Empire by Edward Cline Page A

Yorktown. Ihave told no one.”
    “Not Mr. Kenrick?”
    “I will tell him now.”
    Jack smiled a cautionary smile. “He is not a needle, Etáin.”
    Etáin’s face was serene. “No, he is not. Rather, he is the south.”
    * * *
    Hugh Kenrick was in the field with Mr. Settle and Bristol, marking out sections for the spring planting of corn and barley, when Mr. Spears came from the great house to inform him of his visitor.
    Hugh frowned in surprise, then said, “Have Miss Chance fix us some tea, will you, Spears? And see that Miss McRae is comfortable. I will come down shortly.”
    “Yes, sir,” said the valet with a nod, and turned to hike back to the great house.
    Hugh finished instructing Mr. Settle about the corn and barley acreage, then mounted his horse and rode back to the house. Inside, he put on a waistcoat and washed his hands before descending the stairs and crossing the breezeway to the supper room. He found Etáin admiring Westcott’s portrait of his family. A tea service sat on the table. The girl turned to him as he came through the doors. “Good morning, Hugh.”
    “Good morning, Etáin. My apologies for having made you wait.”
    The girl did not immediately reply. She shook her head and said, “No, Hugh. It is I who owe you an apology, for the same reason.”
    “Wait? Wait for what?” He said it, almost mechanically, but knew instantly what she meant. He allowed himself some hope, and added, “You are forgiven, for whatever reason that may be.”
    “I have just come from seeing Mr. Frake,” said Etáin. “We…are to be married.”
    This time, he allowed himself some time before he replied. And now it seemed as if a dooming eternity passed between each of their exchanges. Hugh remarked, “Yes…of course…. ” With a flickering, pained smile, he added again, “You are still forgiven…Etáin…. ”
    “Thank you, Hugh.” The girl sat down at the table and studied him for a while. The tea service was near her, but she did not glance at it. “I want you to know that…I do not esteem you any the less…. It was a difficult choice…. I am neither indifferent to you, nor fearful of you…. I wish thereexisted a way to spare you the cruelty.”
    “If such a way existed, it would be a kindness…a worse cruelty,” remarked Hugh after another eternity. He heard himself speak the words, but they seemed to have been uttered by another person. After a moment, he shook his head. “I am not privileged to enquire into your criteria, Etáin. And I hope that you will not think it vain of me for knowing how difficult a choice you were faced with. You know that I am a proud man. I know that I am not a Boeotian. If I were, a riddle would not have occurred to you.”
    Etáin smiled for the first time, but only briefly. “And
there
is one reason it was so difficult.” She paused. “About my silly riddle, Hugh…. Jack is my north. He always has been. I know that now. But you are not a mere needle. You are a different direction. I do not know how else to explain it.”
    Hugh shook his head once. “No explanation is necessary, Etáin.”
    “Then why do I feel that I owe you one?”
    Hugh remained on the other side of the table that separated them. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the tabletop, and spoke almost as though he were scolding her. “You honor me with the feeling, but I beg you not to entertain guilt for your decision. That would distress me almost as much as it might you. You do not owe me an explanation of a private judgment, which should make you happy…. And I wish most earnestly for your future happiness…. ”
    Etáin nodded. “You have paid me so many kindnesses, Hugh — the music, the concert at the Palace, your company, every moment since we first met, from that first ball, to this moment — and I hope you do not think me ungrateful.”
    Hugh straightened to his full height. “They were not kindnesses, Etáin. Remember that I am not a kind person. Nor were they