Lady of Lincoln Read Free Page B

Papa? What is your text for the day?’ In this deft way, she managed to turn the subject, and Dr Boyle was not mentioned at all during the rest of the meal.
    After Canon Whittaker had finished, he made his excuses and went to his study, leaving Emily on her own. She went upstairs to see her grandfather, but finding that he was asleep, she collected her sewing for the poor from the linen cupboard and went downstairs to occupy herself until the tea tray should be brought in.
    Her father came in a little later and smiled approvingly at her occupation. ‘It is very pleasing to see you engaged so unexceptionally , my dear,’ he said. Fleetingly, she thought of all the other occasions when he had come in and seen her similarly occupied. Pleasing it might be; unusual, by no means. If he had found her with her feet up, reading a scurrilous novel now….
    ‘Shall I read you one of the sermons from this volume?’ her father asked, interrupting her musings.
    Emily saw that in his hand he had a book from which she had heard him read on countless occasions. ‘Yes please, Papa,’ she answered. ‘Would you be so good as to read the one which concerns diligence?’
    ‘By all means,’ her father answered, beaming. He would have been less pleased had he realized that she had only chosen it because she knew it off by heart, and would be perfectly capable of answering any questions upon it, even if she allowed her mind to wander so much that she did not hear a single word he said. And so, while Canon Whittaker was reading about diligence , obedience and sobriety, and Emily was bending her neat head over a plain shirt and finishing it off with plain stitches, her mind was picturing that frivolous little bonnet in the milliner’s window.
     
    ‘I think I shall call upon Mrs Fanshawe today, Papa,’ Emily said, as they sat at breakfast the following morning.
    ‘Mrs Fanshawe?’ her father repeated, looking as if he did not entirely approve of such a course of action.
    ‘Yes, Papa. She is expecting a baby, you know.’
    Her father looked as if he would have liked to reprove her for being indelicate, but all he said was, ‘Yes, indeed.’
    ‘She is becoming rather anxious and nervous,’ Emily went on, then added craftily, ‘The doctor thought that I might be able to raise her spirits.’
    The canon’s face lightened. ‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘You might lift her thoughts to a higher plane. She is a delicate youngthing, and might easily not survive the coming ordeal, but if you can turn her from worldly matters and prepare her mind for Heaven, you will have done some good.’
    Emily was surprised at how annoyed she felt at the tenor of this speech, and was glad that the servant came in with the newspaper at that point, thus distracting her father with the news of Nelson’s latest exploits.
    She did not make the mistake of thinking that her visit to Mrs Fanshawe would be welcomed early in the day, and busied herself with household tasks until eleven o’clock. Even so, she discovered on arrival at the young clergyman’s residence that his pretty wife was still abed, but would welcome a visit from her new friend in her chamber.
    Emily entered Mrs Fanshawe’s room with a kind of envious longing, for the contrast between this feminine environment and her own rather plain accommodation seemed even more stark now that she had had the chance to view her room in the light of this very different one.
    As she went in, Nathalie laid aside the book that she was reading with rather a guilty expression. ‘It is an … an improving book,’ she said hastily.
    ‘Really? What is it?’ Emily asked her, prompted by a spirit of pure mischief.
    Mrs Fanshawe bit her lip. ‘It is a novel, but pray do not tell anyone,’ implored the younger woman. ‘It would be sure to get back to the dean or the bishop or some such person, and then Ernest would be in trouble and all on my account.’
    ‘I should not dream of telling anyone,’ Emily replied.