Page 19 of The Baroness of Sin
Not the kindest thing her brother had ever done, but Martha admitted to herself that, if Emma hadn’t forewarned her, his plan might have worked exactly as intended.
“What do you intend to do?” Emma asked her.
“Nothing different,” Martha shrugged. “I have done nothing untoward for a lady in my position. Benjamin may bluster and sputter but will have to learn to endure idle gossip. That is something that many ladies of the ton simply must endure,” Martha mused. “Will you be here to endure our dearest brother's interrogation alongside me?”
“Me? Oh no, no, no, no. You will have your hands full with Benjamin enough as it is. I will make myself scarce. Visit some friends in London, I think,” Emma said apologetically.
“Of course,” Martha sighed a bit despondent. She could hardly blame her sister for wanting to avoid family confrontation. She didn’t particularly like the idea of being at odds with her brother, but that was what life was like with siblings sometimes.
She was wrong, though. Benjamin could do more than object.
* * *
“Brother! What a pleasant surprise!” Martha cried out at the sight of her brother in her foyer, followed closely by her aunt. She wrapped her older brother in a tight hug and hoped the affection would make the accusation he intended to surprise her with much more difficult to deliver.
“Martha, dear sister,” he said as he delicately pulled her off of him. “Don’t forget about our dear Aunt.”
“Oh! Aunt Barbara! I was so excited I didn’t even see you come in behind Benjamin.” She turned and offered her aunt a hug which the older lady received warmly.
“Good to see you, too, my dear child,” Barbara said and held her niece tightly before releasing her.
Her aunt and brother had dressed oddly alike, but Martha would never draw attention to it. Benjamin dressed in drab blacks and greys out of humbleness, a mark on his dedication to a life of piety. Still, it did little to help his gaunt features, developed from more nights of study than sleep, and made him look a good deal older than he actually was. The early signs of greying also didn’t help, though Martha was wise enough to not bring that up.
On the other hand, Barbara dressed in deep dark reds and purples to compliment her pale complexion. From portraits, Martha knew she bore a striking resemblance to their mother, but they were often juxtaposed because of her harder, sterner face and features.
Still, they made quite the pair, especially when set against the light and bright colors that still accented Martha’s manse.
Martha turned back to her brother. “I am surprised you didn’t send word ahead of your arrival. I would have made much more of an event of your visit.”
“I wouldn’t want any sort of special reception,” Benjamin tried to brush it off, a bit of gruffness in his voice to push for the end of the conversation.
That was an insinuation Martha wasn’t keen on giving into. “Still, what do I owe this surprise visit, as much of a pleasure as it is?” Martha looked from her brother to her aunt with feigned obliviousness. Her family felt the weight of awkwardness of the question, even without knowing that Martha was intentionally pressing them. Her question was very reasonable of course.
“Perhaps we should talk about it in private once we have a chance to sit down,” Benjamin said, partially conceding to the dower mood that was sure to follow the revealed truth of their visit.
“Is something wrong?” Martha asked.
“We will discuss it after I have had a chance to shake the road weariness from myself,” Benjamin reiterated more firmly.
Martha had the footmen assist him to his room before turning to her aunt. “Will you offer any explanation?” she asked flatly.
Aunt Barbara shook her head. “I will defer to your brother. While your father is away, that is what is proper. He will want to talk with you first. Once that has been resolved, then we can discuss it as a family. Until then, I will retire to my room as well; I am afraid the trip to London from the countryside has proved quite taxing.” As a new pair of footmen carried her aunt's luggage Martha heard her aunt mention. “I’m sure it will be fine dear; you know how your brother is.”
* * *
“So,” Benjamin cleared his throat and set down his teacup. This was the third time he had cleared his throat in the last few minutes. Martha just sat and stared at him sternly, waiting for him to dare to suggest what he had come here to suggest. “I must admit, sister, I do not come to Mayfair on what I would consider pleasant terms.”
“And yet you refuse to elaborate on those terms,” Martha's tone was sharp. She had been enjoying torturing her brother to some small degree, but now it was far too drawn out, and, frankly put, Martha was impatient. Watching her brother dally about the topic was almost insultingly frustrating.
“Fair enough. Suppose I need to come out and just say it.” Benjamin took a deep breath. “I have been hearing rumors regarding your behavior, Martha.”
Martha gave a firm nod before raising her chin in preparation to defend herself. “What sort of rumors, Benjamin? They were believable enough that you felt you had to come to London to confront me.” Martha took some small satisfaction as she watched her brother visibly pale at her words.
“Well, it has come to my attention that you left mourning and…” he paused, swallowing a bit before he allowed himself to continue speaking, “and that you have begun courting.”
“I see,” Martha said and tried to push him for more, “and what else did you hear?”
“Else?” Benjamin flipped from apologetically embarrassed to suspicious in a heartbeat. “What else was there to hear?”
