Emma sighed dramatically. “Very well. I shall try to be more considerate since Franny is an orphan now. But it is so difficult when everyone around me seems so… delicate.”
Mattie turned towards Mrs. Watson and mouthed, “Help.”
Mrs. Watson gave her an amused look. “Emma, would you care for some bread?”
“I would,” Emma replied. “The bread at the boarding school was terrible. By the time I arrived for breakfast each morning, only the burnt pieces remained for me.”
“Why didn’t you come down earlier?” Mattie asked.
Emma blinked, her expression incredulous. “Why on earth would I ever wake up that early?” she asked in disbelief. “It is not as if I had to collect the eggs for our breakfast. No offense, Mrs. Watson.”
“None taken, Miss Emma,” Mrs. Watson responded kindly. “Speaking of which, would you care for an egg with your breakfast?”
“I would,” Emma said.
As Mrs. Watson went about preparing breakfast, Mattie’s father stepped into the room with the newssheets under his arm.
“Good morning, my dears,” he greeted, coming to kiss Emma on the top of her head. “I am happy that both of my daughters are home, where they belong.”
Emma beamed. “I understand you went to speak to Lord Dallington this morning.”
“I did,” her father confirmed. “Lord Dallington is helping me with estate management since I will be running Darlington Abbey for the foreseeable future.”
“I understand that Grandfather is on his deathbed,” Emma remarked.
Her father shook his head. “We have since received word that he is doing much better. With any luck, he will be home soon.”
A look of disappointment flashed in Emma’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Wonderful news,” she said, her words lackingany emotions.
Mattie never quite understood her sister and how she cared so little for other people’s misfortunes. She watched as her father sat down next to Emma at the table, unfolding the newssheets.
“What do you ladies have planned for today?” he asked, looking from Emma to Mattie.
Emma’s hands grew animated. “Well, I wish to take a bath and get this layer of dirt off of me,” she said. “Then I was hoping to go to the village and purchase some new ribbons for my hair.”
“We are in mourning,” Mattie reminded her sister. “The dressmaker should be bringing by a black woolen gown for each one of us today.”
“I look terrible in black,” Emma remarked, pouting slightly. “What if we forgo mourning, just this once?”
Mattie couldn’t help herself and finally rolled her eyes in exasperation. “That would be a great insult to Father, and especially Franny.”
Emma reached for her father’s hand. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
Her father tenderly encompassed his daughter’s hand. “I know mourning is not exciting for anyone, but we do not wish to tarnish my brother and his wife’s memory by dishonoring them.”
“What if I wore my mourning gown and went to the village?” Emma asked hopefully.
Mattie opened up her mouth to reply, but her father spoke first. “I suppose that would be all right, assuming Mattie goes with you.”
“But, Father—” Mattie started.
With a wink at Emma, her father said, “Just one time will not be an issue. Will it, Mattie?” He turned his attention towards her, a smile on his face.
Her jaw grew tight. “No,” she said through clenched teeth.
Her father’s smile grew. “Perhaps Franny would like toaccompany you,” he suggested. “Every young woman enjoys looking at ribbons.”
“I doubt Franny will accompany us since she refuses to leave the cottage for now,” Mattie stated.
