“Ethos is only five letters long,” Patrick reasoned.
Arthur laughed lightly. “You two have fun. I want to check on Emma.” He turned to Jesse. “Coming?”
“I think I’ll watch them bicker for a little while longer,” Jesse said with a smirk.
Jesse and Giuseppe’s friendship was never not entertaining. Jesse would probably tease Giuseppe about this incident the next time they were alone. Or even when Arthur visited their home sometime. Arthur had been privileged to witness some very lively conversations between the two men over the past few weeks.
“Alright, well, come in whenever you’re ready. I’m sure Gertrude has started cooking,” Arthur said before looking over at Giuseppe. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Mr. Caputo. Patrick typically takes his meals here in the carriage house. You can eat with him there if you’d like, or the two of you can sit with us in the main house. Your choice.”
Giuseppe’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Uh, thank you. I’ll consider it.”
Arthur turned and headed back toward the house.
Inside, he found Charlotte practicing needlepoint in the library.
“Where’s Emma?” he asked.
“Upstairs. Reading.” She shot him a slightly teasing look—pausing her needlework and looking up through her lashes with a simpering smile. “Or writing.”
“Did she show you hernewspaper, then?” Arthur asked.
“Only briefly. It seems as though I wasn’t important enough to receive my own copy.”
Chuckling, Arthur plopped down on the cushion next to her.
“That’s probably my fault. I told her that we couldn’t print too many of them. In case they somehow found their way into the wrong hands.”
“I think that’s only sensible. Besides, I can read yours, I hope.”
“Emma probably brought Jesse’s and my copies upstairs. I’ll bring one to you later. I can leave it in my study if I can’t find you.”
“Thank you.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Arthur hummed happily as he leaned backward and melted further into the cushion. He only shut his eyes for a moment before he felt Charlotte stand up, and seconds later, something fell into his lap. He peaked one eye open. It was an envelope.
“What’s this?” he said.
“Your parents are coming tomorrow morning,” she explained. “The letter implies that they have something important to tell you.”
Arthur groaned. “Can’t it wait? Aren’t they coming for dinner in the evening?”
“Even if itcanwait, it’s not like you could reply to them in time to ask them to do so. Not unless you want to bother Patrick and have him bring your response right to them.”
“No, no. He’s having fun with Giuseppe. PerhapsIcan head over to their house instead,” Arthur suggested. “And then, when I get there, I can tell them that I’m not in the mood to see them.”
“But by going there, you will certainly still see them. Especially now, right before they have dinner. You know they’re home.”
“You and your logic,” Arthur said. “Don’t they know I have to take Emma to church tomorrow?”
“I’ll take her.”
Arthur pouted. “Why must you torture me?”
“Why must you always try to avoid your parents?”
Arthur sighed. “ Well, IsupposeI’ll have to endure whatever verbal lashing they want to inflict upon me in the morning, then.”
“I’m sure you can bear it.”
