Jane Pemberton 02 - An Inevitable Murder by Blythe Baker

Author:Blythe Baker [Baker, Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798753927408
Google: tZqzzgEACAAJ
Goodreads: 59487007
Publisher: Independently published
Published: 2021-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

8

I managed to find sleep when I finally returned to my room, and it seemed that only a few moments had passed before the clock on my bedside table chimed at six to wake me. I dragged myself out of bed, groggy and heavy-lidded as I dressed and readied myself for the day. By the time I met Celia half an hour later, I realized that spending the majority of the night awake might not have been the wisest idea for my state of mind. Worry bombarded me as I reflected on the conversation I had with Mr. Brookfield the night before, worry and fear. He and I shared the realization that this matter with the Westhouse family was quite likely far from over.

Celia, observant as always, glowered as soon as she laid eyes on me. “What is wrong?” she asked.

“Wrong?” I asked, my face flooding with color. “What do you mean? Nothing is wrong.”

“Jane…” Celia said, shaking her head. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear yesterday.”

She does not wish for me to keep things from her, I reflected. I straightened, gathering my thoughts. “I have been thinking about what Miss Arabella told us yesterday,” I said. “And I happened to run into Mr. Brookfield while in the library last night.”

“Last night?” Celia asked. “After we had gone to bed?”

I gave her a quick summary of our conversation, which caused her eyebrows to stretch ever higher upon her forehead. “Mr. Brookfield never compliments anyone,” she said with a broad smile appearing on her face. “Oh, this is interesting, is it not?”

“What is interesting?” I asked.

Celia’s eyes flashed. “I believe Mr. Brookfield might be fond of you, Jane.”

I frowned. “Oh, come now, Celia. That is preposterous.”

“I have never heard Mr. Brookfield tell another woman how intelligent she is, how patient, how much he was impressed by her,” Celia said. She looked over her shoulder at Hetty. “Have you?”

Hetty, who held a bundle of wild flowers in one hand, and arranged them one by one in a green vase with the other, looked over. “No,” she said, and went back to her work.

Celia smiled at me. “You see?” she asked. “I told you.”

I paused, uncertain how to respond. Mr. Brookfield…fond of me? I pondered.

It did not trouble me as I thought it might. In a way, I found it somewhat flattering. It was not as if I found myself with any sort of affections toward him, but it pleased me to know that the person who essentially ran the entire household thought so highly of me. It seemed I had earned my place.

“I see your thoughts whirling,” Celia said with a giggle. “Are they filled with Mr. Brookfield, perhaps?”

I gave her a playful glare. “Well, we should join the others for breakfast,” I said. “I imagine your sister will be absent, given her situation.”

“Yes, she very well may be,” Celia said. “I do not think she will wish to face Father, not after their quarrel yesterday.”

The rest of the day, and the day after, were filled with tension.

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