Page 17 of Christmas Wore Plaid

Emerson stood and peered in the box. She picked up a stack of letters and splayed them like a hand of cards, flipping through the addresses. They were letters entirely from her Uncle Frederick to her aunt. Why would her aunt have seen fit to save so many? Surely his letters hadn’t been flowery and sentimental—her uncle, though kindly, had hardly been the sort of man at ease with his affections for others. His stiff upper lip had prevented him from giving her more than a gentle pat on the head and an approving nod when she played a piano piece with no mistakes.

She dropped all but one back in the box, and pulled the parchment out, unfolding it:

“My dearest sister, Bess,

As you know, it’s been months, and Emerson is gaining strength every day. She eats again, and can swallow without pain. With the worst of the scarlet fever passed, I have no doubt she’ll make a full recovery. She even smiles.” Emerson smiled now. “But I’ve grown concerned by the amount of letters arriving for her from the boy, Brady MacInnes, and the letters she gives me to have sent north.” Her smile quickly fell. “What do you know about this young earl? I shan’t allow such correspondences unless I have your opinion that the lad’s attentions for our dear Emerson are pure…”

Emerson swallowed, feeling her fingers tremble and her face go pale. She dropped the opened letter back in the bin with disbelief. Carefully, she withdrew another one. Clara’s presence sank to her periphery as competing bouts of curiosity warred with desire to turn away from further reading for fear of what she’d learn. My uncle intercepted our letters? Why? She pulled the next letter free and opened it.

“My dear sister Bess,

I fear the lad Brady MacInnes has ambitions of becoming an actor, and that his family subsists on farming. I’ve done quite a bit of searching, and have discovered details of which even you might not be aware. The MacInnes family’s finances are a disaster, and the lord is truly in the down-and-outs. I know you wish for Emerson to follow her heart into marriage, but as her guardian, I cannot allow this. Even you should be alarmed by the MacInnes lad’s attention toward her and the increasing desperation with which he writes to her. The boy’s family is so saddled with debt, poor Emerson would have a life of misery with him. And any lad wishing to become an actor has unsavory intentions of his own. I have intentions for her, too, which will see her well cared for. I’ve agreed to an affluent match between her and Corbin Pritchard, the son of my esteemed partner, when she turns seventeen. I have confidence Emerson will accept his suit….”

“Emerson?” Clara asked, jarring her back to the present, and for once, Clara didn’t look as if she hid gossip up her sleeve. “You’re as pale as a sheet. Whatever is the matter?”

Emerson closed her eyes, unable to read more just now with company in her midst. She dug her fingernails into her palm to stave off the hurt of her uncle’s betrayal of her trust and the devastation Brady must have felt, and summoned a smile. This was all her uncle’s fault.

“Nothing, Clara, some family matters shared between my aunt and uncle years ago.” She dropped the letter back in the bin on top of the other one. “Please see this box put in my bedroom, Kate. I shall read more into them later.”

Kate bobbed a curtsy and departed, closing the door. For a moment, Emerson did nothing but stare at the fire. But how dare her uncle deceive her so? Deceive Brady? Fingers still trembling, she folded them at her waist to master them, and brusquely plopped back down to the settee.

“Tell me more about your husband, Clara, for he was positively charming when I met him the other day.”

Blessedly, Clara chattered importantly while bouncing her baby, sparing Emerson from further conversation. But Emerson’s mind drifted. She sipped her tea, grateful for the steady ticking of the clock and the heat emanating from the fire back. She glanced at the dear girl sleeping upon the settee. She thought of Brady, once so young and charismatic, with ambitions, now quashed like an insect beneath a heel, as life had dealt him one blow after another. And yet, nothing ever knocked him down completely. It sounded as if he understood what charity was far better than most, and she resolved herself to visit Brady at first light. She owned him an apology for her initial judgment against him, and he deserved to see these letters for himself. Doing so wouldn’t change the past, but she could no longer bear for him to be in the dark, hurt and angry at her with the same suspicions she’d harbored of him all these years. In fact, she felt a strange, youthful flutter awaken within her. This revelation wouldn’t erase the past, but if his heart was still soft to her, it might rekindle a future.