"What does that mean?"
Lucy arrived and collected our plates. Celia waited until she'd left before she answered. "I know you see him more than you let on. I know you...like him."
"What of it?"
"He's a ghost, Em. You cannot think of him..." She lowered her voice. "...in that way."
"I think of him as a friend." I folded my hands on the tablecloth to stop them shaking. It was a lie of course, but I didn't think my sister was prepared for the truth-that I loved a spirit. I would always love him.
"I'm not a fool. I know you care for him as more than a friend." She too placed her hands on the table, steepling them as if in prayer. "I recognize a girl who thinks she's in
love when I see one. And while I sympathize-."
"Sympathize!" I shot to my feet, bumping my chair and sending it tumbling backwards to the floor. "How would you know how I feel? You've never cared romantically for any man. That part of your heart shriveled up long ago, if it ever existed at all."
Her lips flattened. Her nostrils flared and tears pooled in her eyes. My anger evaporated as suddenly as it had flared at the sight of her struggling not to shed them. "I'm going to my room," I said.
"Emily!"
If she was hoping for an apology she wouldn't get one. I regretted my outburst but not what I'd said. Celia had never been in love. How could she know what I felt for Jacob? "I'm going to my room and don't wish to be disturbed," I said, rounding the table.
"But you wanted to tell me something about him! I'll listen-."
"Forget it. It doesn't matter." I passed Lucy outside the dining room. The red and green jelly she carried on a platter wobbled when she stopped to let me pass.
"Don't you want jelly, miss?"
"No thank you, Lucy."
Her face fell. "But I made it 'specially. Mrs. White says my jellies are a marvel."
It did look rather delicious. "Very well. Bring me some to
my room, please." I tried to smile because she looked upset. "Thank you, Lucy."
She bobbed a curtsey that sent the jelly sliding. Luckily she righted the platter and continued into the dining room without mishap.
I ran upstairs and changed into my nightgown then flopped on the bed, suddenly too tired to sit up and read like I usually would.
I was woken by Jacob in the deepest, darkest part of the night. I began to scold him but the look on his face stopped me. By the light of the candle he carried, I could just make out the dread imprinted on every exquisite feature.