room, too. That’s all. Really, Jane, I think he just wants to talk to you alone, in a civilised setting.’
‘But why go to the trouble? He only needs to come up here and ask to talk to me.’ Though Jane was sure they had said everything they needed to say to each other. Talking now would only rip open old wounds. Make her want things she knew were lost, just as she had when Hayden laughed with her last night.
Emma shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I dothink he wants to try to fit in here. Just be nice to him, Jane, please.’
‘I’m always nice!’ Jane protested. And she had tried with Hayden. Tried until she couldn’t bear to try again.
She slipped her hand into her apron pocket and felt the crackle of the note there. Maybe, just maybe, she could dig deep and find it in herself to try one more time? Just for dinner?
‘Help me find the pink slippers that go with the gown, Emma,’ she said. ‘They should be in here somewhere…’
Emma hummed a little tune as she skipped down the stairs, Murray’s claws skittering on the wooden floor behind her. From behind the closed dining-room door she could hear the sound of furniture being moved, the clink of fine porcelain and silver being unpacked, and upstairs Jane was dressing in some of her pretty London clothes.
It was more activity than Barton had seen in a very long time and it felt as if the house was waking up around them. As if a whole new day was dawning.
Emma turned towards the library and gavea little spinning turn on the newly polished floor. Everything was going so very well. Jane looked happier, smiling more, even laughing, and no one deserved to be happy more than her sweet sister did. And Hayden wasn’t the ogre Emma had come to imagine when she had seen how distant Jane was in their first weeks back at Barton last year.
Emma didn’t know the whole tale of her sister’s marriage. Jane had never been one to confide her troubles in anyone else, just as Emma never told Jane about Mr Milne. But Emma’s imagination had filled in tales based on novels she read about city lives and gossip from the girls at her old school. Hayden became almost a monster of unkindness and rakedom in her mind.
But when she found him injured on the road and brought him home, she’d seen he wasn’t what she imagined. He seemed almost like Jane. Sad—seeking.
Of course, that didn’t mean Emma wouldn’t kill him if he dared hurt Jane again.
She closed the library door behind her and hurried to the shelf where she spent so much time, the section that held volumes and documentson the history of Barton and the neighbourhood. That was where she had found the original journal and where she had come to think the maze held the secrets to the treasure. She had to keep on with the hunt; she was so close now.
Jane slowly made her way down the stairs, hugging her wool shawl closer around her shoulders. Somehow the house,
her
house, felt strange, as if she walked through halls and rooms she had never seen before. Lamps were lit along the way, the flickering amber light blending with the waning daylight streaming through the windows. It made everything look magical.
Jane pressed her hand against her stomach to still the nervous flutters. It was ridiculous to be anxious. She was merely going to have a meal in her own house, with Hayden.
Alone
with Hayden. That was the uncertain point. For such a long time, when they were alone they either fought or fell into each other’s arms. Neither had ever done them much good. She’d spent all those months atBarton trying to forget and find a way to move forwards.
She’d even thought she
had
moved forwards, until he suddenly appeared on her doorstep. Until yesterday, when she saw that swing and remembered all the good things that once were. Until he laughed with her and Emma, as if the past was truly past.
She hurried through the drawing room, towards the closed double doors that led into the dining room. They seldom used those rooms
‘But why go to the trouble? He only needs to come up here and ask to talk to me.’ Though Jane was sure they had said everything they needed to say to each other. Talking now would only rip open old wounds. Make her want things she knew were lost, just as she had when Hayden laughed with her last night.
Emma shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I dothink he wants to try to fit in here. Just be nice to him, Jane, please.’
‘I’m always nice!’ Jane protested. And she had tried with Hayden. Tried until she couldn’t bear to try again.
She slipped her hand into her apron pocket and felt the crackle of the note there. Maybe, just maybe, she could dig deep and find it in herself to try one more time? Just for dinner?
‘Help me find the pink slippers that go with the gown, Emma,’ she said. ‘They should be in here somewhere…’
Emma hummed a little tune as she skipped down the stairs, Murray’s claws skittering on the wooden floor behind her. From behind the closed dining-room door she could hear the sound of furniture being moved, the clink of fine porcelain and silver being unpacked, and upstairs Jane was dressing in some of her pretty London clothes.
It was more activity than Barton had seen in a very long time and it felt as if the house was waking up around them. As if a whole new day was dawning.
Emma turned towards the library and gavea little spinning turn on the newly polished floor. Everything was going so very well. Jane looked happier, smiling more, even laughing, and no one deserved to be happy more than her sweet sister did. And Hayden wasn’t the ogre Emma had come to imagine when she had seen how distant Jane was in their first weeks back at Barton last year.
Emma didn’t know the whole tale of her sister’s marriage. Jane had never been one to confide her troubles in anyone else, just as Emma never told Jane about Mr Milne. But Emma’s imagination had filled in tales based on novels she read about city lives and gossip from the girls at her old school. Hayden became almost a monster of unkindness and rakedom in her mind.
But when she found him injured on the road and brought him home, she’d seen he wasn’t what she imagined. He seemed almost like Jane. Sad—seeking.
Of course, that didn’t mean Emma wouldn’t kill him if he dared hurt Jane again.
She closed the library door behind her and hurried to the shelf where she spent so much time, the section that held volumes and documentson the history of Barton and the neighbourhood. That was where she had found the original journal and where she had come to think the maze held the secrets to the treasure. She had to keep on with the hunt; she was so close now.
Jane slowly made her way down the stairs, hugging her wool shawl closer around her shoulders. Somehow the house,
her
house, felt strange, as if she walked through halls and rooms she had never seen before. Lamps were lit along the way, the flickering amber light blending with the waning daylight streaming through the windows. It made everything look magical.
Jane pressed her hand against her stomach to still the nervous flutters. It was ridiculous to be anxious. She was merely going to have a meal in her own house, with Hayden.
Alone
with Hayden. That was the uncertain point. For such a long time, when they were alone they either fought or fell into each other’s arms. Neither had ever done them much good. She’d spent all those months atBarton trying to forget and find a way to move forwards.
She’d even thought she
had
moved forwards, until he suddenly appeared on her doorstep. Until yesterday, when she saw that swing and remembered all the good things that once were. Until he laughed with her and Emma, as if the past was truly past.
She hurried through the drawing room, towards the closed double doors that led into the dining room. They seldom used those rooms
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