Seek out Emily

Blackwood had long since disappeared into the trees.

You watched him go until he was out of sight before making your way towards the clearing where the servants were preparing the hunting party's luncheon.

Emily was arranging plates upon one of the long tables beneath the shade of an oak.

She looked up as you approached.

"Oh."

"Mr. Thomas."

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

She smiled politely.

"Not at all."

The last of the baskets had already been unpacked, leaving only a handful of small tasks before the gentlemen returned.

You hesitated.

"There is something I wished to ask you."

Emily's expression became curious.

"Of course."

You glanced around to ensure nobody was within earshot.

"I hope you won't think me rude. But has Mr. Blackwood... spoken with you much since his arrival?"

The smile disappeared from her face.

"...Why do you ask?"

"I happened to see him spying on you just now. And I thought he seemed rather more interested than courtesy alone would require."

Emily lowered her eyes.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

"I thought perhaps..."

She sighed softly.

"I thought perhaps I was imagining it."

"So he has approached you."

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"A few times. He makes me so uncomfortable"

She folded her hands together.

"But he always seems to find a reason to keep me talking."

"I tell him I have work to do."

"He apologises."

"And then asks another question."

You frowned.

"Has he ever touched you?"

Emily quickly shook her head.

"No."

"He hasn't."

"But sometimes..."

She searched for the right words.

"...he looks at me in a way that makes me want to leave really fast or something unfortunate could happen."

"I'm sorry."

"I haven't told anyone."

"I didn't want to make trouble."

She smiled sadly.

The two of you began walking slowly around the edge of the clearing while the other servants remained busy with their work.

After a while, Emily spoke again.

"My mother always told me that girls in service should learn how to disappear."

"What did she mean?"

"To be polite. To be quiet. To never give gentlemen a reason to remember your face."

She laughed softly, though there was little humour in it.

"I've tried."

"It seems not everyone is willing to let me."

"You shouldn't have to make yourself invisible."

Emily looked at you.

"I know."

"It just feels safer sometimes."

The conversation gradually drifted elsewhere.

She told you about the small village where she had grown up after her father passed away.

About learning her letters from the local priest.

About borrowing worn novels whenever she could persuade someone to lend them.

"I've always wondered what lies beyond places like this."

"The sea."

"The great cities."

"Even Scotland."

She smiled, almost embarrassed.

"I suppose they're foolish dreams."

"I don't think they are."

"No?"

"No."

"They're your dreams. And everyone deserves those."

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Emily's smile reached her eyes.

"You're very kind. I don't often meet people who ask what I hope for."

Before you could answer, one of the senior servants called for Emily.

She turned reluctantly towards the voice.

"I should go."

"Of course."

She took a few steps before pausing.

"Mr. Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Not only for asking."

She smiled warmly.

"...but for looking out for me."

As Emily returned to her duties, you contemplated Blackwood's behavior.

His behaviour had remained perfectly respectable on the surface.

Yet you could no longer dismiss the feeling that his interest in Emily was neither innocent nor likely to end of its own accord.