Neferet's Curse (House of Night Novellas #3)(27)

No. It had not been mentioned that I was spending time in the garden. No! Father could not know. Only Arthur knew. He’d been the only person who—

“Emily? Are you there? Please be there.”

As if I’d conjured him, Arthur Simpton’s sweet voice preceded him and he’d parted the boughs and stepped through the willow curtain.

“Arthur! Yes, I’m here!” Without allowing myself time to think, I’d acted on instinct and rushed to him, hurling myself into his surprised embrace, weeping and laughing at the same time.

“Emily, my God! Are you truly as unwell as your father says?” Arthur had held me away from him, studying me with concern.

“No, no, no! Oh, Arthur I am perfectly well now!” I hadn’t stepped back into his embrace, his hesitance had warned me. I must not appear too desperate—too forward. So I’d wiped my face quickly and smoothed my hair, glad again of the concealing darkness. “Forgive me. I have embarrassed myself dreadfully.” I’d turned away from him and hurried back to the safety of my bench.

“Think nothing of it. We both were surprised. There is nothing to forgive,” he’d assured me in his calm, kind voice.

“Thank you, Arthur. Would you sit with me for a moment and tell me how you come to be here? I am so glad!” I’d not been able to stop myself from saying. “I’ve been so distraught at the thought of not visiting you and your family.”

Arthur had sat beside me. “At this very moment your father is sipping my father’s brandy and they are sharing cigars as well as banking stories. I come to be here because of my concern for you. Mother and I have both been dreadfully worried since receiving your Father’s note yesterday saying that you were too unwell to pay any social visits at all this week. Actually, it was Mother’s idea that I slip from the house and check on you tonight.”

“Did you tell her about the garden?” My voice had gone sharp and cold with fear.

There was enough light for me to see that he was frowning. “No, of course not. I would not betray your confidence, Emily. Mother simply suggested that I call on you. And if you truly could not receive visitors I should leave a note of condolence with your maid. That is exactly what I have done.”

“You spoke with Mary?”

“No, I believe it was your father’s valet who answered the door.”

I nodded impatiently. “Yes, Carson. What did he say?”

“I asked to be announced to you. He said you were indisposed. I said my parents and I were distressed to hear it, and asked that he give you our note of condolence tomorrow.” He paused and his frown had begun to tilt up in the expression that had already become so beloved by me. “Then your father’s man escorted me from the porch and watched me bicycle away down the street. When I was quite certain he was no longer watching, I circled back and entered through the gate as I did before, hoping that I might find you here.”

“And so you have! Arthur, you are so clever!” I’d placed my hand over his and squeezed. He’d smiled and squeezed my hand in return. I released him slowly, understanding that I must not offer too much too soon.

“So you have recovered? You are well?”

I’d drawn a deep breath. I knew I must tread carefully. My future—my safety—my salvation depended upon it.

“Oh, Arthur, this is so difficult for me to tell you. It-it makes me feel disloyal to Father to admit the truth.”

“You? Disloyal? I can hardly imagine it.”

“But I’m afraid if I speak the truth I will sound disloyal,” I’d said softly.

“Emily, I believe in truth. To tell it is to show a loyalty to God, and that is beyond any loyalty we hold to man. Besides, we are friends, and it is not disloyal to share a confidence with a friend.”

“As my friend, would you hold my hand as I tell you? I feel so frightened and alone.” I’d added a small, hiccupping sob.

“Of course, sweet Emily!” He’d captured my hand in his. I remember how wonderful it was to feel the strength and sureness of him, and what a stark contrast that was to Father’s hot, heavy touch.

“Then this is the truth. It seems as if Father is going mad. He wishes to control my every move. I was not unwell after Saturday night, but he suddenly refused to allow me to call on your parents. He has also forbidden me to continue my volunteer work that I have been doing weekly at the GFWC, and that cause was so important to my mother!” I’d stifled another sob and clung to Arthur’s hand. “He has said I may not leave Wheiler House until Monday next, and then I am only allowed to attend the opening of the Columbian Exposition and the University Club dinner afterward because several influential ladies have requested my presence. I know it is as you said before, that Father is mourning the loss of his wife, but his behavior has become so controlling that it is frightening! Oh, Arthur, tonight at dinner when I tried to insist that I continue Mother’s volunteerism with the GFWC I thought he was going to strike me!” I began to sob in earnest. Finally, Arthur pulled me into his arms.

“Emily, Emily, please don’t cry,” he’d said soothingly as he patted my back.

I’d pressed myself against him, crying softly on his shoulder, becoming increasingly aware that I had nothing on except my thin nightdress and my loosened dressing gown. I am not ashamed to admit that I thought of the beauty and fullness of my body as I clung to him.