A Fateful Wind by Suzette Stone Page B

front of her.
    “Still up at the mines I expect,” her husband mumbled, rubbing his neck.
    “Busy night my darling?” Sarcasm clouded her tone.
    Lord Edwin eyed her with contempt. “Yes, Emmeline, something you would know little of.”
    “The rooster was crowing by the time you and Jack returned home from goodness knows where in Plymouth.” She rather enjoyed seeing him suffer from his gluttonous night of boozing and no sleep.
    “How very observant of you, my dear.”
    “It always interests me so how age can be such a burden to nighttime pursuits,” Emmeline said absentmindedly.
    “Whatever are you talking about woman?”
    The irritation in his voice amused her. “Well, there’s Jack who undoubtedly enjoyed the same libations as you, only he has spent the day full of energy and high spirits. Then there’s you, my poor, poor aging husband who, after one night, is ready to curl up in a ball and die. Poor love, how you must hanker for your lost youth on days such as these.”
    Edwin sneered across the table.
    “More stew darling? You must keep your energy up.” Emmeline enjoyed watching her husband struggle with the pungent lamb stew she intentionally had placed before him.
    “No, thank you, my sweet,” he replied between gritted teeth.
    * * * *
    Jack hurried across the moorland pathway. He hoped to have been home in time for supper, but the time with Jenna flew by so quickly that before he knew it his gold pocket watch read almost seven. She looked up in fright, mumbled something about her father worrying and unwrapped herself from his arms, promising to meet him again the next day in the little shed. Oh, how they talked and talked and talked. She listened with rapture at his tales of America, asking so many questions and wanting to hear every detail of how people in America dressed, what they ate, how their houses were built. He was enamored by her curiosity and most of all by her intelligence, so strange for an uneducated servant girl. He asked her about it, where she learned to read and write and how she knew so much of the world finding it unusual for a common girl such as she.
    “Lady Emmeline requests it of her personal servants.” Jenna told him, adding that her employer arranged lessons for her from the time she was a young girl.
    “So she groomed you to work for her from a young age?” he asked, perplexed slightly by Lady Emmeline’s interest in the girl.
    Jenna nodded. “My mother, an excellent seamstress, worked on occasion for Lady Emmeline. Whenever she went up to the manor she would take me with her. I suppose Lady Emmeline grew to like me as a child and wanted me to work for her when I turned fourteen.”
    As Jack walked home, he thought of Lady Emmeline. He supposed not having any children of her own and seeing Jenna as a young girl brought out some maternal instinct of her own. How could anyone not want to protect such a delicate beauty such as Jenna anyway ? he pondered , remembering once again the touch of her lips on his.
    During their time together he broached the topic of her impending marriage, but at the mention of it, her spirits dampened so considerably he changed the subject. But he was determined to tackle it sooner rather than later. He felt it was this that was making Jenna so sad, but he had no intention of breaking up a common servant girl’s engagement. What good would come if it? Yes, he felt a surge of emotion for her, a surge of love, but as he reminded himself, he didn’t even know her properly. Anyway, soon he would be leaving. She would be getting married. Why not enjoy himself for the few weeks left in Cornwall? Tomorrow he would broach the subject again. Ah, tomorrow! How his heart raced with excitement at the thought of it.
    Jack made his way toward the dining room at Penrose Manor and opened the door quickly. He felt famished, barely able to eat anything all day at the thought of seeing Jenna that afternoon. But the smell of lamb stew wafting through the old