Seek out Edward

You found Sir Edward near the temporary encampment, speaking with one of Lord Ashcombe's gamekeepers while the gentlemen prepared for the afternoon's hunt.

He excused himself as you approached.

"Thomas. You wished to speak with me?"

"If you have a moment, sir."

Edward immediately noticed the seriousness in your expression.

"Walk with me."

The two of you moved a short distance away from the others.

"What is it?"

You recounted everything you had witnessed.

Blackwood lingering around Emily. The uncomfortable conversation. Your interruption.

Edward listened without speaking.

When you had finished, he remained silent for a few moments.

"I don't care for the sound of it."

"Nor I, sir."

"If events unfolded as you've described, then you did the decent thing."

You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders.

"However..."

Edward looked at you with a patient expression.

"I would ask that you exercise a little restraint in future."

You frowned.

"Sir?"

"Blackwood may be unpleasant. He may even be a buffoon. But he is still Lord Ashcombe's guest. If every slight becomes a confrontation, it will reflect poorly upon our own household as much as his."

"I understand."

Edward placed a reassuring hand upon your shoulder.

"I would never ask you to ignore genuine wrongdoing. But neither would I have you charging headlong into every disagreement. There is wisdom in choosing one's battles."

"I shall remember that, sir."

His expression softened.

"And for what it is worth..."

"I'm pleased you cared enough to step in."

A hunting horn echoed through the trees.

Edward glanced towards the gathering gentlemen.

"I must return."

"So must you."

The conversation ended there.

---

Later that afternoon, as you carried a stack of folded table linens back towards the house, you spotted Emily arranging flowers in the entrance hall.

She looked up and smiled.

A little tired.

But steadier than before.

"Mr. Thomas."

"Miss Carter."

"I wanted to thank you again."

"You needn't."

"I do."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

She laughed quietly.

"About Martha."

"Martha?"

"If she'd been in my place..."

A genuine smile appeared.

"...Mr. Blackwood would probably have apologised to *her*."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"I believe you're right."

"She never seems frightened of anyone."

"No."

Emily looked thoughtfully towards the kitchens.

"I wish I were a little more like her."

"You don't need to be Martha."

She met your eyes.

"No?"

"You're just very kind. There's strength in that too."

Emily smiled, though a hint of uncertainty remained.

"I hope you're right."

Before either of you could continue, another maid’s voice rang out from further down the corridor.

"Emily!"

She sighed dramatically.

She gave you one last grateful smile before hurrying away to answer.

You watched her disappear through the kitchen doors.

She was smiling again.

Perhaps not as confidently as before.

But enough to make you believe she would be all right.