O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,73

should not have wasted theirs in parting.

And she should not be quarreling with old friends who needed her help. Or sitting in her grand home feeling sorry for herself while others truly suffered.

Nell, the chambermaid, came in with a cheerful good morning and threw back the curtains. The fog had lifted, leaving only a faint haze over a pale sun. It would be a pleasant, wintry day.

But with the daylight came doubt. Had she really seen what she imagined? Had she dreamed it? She had no proof that Selim was dead.

No. If it was not his spirit, it was a dream sent to her for a reason. To wake her up to reality and stop her wasting time.

Emma rose, washed, and dressed with sadness tugging at her, but new determination in her heart.

Finding only Joe and Hazel at breakfast, she said at once, “Joe, what is the problem with Tom Fairnie?” She sat down next to Hazel with only a cup of coffee and fixed her surprised brother with her most serious gaze.

“He was ill and couldn’t look after his land as he should,” Joe said. “Too proud to accept help from his neighbors, let alone from me. His crops failed—as did many this year—and apparently, he has no savings.”

“Then Alice’s wages are all they have?” No wonder she had glimpsed desperation in the girl’s eyes last night. She must have feared Emma would ask Hazel to dismiss her.

Joe nodded and pronged his last piece of bacon.

Emma took a last gulp of coffee and jumped up. “I need to find Alice.”

“She isn’t here,” Hazel said. “Her little brother brought a message that she will be late because her father is poorly again.”

“Oh, no.”

“I made sure the doctor was called,” Hazel offered. “And I mean to go there later on with a gift.”

“I don’t think he needs the doctor so much as a swift kick to keep him off the ale,” Joe said dryly.

“What will happen to him if he can’t pay his rent?” Emma asked. “Will you evict him?”

Joe sighed. “No, not if I can avoid it, but I can’t ignore it, or no one will bother paying. We’ll come to some arrangement of loans, I suppose, as we have with others who’ve struggled with the horrendous harvest.”

Emma nodded slowly. “He’ll need money for seeds, too, won’t he?” She knew the answer already. Alice’s family, like so many others all over the country, was going under. She could not change the whole country, but she could make a difference here.

“Hazel, are you doing your rounds of gifts to the tenants today?” she asked.

“You could help, if you like,” Hazel offered. “I’ll take the lower farms, and you take the upper? That way, you could see the Fairnies.”

“Of course.” Emma jumped to her feet. “I just need to fetch a couple of things.”

“I’ll have someone ready to drive the pony and trap,” Hazel said behind her.

“Thank you!”

In her bedchamber, she raked through her jewel box until she found a trinket she thought Alice might accept—pretty but not too obviously expensive. Eventually, she landed on a little brooch and dropped it into her reticule along with the considerable remains of her generous allowance.

No wonder some thought it wrong that she had all this to waste while good people like Alice’s family lived on the verge of starvation. Or worse.

She wore her warm, ermine-lined cloak and a pretty bonnet as was expected, and went down to make sure the trap was loaded. Jim, another old childhood friend who now worked in the stables, would probably be driving it. She looked forward to picking his brains about what else she could do.

Without stepping on Hazel’s toes, of course. Hazel was a kind and efficient lady of Brightoaks. But Emma had been born here. And until she was married and had her own home, she needed to contribute something here, to make a difference and not waste the life she had been granted, a life that could be taken any moment. Like Selim’s.

She ignored the ache in her heart. She could not save Selim, but perhaps she could save Alice’s family. And tonight, when she had done something for others, she could ask Joe about Selim.

Vaguely, she registered Joe and Hazel at the foot of the stairs, not arguing, which they did rarely, but certainly in intense conversation. Joe finished it by pressing a quick kiss on her lips. And Hazel laughed and pushed him toward the library.

It was a small scene, an everyday intimacy