Angel of Mercy

Chapter 39

The greenhouse had been a passion of Ethan's mother. He kept it after her death in honor of her memory but hardly visited the glass building. It was maintained by the gardeners and Ethan was told, supplied the manors vegetables, fruits, and flowers in the winter. Not that he had ever particularly cared for any of these things but now on the eve of Emma's departure he was glad he hadn't left it to disrepair.

Emma looked stunning when she entered through the doors that opened onto a table set for two. The air smelled both earthy and sweet at the same time. There were pots of flowers and leafy plants and plots that grew vegetables: potatoes, turnips, peppers and so forth. Above their heads the ceiling reflected the night sky.

The table was lit by a candelabrum. It was the only source of light. Ethan was seated when she arrived and stood when she approached.

"You look lovely," he said admiring the glove-like fit of her gown, the curls and twist her hair had been tamed to form, no doubt Eleanor's handiwork, and the red satin slippers on her feet.

Emma smiled, "As do you."

Ethan was wearing form fitting navy breeches, a white shirt and matching coat.

Once they were seated, he poured the wine.

"I thought it would be better if we were not interrupted by the servants." he explained as if she had asked why he was serving them.

"Yes, I'd prefer that." Emma agreed.

Ethan raised his glass and Emma copied him.

"To a safe journey and many years of friendship." he declared.

"And to good health." Emma added.

Ethan smiled, "You would say that."

"Of course! I'm a nurse." Not that Ethan needed the reminder.

They clinked glasses.

"Ethan this greenhouse is remarkable. How have I never seen it before?" Emma remarked surprised.

He shrugged, "It was never my passion, my mother had it built. I simply kept it tended."

"I wish I had known her." Emma said wistfully. 

"She would have liked you," Ethan assured her. "Now let's eat."

Ethan removed the silver dome coverings over their plates revealing fish and chips. Each plate held a dish of tartar sauce and a side of mushy peas.

Emma gasped.

"I thought you'd like something to remind you of home before you left." Ethan explained.

Emma had told him during one of their many conversations in the library and over supper that her favorite thing to eat in Brighton was a good meal of fish and chips she would buy down near the water.

"I can't remember the last time I had fish and chips! Thank you, Ethan! Is that what you were discussing with Mrs. Dandridge?" Emma inquired.

Ethan nodded.

"You truly are a wonderful man!" Emma picked up her fork.

Ethan was pleased by her response, and they continued the meal in good spirits. Toward the end Emma became quiet.

"What is it?" Ethan asked. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Emma shook her head and laid her napkin on the table.