Emily's Choice (Rough Draft)

Chapter Five

In sharp contrast to their quiet, almost pleasant journey back to Lawrence Manor, their reception there was far more chaotic than they could have ever imagined. Mrs. Lawrence, upon being informed of the pair's return, left her room to scold them in the hall. She stood halfway down the staircase, looking down at the two young women.

"So, you have returned," she said, her tone cold and reproving.

"We have," Emily answered, taking off her bonnet. She handed it to the waiting maid. "Dr. O'Connor says Father simply has a bad cold. Is that not completely absurd? I would never have thought Father would succumb to a cold!"

Her optimistic, cheerful tone did nothing to allay the disapproval on her aunt's face. "You are an ungrateful girl, Emily Lawrence," Mrs. Lawrence accused. "And you as well, Rosalind Emerson! To think you would both run off without heeding my advice. It is the most disrespectful you could do!"

"Aunt Lawrence, pray do not upset yourself on that point," Emily said wearily, abandoning any attempt at lightness. "I would have run off without heeding anyone's advice."

Mrs. Lawrence's eyes landed on the book Rosalind held. "And what is that?" she demanded, reaching to take it from her niece. "Are you accepting gifts from that vile man?"

"Vile man?" Rosalind repeated in astonishment. "Aunt, I don't understand you. How can Mr. Williams be considered a 'vile man'? He, and his friend, were nothing but courteous!"

"It is not for you to know," Mrs. Lawrence said imperiously. She held out her hand. "Hand that volume over to me at once. I am willing to forgive this impertinence and disobedience so long is it never happens again."

Defiantly, Rosalind shook her head, holding her borrowed book close to her chest. "I will not!" she answered. "It is merely on loan to me, and I must return it once I am finished."

Mrs. Lawrence glared at her, going down one step. Swiftly, Emily slipped between them. "Aunt Lawrence, until my father is quite well, I will be going daily to Waverly Place, however much it distresses you," she informed her aunt. "There is nothing you can say to change my mind on this matter."

While it drew her aunt's attention away from Rosalind, it was the possibly the worst thing she could have said at that moment. Mrs. Lawrence promptly went into hysterics, wailing that no one appreciated her. Despite the indignity of it, she collapsed on the steps, her voice rising quickly. "You are ungrateful, deceitful girls! Both of you!"

Though Rosalind hurried to the woman's side, attempting to calm her aunt, Emily sent for her aunt's maid and let that estimable person handle the situation. "That was hardly kind," Rosalind remarked when the maid led Mrs. Lawrence up to her rooms.

"Her behavior was hardly necessary," Emily replied, gesturing in her aunt's direction. "I have a headache."

"Poor Emily," Rosalind said, putting an arm around her cousin's shoulders. "You have the world on your shoulders tonight, don't you?"

"Not the whole world," Emily answered with a yawn. "Just my own. Goodnight, Rosalind. I want to walk over to Waverly Place as soon as possible tomorrow. I hope you don't mind?"

"I will be ready."

~

Promptly after breakfast the next morning, Emily and Rosalind set off for Waverly Place. Their aunt, they had been informed, was keeping to her bed on the complaint of her nerves. Of Sir Percival, there was no word of where he was or what his plans might be. Emily left him a note, appraising him of his uncle's condition.