The Lady's Scandalous Secret (The Discreet Investigations of Lord and Lady Calaway Book 7) by Issy Brooke

The Lady's Scandalous Secret (The Discreet Investigations of Lord and Lady Calaway Book 7) by Issy Brooke

Author:Issy Brooke [Brooke, Issy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-25T22:00:00+00:00


13

They rode home in the carriage in sullen silence. The sullenness, in truth, was emanating from Emily Johnson with such force that it quite put a thick blanket upon the other occupants. As soon as they got back to Litton, Emily retired to her room, refusing to have any food sent up. Anne and Adelia snacked on a little light food by a low fire in the cosiest parlour in the house, but there was a general air of disappointment hanging over them.

“I am peeved,” Adelia said. “What lies between Miss Johnson and Mrs Spenning? If she could only be honest, I am sure that much of this might be avoided. Do you think there is a matter of blackmail? Bribery? Threats?”

“She is a woman torn,” Anne replied, toying with a half-eaten slice of cold toast. “She hates Mrs Spenning, it is true, though she didn’t use to be so vehemently opposed to her.”

“I know that she thinks Mrs Spenning killed her husband. Has she another reason to loathe her?”

“I don’t know.”

Adelia frowned. She thought that there must be.

Anne went on. “The problem with our dear Em is that she sees things in a very clear-cut way. You are either good, or you are bad. You either do the right thing, or the wrong thing. Once a person errs and falls from Em’s favour, then that person is irredeemable. There is no room for forgiveness in Emily’s world.”

“How awful for everyone around her!”

“No, mama, don’t you see? This causes her great personal pain and anguish. For the world is not black and white. She hates Mrs Spenning now but she did not always do so, and one cannot turn one’s emotions on and off like a tap – God knows, if one could, I would have. And anyway, what I mean is, it’s even worse for herself.”

“What do you mean?”

Anne sighed and looked up at a painting on the wall. It was a nondescript yellowish landscape with faded tall trees and a curving river. Anne was willing herself into the scene. She said, “Who holds you to the highest account, mama? Aside from the Lord above, of course.”

Adelia thought about it. The stock answer of “My husband” was not correct even though that was what she’d say in public. Eventually she said, “I hold myself high. I set my own standards.”

“Exactly so. We are all harder on ourselves than we ever are to our friends. Bernard has helped me in that regard. He has shown me that the expectations I place upon myself are in fact injurious to myself. And as for Emily, well, if she sees the world in black and white and she allows no straying from the path of righteousness, what then happens when she, herself, inevitable slips and stumbles?”

“We all do from time to time.”

“Indeed. And she cannot forgive such stumbles in another. So how do you think she feels about herself?”

“I see what you mean. She must feel awful and torn in two, all of the time.



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