Could it be true that Jonathan had collected all of those shells for her? My heart skipped with admiration.
“Why on earth have you been hiding her from me?” My question broke the silence as we walked down the corridor.
Jonathan’s pace slowed. He held his breath for a moment before releasing a sharp exhale. “It’s my duty to protect my sister from harm, and that includes the judgment of society.”
I stopped walking, frowning up at him. “I am notsociety.I’m her sister-in-law.”
He froze, as if he had never considered that before. “Her own sisters are often ashamed of her, though they would never confess to it. I didn’t think you would be different.”
My heart stung. Our world was quite cruel toward anyone whose manners were not deemed proper enough. The reputation of a family depended on its connections, the success of the children, and their social graces. Penelope and Joanna might have kept their distance in order to protect their reputations. A deep sense of sorrow trickled through my heart. “I want to be different. I’m sorry you think so badly of me.”
“I didn’t—I don’t…” his words trailed off, and then his eyes met mine, his voice low and gruff. “You surprised me today. It requires a generous heart to overlook Margaret’s differences.”
A frown pulled on my eyebrows. “I have no wish to overlook them. I find her delightful just as she is.”
His gaze traced over my face, and I felt suddenly quite vulnerable under his scrutiny. Did he still doubt me? It wouldn’t come as a shock. He always doubted me.
I looked down at the floor, my face a little warmer than usual. This corridor—this very one—was where he had kissed me the night before. I didn’t dare acknowledge it. Ever. I started walking again, eager to leave that section behind. “Is Margaret the reason you decline social calls?” I asked.
Jonathan gave a somber nod. “The neighbors who are aware of her presence in the house tend to avoid a connection with our family. My parents spent years attempting to erase her from their lives. They never spoke of her. They pretended that she didn’t exist.” His jaw tightened. “In public, they declared that they had three children, never four.”
“How awful.”
“Yes.” He swallowed, meeting my gaze. “Our own mother abandoned Margaret to my care as soon as our father died. She moved to London and remarried. She writes letters on occasion, but that is the extent of it.”
My heart sank. “How can she be so cruel?”
“I have asked myself that question many times.” Jonathan’s eyes looked heavy—sadder than I had ever seen them. “I hardly knew how to manage an estate. I knew even less about how to properly care for my sister.” He paused, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features. “After my uncle learned of my mother’s actions, he took pity on Margaret’s situation. That was when he offered me his fortune. Its intended use has always been to give Margaret the comforts and luxuries she deserves. My plans are to continue making improvements and additions to the south wing, as well as hire any additional servants and instructors she may need.”
I listened carefully, my heart in my throat. Was this why he had been so protective over his inheritance? I wished I knew how to make him believe that I had never desired that money. But he knew the way I had acted; how shameless I had been in my competition with Charlotte. There was nothing I could say to convince him. His trust could not be earned by begging. All I could do was try to show him.
“I assume Margaret has use of all the rooms in the south wing?”
Jonathan nodded. “Yes, but some of them are still bare. She does have a music room, though she doesn’t play any of the instruments. She is very fond of music, though.”
“Does she ever venture to other parts of the house?”
“Yes, but not often. She takes most of her meals in the south wing, but on certain days I can convince her to eat in the dining room.”
“Does she spend time out of doors? If she loves shells, she must love the sea. The air would surely do her good.”
Jonathan hesitated. “I coax her outside for walks within the property lines on occasion, but she must be watched at all times. She has a tendency to wander.”
“I see.” I bit my lip, glancing up at his face. “But she never sees any other areas of town?”
He fell silent for several seconds. “No. But you must understand—I don’t hide her because I’m ashamed of her. I hide her because I have seen all the ways she has been misunderstood. I would rather she remain here, safe and happy, than be judged. And sheishappy. So long as she has her shells.” A faint smile touched his lips.
I lifted my index finger. “And her red jam.”
A light chuckle escaped him as we made our way down the staircase. I nearly skipped a step, surprised to hear the sound.“Red jam is essential to anyone’s happiness, I think.” He turned his gaze to me, a smile still lingering on his lips.
“What else does she like?” I asked, unable to stop my curiosity. “And what does she dislike?”
His eyebrows twitched upward with surprise of his own. “You have many questions today.”
I shrugged. “I have no wish to misunderstand Margaret. I want to know all that I can about her.”
His eyes softened. His steps slowed as we descended the staircase side by side. “She is particular about nearly everything,” he began. “She likes animals—especially frogs and reptiles—and views the same books and drawings of them on a daily basis. She enjoys dancing and music and has a keen memory for the steps. She refuses to have anything in her hair or on her head, so hair arrangements and bonnets are out of the question. She also enjoys painting.”
