O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,76

bring your mother this parcel from Lady Sayle. Is she here?”

As if on some stage cue, an older woman with lines of weariness and anxiety etched into her face appeared, scolding, “Alice, what are you about leaving Miss Emma standing in the cold? Come in, miss, if you’d be so good…” Her eyes fell on Selim and widened. “Sir,” she added uncertainly.

“Oh, this is a friend of Sir Joseph,” Emma said carelessly, dropping the parcel into her hostess’s arms.

“Mr. Isyanci,” Alice supplied, clearly recalling him from his last visit, though he could not remember her.

“Indeed,” Emma murmured, not looking at him, for it was the name he had given himself two and a half years ago to save Joe the embarrassment of entertaining a disgraced member of the Sultan’s family. Isyanci was, in fact, the Turkish word for foreigner.

Selim bowed slightly in acknowledgment.

“Please, sit,” the woman begged, indicating the chair by the kitchen fire. “I’m afraid Fairnie isn’t well—”

“So I heard. Has Dr. Stone called?”

“Oh, no, miss. I’m sure Fairnie’ll be right as rain by tomorrow. He’s asleep now, but I know he’ll want to thank her ladyship for her gift—and yourselves for bringing it.”

Emma sat. Selim chose to stand, leaning against the wall by the door, watching.

“Let me bring you a piece of my fruit cake—”

“Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Fairnie, I can’t stop today,” Emma replied with her charming smile. “I really just wanted a quick word. I don’t know if my brother has spoken to Mr. Fairnie? I often find men make wrong assumptions because they do not put their intentions into words, so I thought I would just tell you that although Sir Joseph has been away for much of the year, he fully appreciates your difficulties over the last year. There have been Fairnies at Brightoaks for so long that he would not dream of evicting you because the rent is difficult. It can be arranged as a loan while Mr. Fairnie gets back on his feet.”

Mrs. Fairnie dropped on to a stool, dashing her apron over her eyes. “You are kind,” she gasped. “Sir Joseph is kind.”

“No, but he will come and speak to your husband. I just want you to know it will be well, if not easy.”

Mrs. Fairnie rose once more, glaring at her daughter. “Now, Alice has something she wishes to say to you.” The woman stamped over to a cupboard, casting a surreptitious glance at Selim as she went. He smiled amiably but did not move.

Alice stood in front of Emma, her back rigid, and said stiffly, “I hope you’ll forgive my presumption last night, miss. It won’t happen again, if only you give me another chance.”

Emma blinked. “Another chance? For what? Alice, I could not dismiss you if I wanted to, and of course, I don’t. We both know I was in the wrong. I was ill-tempered and rude—unforgivably so now that we are no longer children, and you will not let yourself answer back.” She smiled ruefully. “I forget sometimes that I am grown-up, and things are not as they were. That is my fault, not yours.”

The rigidity left Alice’s body, and she sat abruptly on the stool her mother had just vacated. “That’s very kind of you to say, miss. We both know you didn’t need to. Thing is, we need my wages, and if I were to be turned off—”

“I can’t imagine that ever happening, Alice,” Emma said. She opened her reticule and took something out. “I want to give you this by way of an apology.”

Alice reached out and took it from her fingers. A brooch, Selim thought.

“Oh, miss, this is too fine for me,” Alice breathed. “I could not wear it for fear of losing it, and truly there is no need. All I want is to keep my place at the big house.”

“But it isn’t all you deserve. You may sell the brooch.” She held Alice’s gaze. “I thought you might like to buy seeds and other necessities with the proceeds. Just to have a fresh start here.”

Alice’s eyes widened farther. A spark of excitement lit her face and died. “I could not, miss. It is too much, and in any case, who would buy it from me? They’d think I stole it.”

“I thought of that,” Emma said cheerfully, returning to her reticule and producing a thin roll of banknotes, which she laid on the table. “So I thought I would buy it from you. If you were willing to sell.”

Again, their eyes