Free Winter Is Past by Ruth Axtell Morren Page B

Testament—”
    He waved a hand, almost in relief at having this topic so easily solved. “Old, new, Tanakh, HaBrit Hachadashah —you have my permission to read her what you like. I was exposed to both as a lad, and you can see what little harm—or good—they did me.”
    â€œThank you” was all she answered.
    She seemed satisfied and resumed her seat. Simon didn’t leave, but began to walk slowly about the room, one hand covering the other in a fist. He almost envied Miss Breton her faith. She had a cause she’d be willing to lose her job over, he’d wager. How clear and simple things must be for her.
    He thought about her tenderness with his daughter just now in the other room. He wished he could do something for her to express his real gratitude. He finally stopped before her chair.
    â€œI have been meaning to thank you for what you have done for Rebecca. She truly seems happier since you’ve been here.”
    She looked up at him with a smile, and he suddenly saw the resemblance to her brother. They both had a sort of radiance.
    â€œIt is I who should be thanking you for giving me the opportunity to come here,” she said.
    Simon didn’t reply right away but stood, considering her. On impulse he said, “I would like you to attend the dinner party next week.”
    She opened her mouth in stupefaction. “Oh, no, sir! That is not at all necessary.”
    â€œI know it isn’t. Still, I would like you in attendance.”
    â€œPlease, sir, I…I would rather not….”
    He peered at her more closely, not understanding her reaction. Fool that he was, he had thought she’d be pleased, even flattered. Why hadn’t he recalled her own admission of her opinion of Jews? Annoyed at both himself and her, he said, “I don’t want to argue with you about this, but I really must insist that you attend. You are Lord Skylar’s sister, for goodness’ sake. Yes, I know, I know, his half sister.
    â€œFurthermore, you are a lady in your own right, whether you choose to go by a title or not. I cannot have you not attend. I couldn’t face your brother ever again, for one thing, nor my own conscience, for that matter.”
    Panic was visible in her eyes. “Mr. Aguilar, please don’t concern yourself with appearances. My brother will understand if I decline to attend a dinner party. He knows perfectly well why I am here in your employ. He would never expect you to—”
    Simon waved his hand impatiently. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded! If I cared about appearances I would never have hired you in the first place.” His tone softened, sensing her aversion had nothing to do with him, but with some kind of fear on her part. “I merely thought perhaps you would enjoy an evening in polite society. You spend all your time in a little girl’s company. As much as I love my daughter, I know it must be draining to be in a sick child’s company twenty-four hours a day.”
    Her voice was perfectly composed. “Thank you for your consideration, but believe me, it is completely unnecessary. I am perfectly content to sit here.”
    He gave her an amused look, determined to get to the bottom of her refusal. “Do you always decline any and all overtures into society? Is that part of the reason you shut yourself away in the East End?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I know what you are—you are a reverse snob, are you not, running away from your own class?” He saw the dismay in her gray eyes and knew he had touched a nerve. “What are you afraid of? Possible contamination with sinners? You can’t expect me to believe you prefer to sit here alone night after night, hiding behind that gray governess garb. Is that the prescribed color of the Methodists, by the way? Is it the badge that proclaims them sin-free?”
    She stared at him, her cheeks pink, her lips pressed