The Scholar (Emerson Pass Historicals 3) - Page 36

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I escorted Louisa to the cottage and made sure she was safely inside before I returned to the main house. Not ready to go inside yet, I went around to the back. Louisa had returned my jacket before she went inside; I held it against my chest as I sank onto one of the porch steps. An owl hooted somewhere in the distant woods.

I loved the peacefulness of a night like this one. When I’d been overseas and the noises of war had never ceased, I’d prayed I could return to the peacefulness of a night like this one. Still, even under the beauty of the moon and the tranquility of this moment, I had to acknowledge that darkness occurred everywhere. On the battlefields in France and here, too. My mother’s madness. Louisa’s father’s abuse. Places were not one or the other. There were good people and bad people. Even here in Emerson Pass.

Louisa’s confession had shaken me. I’d known of her father’s cruelty. Everyone knew. As horrific as that had been, this was worse. How did a little girl recover from such a thing? Her behavior and reticence made sense now. I vacillated between rage and a crushing sorrow. Many times in life I’d felt powerless, but never as much as I did tonight.

I wasn’t one to feel sorry for myself. Still, there had been many times growing up that I’d wondered why I was the twin cursed with worry and sensitivity. Flynn had soared through life without a care in the world. Whereas I was incapable of such things. Instead, I was fraught with worry, angst, and anxiety. Everything was harder for me than seemed necessary. I could not shut out sadness or despair. I’d worried I was bound for madness as my mother had been. Especially after the war when I could not let go of the horrors I’d witnessed.

Tonight, however, I understood for the first time that my sensitivity made me especially suited for this next phase in my life. I could love Louisa in the ways she needed to be loved. I was the man for her. I knew it in my bones.

The owl hooted again. Goose bumps pricked my skin. I rose to my feet and looked out to the thicket of trees that were to the right of the house. I couldn’t see the majestic bird, but I knew she existed. The words faith in what we could not see floated through my mind. I would have faith in Louisa and in myself and in the idea of the two of us together.

I slipped into the house as quietly as I could, hoping to avoid any of my family members. However, as was usually the case in this house, it was not to be. Papa and Mama were in the sitting room and called out to me as I was about to head upstairs.

“Theo, is that you?” Papa asked.

I headed into the sitting room, where my parents were sitting together by the unlit fireplace. Both were reading from novels. “You’re still up?”

“We’re about to head to bed,” Mama said. “But were waiting for you to come back inside.”

I glanced at the grandfather clock. It was only forty-five minutes past the hour. However, what had transpired between now and when I’d made my trip to the barn had changed everything.

“You were gone a long time,” Papa said. “I went out looking for you, thinking you might have fallen in with the sow and gotten eaten.”

“Alexander,” Mama said, laughing. “How gruesome.”

“You came out to the barn?” I asked. Had he seen me with Louisa?

Papa’s eyes danced. “I did. Quite the show, too.”

I grimaced. How embarrassing. He’d obviously seen us kissing. “I ran into Louisa. One thing led to another.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” Papa asked.

I sat across from them, preparing myself for the firing squad. “What would you like to know?”

“Will you be courting Louisa?” Papa asked. “Properly?”

“Properly? Of course. How else would I do it? We’re going for a drive and a picnic tomorrow evening.”

“Did the old feelings come back?” Mama asked. “Or did they never leave?”

“I’m starting to think they never left.”

“Interesting,” Papa said, sounding amused. “We suspected as much.”

“And does she return your affection?” Mama asked.

Before I answered, I got up to pour myself a glass of whiskey and returned to sit across from them. I looked toward the foyer, listening for the sounds of any curious sisters. “Are the girls all in bed?”

“That’s right.” Papa’s expression had changed from amused to serious. “What’s wrong? I can see it in your eyes.”

I lowered my voice. “Louisa told me something disturbing tonight.” I took a moment, unsure how to describe what I didn’t fully understand. “When she was a child, before the Linds, she suffered abuse of a particularly heinous kind from a man. The kind that would keep her from desiring a marriage.”

Mama gasped as tears filled her eyes. “Was it her father?”

“No, she didn’t know him.” I swallowed a generous portion of my drink. “I have a feeling it was right before we found her and brought her back here with us.”

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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