The Secret of Pembrooke Park(77)

Abigail spoke up, “How interesting that you two knew each other as children. Has Miss Chapman changed a great deal in your estimation, Mr. Pembrooke?”

Miles smiled. “Well, you must remember I was only a boy of eleven or twelve at the time, and not really noticing girls. But I will say Miss Chapman has grown uncommonly pretty.”

Leah looked away, disconcerted by his admiring gaze.

William Chapman approached, hesitated at seeing the three of them talking together, then strode forward, face thunderous.

“Leah! What are you doing? Come with me. Now.”

Leah blinked up at her brother. “William?”

“Come.” He took her arm and turned cold eyes on Abigail. “Excuse us, Miss Foster.”

“Mr. Chapman, what is it? What have I done?”

He turned on Miles sharply. “Stay away from my sister, Mr. Pembrooke. Do you understand me?”

Miles’s mouth drooped open. He looked at Abigail, and she met his stunned, hurt expression with one of her own.

Abigail stayed Miles with a quick hand to his sleeve, then hurried after William and Leah.

She caught up with them outside their cottage. “Mr. Chapman, wait.”

He urged Leah inside, then whirled on Abigail. “What were you thinking? To introduce him to my sister? If my father had come upon them instead of me . . . I shudder to think what might have happened.”

“But why? I don’t understand.”

“That’s right. You don’t. And it would be better for all involved if you stayed out of matters that don’t concern you.”

Tears stung her eyes. Never had she imagined William Chapman speaking to her in such a cutting tone. Or imagined seeing such anger in eyes that had previously regarded her with warm friendliness—even, she thought, admiration. But that look was now soundly replaced with disillusionment and betrayal. Did he feel betrayed on his friend Andrew’s behalf? Or was he so prejudiced against Miles? Even if the old rumors about Clive Pembrooke were true, it shocked her that he would blame the son for his father’s wrongdoing. Especially when Miles had been so young at the time. But perhaps he was not as compassionate as she’d believed him to be.

Even so, thoughts of losing his admiration and Leah’s friendship were like twin knives thrust into her heart. Tears filled her eyes. She turned away to hide them and returned to Pembrooke Park alone.

Miles was waiting for her in the hall. “My dear Miss Foster, are you quite all right? You look very ill indeed. I do hope Mr. Chapman has not overly upset you.”

“And I hope his rudeness has not offended you. I am quite at a loss to explain it. Usually he is perfectly amiable and polite. I have never seen him treat anyone so unkindly.”

Miles studied her face, his expression measuring and disappointed. “Oh dear. Apparently you admire the man a great deal. I am sorry to have caused strife between you.” He certainly appeared sorry. But she somehow doubted he would lose any sleep over it.

He added, “I had hoped the old prejudices would have faded after all this time. Against me and my sister, at any rate. I am the first, you see, to dip my toe back into this pond, to make known my presence. Harri is very reluctant to do so. She remembers all too well how people shunned us when we lived here. As I said, I don’t really blame anybody for those days. My father being the sort of man he was. But now? After all this time? I do not look forward to telling Harri she was right not to trumpet her presence.”



After Miss Foster turned away in retreat, William closed and latched the cottage door and turned to face Leah.

Expression pained, she asked, “Do you think that was wise?”

“Wise?” he echoed. “I find you in tête-à-tête with Miles Pembrooke, and you ask me if my actions were wise?”

“Hardly a tête-à-tête. Miss Foster was there as well, you remember. You should remember, having hurt her feelings in such a callous manner.”

He blinked away the image of Miss Foster’s wide, pained eyes. “But why were you even talking to him, considering . . . everything?”

“I was constrained by politeness. Miss Foster introduced us.”

He looked heavenward, jaw clenched and biting back an oath.

“Why do you look so fierce? Remember she is not acquainted with our family history, as you have recently become. You were quite harsh with her. With them both.”

He shook his head, his emotions still in a tangle. “I didn’t think. Only reacted. My only thought was to protect you. To remove you from harm’s way.”

“Did you really think he would have harmed me—then and there? Do you not see that by your very noticeable overreaction you have brought me to the notice of Mr. Pembrooke, rendering my own attempts to appear civil and unaffected void? Have we now not raised questions in his mind? Made him think twice about my history with his family?”

“I hope not.” He pressed his eyes closed and sent up a prayer for mercy.

“I know this is hard for you,” Leah said. “I have had years—almost my whole life—to get used to the idea. To learn to hide my feelings.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I do understand, William. And I hope Miss Foster will as well. Eventually.”





Chapter 16


For the next few days, the entire Chapman family seemed to make a point of avoiding Abigail, and Pembrooke Park in general. Not even Kitty stopped by, and there was no invitation to dinner after the midweek prayer service for their rector, Mr. Morris, who had come down with a worrisome fever. During the service, William and Mac avoided meeting her eye, and Leah departed as soon as the service concluded without staying to chat. Abigail began to fear that she had lost Leah’s fledgling friendship and her brother’s admiration forever.