Elizabeth Meyette Read Online Free Page B

throat at that thought. The fact that Emily carried Jonathon’s child only increased her hatred, for Emily had everything that Deidre felt should have been hers — Jonathon, his heir, and Brentwood Manor.

Chapter 2
    Emily fidgeted over the next days, her mind filled with the thought that Jonathon was just a carriage ride away. She flitted from reading a book to strolling in the garden to playing with Will, but her thoughts were always elsewhere, at a cabin with her Jonathon. Noticing her restlessness, Joanna tried all kinds of diversions: games of whist, sewing clothes for the baby, redesigning frocks to suit Emily’s changing figure. But none of these were successful, and Emily was growing impatient and short-tempered. One morning while playing with Will, Emily scolded him stridently for throwing a toy drum across the parlor.
    “William, we do not throw toys!” Emily shouted at the child. Startled by the volume of her voice, he began to wail.
    “Emily, what is wrong?” Joanna asked, for she had never spoken thus to William.
    Emily felt her eyes brim with tears as she looked from Will to Joanna. She knelt down beside the child and reached out to comfort him. He twisted away from her and held out his arms to his mother. Joanna scooped him up and took a seat on the nearby settee. Unable to hold her emotions in check any longer, Emily released her pent up tears, her shoulders shaking. Sobbing, she looked at Will and Joanna.
    “Forgive me, Will, Aunt Emily is not … not herself today,” she managed to get out between sobs. She reached out to stroke the child’s leg, but he turned from her and buried his face in Joanna’s neck, his wailing intensifying.
    “There, there,” Joanna murmured against Will’s forehead. “It is all right, William, it is all right.” But he would not be consoled. She gently bounced and rocked him, softly singing a lullaby, and after a while his cries settled into whimpers, tears streaming down his face.
    “Oh, Will, I am so sorry that I frightened you,” Emily said. “Aunt Emily is so sorry.” She rose, wiping her own tears from her face, and gently approached him. “Do you forgive your aunt who loves you so, Will?”
    Will eyed her suspiciously as she neared him. He turned his face away from her and then looked back. When she stood before him, he laid his head against Joanna’s shoulder and peeked up at Emily who reached out and brushed a curl that had fallen against his eye. She smiled tenderly at him, and the trace of a smile lit his eyes. Leaning forward she kissed his cheek tenderly.
    “Aunt Emily loves Will,” she said softly tickling him and was rewarded with a smile. Emily’s eyes shifted to Joanna’s.
    “Forgive me, Joanna,” she said softly.
    “Of course, Emily, but I am worried about what initiated such an uncharacteristic outburst,”
    Emily’s eyes drifted away from her sister-in-law’s and fixed on the view from the terrace window. She watched a robin swoop down and tug a piece of straw caught in a flower pot on the veranda. The bird wrangled the straw until it came loose from the soil, twisting its beak this way and that until freeing its prize. Finally victorious, it flew off to improve its nest. Nothing in life came easily, it seemed. Struggling within, she weighed revealing her secret to Joanna with her promise to keep silent about Jonathon’s whereabouts. Surely she could reveal that she had seen Jonathon, yet still keep his location a secret; Joanna would understand the need for discretion. The thought struck her: what if something had happened to her own brother, Andrew? It would be agonizing not to know if he was all right. Yes, Joanna must be told at least that much; she must be told that Jonathon is alive and safe — for now. Making up her mind, she turned to her sister-in-law who held a now-sleeping Will in her arms.
    “Joanna, I have been so unsettled of late,” she began.
    “Yes, I have observed that,” Joanna laughed softly. “What bothers