worried. We don’t blame you for what happened today. It’s just that Elsie’s mother is very concerned about propriety. And I’m afraid she also feels some … unease … about the nature of Elsie’s illness, particularly how it could be perceived by onlookers who know nothing of her condition.”
Asher nodded, remembering the crowd that circled her at the museum.
“The poor girl has scarcely left the confines of her home for years. I’d hoped she might have a bit more freedom when she came here—a chance to see more of the world now that she’s seventeen. And I still feel that way. But she’ll need our protection in order to keep safe.”
Mr. Thompson laid a hand on his wife’s arm. “What my wife is trying to say is that we thank you for protecting Elsie today. It reassures us that someone we trust was with her during such a trying episode.”
“Of course, sir.”
“That’s settled, then,” said Mrs. Thompson, her smile faltering. “But there is something else.”
Asher stiffened. “Yes?”
Mrs. Thompson reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a sealed envelope. “Your father has been in touch. This telegram is for you.” She handed it to him. “He’s also written to us asking after you.”
“How did he know I was here?”
Mr. Thompson straightened in his chair, his expression contrite. “We wired him as soon as you arrived.”
Asher choked back an angry retort. The Thompsons were old friends with his father—surely it was a courtesy to contact him. So why did it feel like meddling? “No doubt he had terrible things to say about me.”
Mrs. Thompson lifted an eyebrow. “He asked after your health and said that he wished to hear from you.” She gazed at him searchingly. “Asher, is there any way we can help? Perhaps if we knew the nature of the trouble between you—”
“It was a difference of opinion, and I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to help,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I do appreciate your concern, however.”
“Just know we are here if you need us,” said Mrs. Thompson, clasping her hands in her lap. “It’s been an eventful day. Won’t you take some rest before dinner?”
He’d spent less than three days with the Thompson family and already he was lying to them. And for what reason? First to protect a girl who’d deceived him, and just now to preserve his own pride. If he were smart he’d be on his way before he became further entangled.
Once in his room he threw the envelope on his desk. He couldn’t really blame the Thompsons for their concern, but thatdidn’t mean he would read the message. His father deserved no such courtesy.
Elsie was a different story. As he rehearsed the day’s events in his head, he found it impossible to maintain his indignation toward her. She had lied, to be sure, but not merely to protect herself. She had covered for him as well.
In fact, she’d made him look like a hero.
Asher had hoped to meet Elsie’s gaze over the supper table, to somehow channel the thoughts in her head by looking directly in her eyes. She had elected to retire early, however, and he had no choice but to focus his efforts on maintaining light conversation with the Thompsons.
Kate was no help. She hardly said anything, as usual. She did stare quite a bit, though—particularly at him. That night her gaze held more than curiosity. She seemed to be assessing him somehow, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Everyone looked up when the front doorbell clanged. Mrs. Thompson turned to her husband. “Are you expecting someone, my dear?”
“Of course not.”
They waited in silence, their forks suspended in the air, until Millie appeared in the doorway. When Mr. Thompson beckoned her, she murmured at his ear. He nodded solemnly, folding his napkin next to his plate before turning to his wife. “Please continue with supper. I’ll see about this.”
“See about what?” she asked, her brow wrinkled.
But either he did not hear her
Asher nodded, remembering the crowd that circled her at the museum.
“The poor girl has scarcely left the confines of her home for years. I’d hoped she might have a bit more freedom when she came here—a chance to see more of the world now that she’s seventeen. And I still feel that way. But she’ll need our protection in order to keep safe.”
Mr. Thompson laid a hand on his wife’s arm. “What my wife is trying to say is that we thank you for protecting Elsie today. It reassures us that someone we trust was with her during such a trying episode.”
“Of course, sir.”
“That’s settled, then,” said Mrs. Thompson, her smile faltering. “But there is something else.”
Asher stiffened. “Yes?”
Mrs. Thompson reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a sealed envelope. “Your father has been in touch. This telegram is for you.” She handed it to him. “He’s also written to us asking after you.”
“How did he know I was here?”
Mr. Thompson straightened in his chair, his expression contrite. “We wired him as soon as you arrived.”
Asher choked back an angry retort. The Thompsons were old friends with his father—surely it was a courtesy to contact him. So why did it feel like meddling? “No doubt he had terrible things to say about me.”
Mrs. Thompson lifted an eyebrow. “He asked after your health and said that he wished to hear from you.” She gazed at him searchingly. “Asher, is there any way we can help? Perhaps if we knew the nature of the trouble between you—”
“It was a difference of opinion, and I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to help,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I do appreciate your concern, however.”
“Just know we are here if you need us,” said Mrs. Thompson, clasping her hands in her lap. “It’s been an eventful day. Won’t you take some rest before dinner?”
He’d spent less than three days with the Thompson family and already he was lying to them. And for what reason? First to protect a girl who’d deceived him, and just now to preserve his own pride. If he were smart he’d be on his way before he became further entangled.
Once in his room he threw the envelope on his desk. He couldn’t really blame the Thompsons for their concern, but thatdidn’t mean he would read the message. His father deserved no such courtesy.
Elsie was a different story. As he rehearsed the day’s events in his head, he found it impossible to maintain his indignation toward her. She had lied, to be sure, but not merely to protect herself. She had covered for him as well.
In fact, she’d made him look like a hero.
Asher had hoped to meet Elsie’s gaze over the supper table, to somehow channel the thoughts in her head by looking directly in her eyes. She had elected to retire early, however, and he had no choice but to focus his efforts on maintaining light conversation with the Thompsons.
Kate was no help. She hardly said anything, as usual. She did stare quite a bit, though—particularly at him. That night her gaze held more than curiosity. She seemed to be assessing him somehow, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Everyone looked up when the front doorbell clanged. Mrs. Thompson turned to her husband. “Are you expecting someone, my dear?”
“Of course not.”
They waited in silence, their forks suspended in the air, until Millie appeared in the doorway. When Mr. Thompson beckoned her, she murmured at his ear. He nodded solemnly, folding his napkin next to his plate before turning to his wife. “Please continue with supper. I’ll see about this.”
“See about what?” she asked, her brow wrinkled.
But either he did not hear her
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