Artemis (previously The Lady Lockhart)

Chapter Fourteen

Happy Black Friday (in my timezone at least)!

"A LETTER FOR YOU, MY LORD." THE SERVANT BOWED AND HANDED THE young earl an intricately designed envelope identical to the one he had previously received when he was invited to the palace ball alongside his sister. His sister...he felt a headache brewing even thinking of her. He loved her so, and it pained him to maintain such a coldness against her, but the thought of her marrying his best friend felt wrong for reasons he could not articulate even to himself. He sighed before catching sight of another similar envelope in the stack.

    Pointing to it, he asked, "Is that for Lady Emmeline?"

    "Yes, my lord," the servant confirmed. "Is there anything else you require, my lord? If not, I will be delivering Lady Emmeline her letters—"

    "That will be unnecessary," Emmett said. "Spare yourself the trouble and give them to me. I will hand them to her."

    "Are you certain, my lord? It is no trouble—"

    "Give them to me," Emmett repeated, his clipped tone a clear indication that he was absolutely steadfast in his stand. He wished to make amends with his sister, but was all too aware that she was avoiding him. He would need a reason to speak to her, and having possession of her mail seemed like an adequate one. She would, after all, not be able to decline receiving her correspondence.

    "As you wish, my lord." The servant, forced to oblige, handed him the two envelopes, one from the palace and one not. Who else could have written her, I wonder? Emmett thought, and after the servant had gone, he carelessly turned the other letter over in his hand – only to see his sister's name in Peter Jamison's hand.

    All thoughts of reconciliation temporarily departed from his mind. The captain was usually an easygoing character. Why was he, this time, so insistent upon pursuing Emmeline, despite the fierce warning previously issued? Emmett's anger bubbled from his gut to his throat, and was released in a frightening roar. In a fit of rage, he hurled the letter into the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it. It would never see the light of day again. His sister would never see it, never read its contents, never even know of its existence.

    A glance at his sister's other piece of correspondence prompted him to calm himself. Picking up the fancy envelope, Emmett left his study in search of her. His first instinct was to try looking in the garden, but she was not there. Upon his return indoors, he knew exactly where to look when he heard the deep tones of the violoncello ricocheting in the hallways.

    As he had anticipated, he found Emmeline Lockhart in the music room, with her maid in waiting standing in the corner and observing her. The young lady, entranced by her instrument, did not notice him push the door open; but Penelope lifted her head and bobbed a curtsy. He nodded curtly before standing by the door and watching his sister play with naught but tenderness in his eyes. He knew how much she loved the violoncello, and there was something in the way in which she could cradle the fingerboard in her arm like a tender babe that warmed his being. As her brother and guardian, he could never stop her from doing what she loved, and her heart lay in the oversized violin that sat in her lap.

    When the song Emmeline was playing drew to a close, she lifted her head to greet him, her voice soft and sad. "Emmett."

    "I have a letter for you," he announced, "from the palace. I imagine it is an invitation of some sort, for I received one also."

    She said nothing, as if at a loss for words, and it broke his heart that his typically smart-mouthed sister had nothing left to say to him. "I need to speak with you, Emmeline." With a glance at Penny, he added, "In private."