gazed at her consideringly; his arms folded.
“I have a headache,” she answered honestly.
“You have not yet broken your fast. Jennifer says you have not been down.” His voice was accusing. “You are not even dressed.”
She was still clad in her white night rail, but the shawl ensured her decency. Esme would not be made to feel guilty.
“As I said, I have a headache.”
Jonah tapped the toe of his boot onto her wooden floor. “Mother always told me, no matter how out of sorts one might feel, ’tis important to rise up and dress.”
She shook her head, pouting a little to demonstrate her disinterest. “She never said this to me.”
“Most likely because she never had to. You have enjoyed good health and good humor for almost all of your two and twenty summers.”
He is insufferable.
“Jonah, I will not be lectured by one who shuts himself away from the world.” Esme rearranged her shawl and half-turned in the chair, so she was facing away from him.
Nonetheless, she sensed his chilly disapproval wash over her.
“’Tis precisely because I am so oft afflicted that you should listen to me now.” His voice grew hard. “Do not allow yourself to become self-pitying. It does you no favors. Forsooth, sister, I have always admired your resilience.”
She was too cross to hear the compliment.
“Am I to be permitted no peace at all? Even when my head aches I am expected to don a pretty gown and smile at everyone?” Esme tossed back her hair and looked fixedly out ofthe window, though the winter light was so bright it hurt her eyes.
“Exactly that. ’Tis little enough to ask, when others must sweep our floors and fix our fires and bake our bread.”
“You are a man of the working people now, are you, Jonah?” She raised one eyebrow, aware of his gaze upon her face.
“I am a man who observes what is happening around me.”
Esme was neither inclined nor willing to acknowledge Jonah’s fine sentiments. She only wanted him gone.
“Perchance you should look to participate rather than just observe. Then you might find occupation and meaning in your life.”
“I have already found both occupation and meaning,” he interjected calmly.
But Esme had not finished. “And you might stop meddling in mine,” she concluded with a note of triumph in her voice.
For a moment, silence fell between them. Esme opened her mouth to apologize but Jonah held up a restraining hand.
“I have oft said the truth is preferable to a lie. Therefore, I thank you for your honesty, sister.”
She rubbed her temples, regret swirling in her stomach. “Jonah, I did not mean it.”
She swiveled around in time to catch his short, polite bow.
“I bid you good day, Esme.”
