Empire by Edward Cline Read Free Book Online

of Hugh’s visit, and dismissed her daughter. “Go,
fille
,” she said to Etáin, “entertain Mr. Kenrick, but first bring me a cup of Bohea.”
    In the parlor, Etáin seemed happy to see Hugh, and nervous. His calls always had a purpose, and their times alone together were rare and special. At the Governor’s Palace, surrounded by so many people and immersed in social protocol, she had been able to spend less than a minute with him. She said now, laughing, “Mr. Vishonn told my father at the Palace that had he a spare son, he would order him to court me, so he could some day welcome me as a daughter-in-law!”
    Hugh smiled as he watched Etáin fix the tea. “Mr. Vishonn would not have said that, had he been sober. I would ascribe his remark to one too many glasses of the Governor’s sillery.”
    “Hugh!” exclaimed Etáin. “It is not like you to tease!”
    “I was not teasing
you
, Etáin. Mr. Vishonn often decants his soul in direct proportion to his helpings from the punchbowl. You see, he asked
me
that evening if I would think of standing for burgess.”
    Etáin paused in her chore to study him. “That is an amusing thought —
you
, as a pompous burgess! He ought to have known better than to ask you that.”
    “He does know better,” said Hugh. “However, it is an amusing property of wine that, depending on the volume of its consumption, it can either erase knowledge, or warp it with what appears to be true knowledge.”
    “Well, then you shall have none here!” said Etáin. She paused, though, and asked, “Unless you would prefer it to tea?”
    Hugh shook his head. “No, thank you. Tea will be fine.”
    She finished preparing the tea, poured him a cup, and took a cup back out to her mother. When she returned, she sat down opposite Hugh and asked, as she fixed her own tea, “Have you so much idle time that you call today?”
    “It is not an idle call I pay, Etáin,” said Hugh. He put down his cup and saucer on the tea table that stood between him and the girl. “I…am anxious to know if you are close to solving your riddle.”
    The cup and saucer in Etáin’s hands froze in the air. After a moment,she put them down, too, and said, with gentle regret, “No, Hugh, I have not.” She saw the look of resigned acceptance of her answer on his face. She studied him for a moment with undisguised fondness. “You should know that the day after we returned from Williamsburg, Jack called on us, and he took me for a stroll along Queen Anne Street. Of course, he knew about our going to the Palace. Everyone in Caxton knew. Mr. Barret is to write a little item about the concert for the
Courier
.” She paused. “Jack asked me the same question, Hugh.”
    Hugh cocked his head in surprise. “Prompted, no doubt, by disquieting jealousies of his own.” He shook his head. “You see, Mrs. Vere came to town that day to find some cinnamon and oranges for the wine cake she knows I like, and saw the two of you, and, in the course of complaining about Mr. Rittles’s prices, let drop that little complaint, too.” He paused. “That is partly why I am here.”
    Etáin’s expression of discomfort changed to one that was unconvincingly distant. “You both honor me with such worry, Mr. Kenrick. And I am presuming that you, as well, appreciate my dilemma…and know that I am not insensitive to your own…and to his…. ” She picked up her cup and saucer, took a sip of the tea, and rested the delicate porcelain on her lap.
    Hugh knew that she was exerting a self-control that was not natural to her. He felt proud of her, and wished he could rise and embrace her. He saw in her eyes that she knew this, and would not protest if he did. But his impulse was arrested by the sight of her and the stature of the woman she was becoming. So he said, “Well, until you have solved it, I will press you no more for a decision.” He added, “Neither Jack nor I has a right to.”
    Etáin nodded slowly, then said, “But, until