The Winter Garden (IMD #2)

Chapter Twelve: Trepidation

Chapter Twelve:

 

Trepidation

“That poor man,” Hadley Fenice cried as she poured her brother and cousin another cup of tea. “Why would someone do that to another person?”

Eliza shook her head. “I have no idea. He will not talk about it either. James does not want to push him, but he is not dealing with his problems. Now, he is up in the study typing autopsy reports all night.” She took a long sip and let her eyes roam over Hadley’s automatons, which lay in unpainted pieces of porcelain on the counter or in the corner as fully articulated dioramas ready for shipping. “He has been at it nonstop for three days.”

“Won’t he work himself into exhaustion going on like that?”

“Probably, but I think that is what he wants.”

“Why would he want that?” Adam finally asked as he pictured the frail young man with the bruised face shivering in bed again. “He nearly died. Shouldn’t he be happy he is alive?”

“In theory he should, but from the little I gleaned from Emmeline and what I have seen of his injuries, Immanuel was tortured.” Mrs. Hawthorne swirled her tea absentmindedly as she continued, “When people go through something like that, they either think about nothing but what happened or think about everything but what happened. He has chosen the latter, and honestly, I do not know how to draw him out of it.”

Hadley thought about what would bring her back into the world or make her smile again, but all that came to mind were her creations or her fiancé. She looked at her oddly quiet twin. The subject had been on his mind after he dropped the stack of books off for Emmeline days ago. Since then, he had asked if she had heard about the blonde man’s condition while unconsciously rubbing his wrist just as he did when he was nervous about an account at work. He tried to mask his concern with indifference, but she saw him flinch as their cousin pronounced the word torture.

“Do you think a day of sightseeing would help him forget his troubles?”

“It might, but I do not think I will be able to convince Emmeline to cooperate. I have become her enemy now that I want her to be more than a socialite with a pretty face.”

“Don’t you think you are being a little hard on her?” Adam brushed at the sawdust and porcelain residue from the workroom floor that stubbornly clung to the bottom of his trousers. “You cannot expect a cosseted child to give up her ways for a more serious life without a fight. Why don’t you tell her that her mother left her a fortune for when she is of age? You are still planning to introduce her in the spring, aren’t you?”

 “If I told her that, she would be an even bigger horror to deal with and there would be no chance of changing her. She would want to spend her entire fortune on new dresses and balls. I want her to understand that there is more to life than just fancy clothes and being a wife. If she applied as much energy to her studies as she does to whining, she would be well on her way to being the first woman in the House of Commons. I am so glad that James was home, so I could escape her tantrums for a little while. I do not know when I will be able to take Immanuel around town without Emmeline.”

“What if Adam took him instead?”

Adam’s eyes widened in alarm, but before he could respond, their cousin flashed a tired smile. “Oh, would you? You have been such a great help since all this happened. He will probably enjoy your company more than mine anyway since you are closer to his age and know what he would want to see.” She glanced at the clock near the door. “I should be getting back. Thank you so much, Adam. Would you be willing to collect him tomorrow morning?”