Free Lady of Lincoln by Ann Barker

learn all that we can.’
    ‘That is very kind of you, but I fear that Emily may not be able to come,’ said the canon politely. ‘She usually sits with her grandfather in the evenings. Furthermore, she has been away visiting friends recently, and has been neglecting her duty, andshe is not one to shirk, are you, my dear?’
    ‘No, Papa,’ Emily replied, feeling almost sick with disappointment .
    ‘I am quite sure that she is not,’ agreed Mrs Trimmer, ‘but on such an occasion, her duty would be calling her in two directions , would it not? Duty of kindness to the stranger is important too.’
    ‘Why yes, indeed,’ the canon agreed thoughtfully.
    ‘Perhaps, then, Miss Whittaker might sit with her grandfather earlier in the day; then if it would ease your mind, dear sir, I could send my old nurse round to sit with him whilst you are away from the house.’
    ‘That would be very kind, Mrs Trimmer. Emily, we are very grateful, are we not?’
    ‘Yes indeed, Papa,’ Emily agreed, wishing that she could make her own thanks without looking as if she needed to be prompted to do so.
    She glanced at Mrs Trimmer and, seeing her smiling, suddenly remembered the fire irons and could not help smiling back. It occurred to her that in this new friendship with Mrs Trimmer, she might find the mutuality that her relationship with Nathalie would always lack.
    ‘Then shall we say next Tuesday?’ asked Aurelia. ‘Emily, I shall rely upon you to help me with finding dependable tradesmen to supply the things that I need.’
    ‘Of course,’ Emily replied, before her father could assure their visitor that his daughter would do all that was proper. ‘Shall I call round tomorrow, perhaps?’
    ‘Please do.’
    With that, polite farewells were made, and the visitors were gone, and although they had only been there quite briefly, it seemed to Emily that the house felt quite empty after their departure. 

CHAPTER EIGHT
    ‘I have heard from Mrs Fanshawe today,’ Emily told her grandfather that evening as she sat at his bedside. ‘She is keeping very well, she tells me, and she is so happy that Mr Fanshawe is with her.’ She sighed and put the letter down on her lap for a moment. ‘Was that how you felt with Grandmama?’ she asked him. ‘I suppose it must have been.’ She stroked the white, papery hand that lay on top of the coverlet. ‘I don’t mean to pry,’ she said apologetically. ‘It’s just that I—’ She stopped suddenly, then picked up the letter again.
    ‘The sea air is doing her good, she says. Mr Fanshawe is making her walk by the sea every day, and she is sleeping much better at night, but that may be because—’ Again she broke off. This time, she was silent for quite a long time. Then at last, she said softly, ‘Grandpapa, I met a gentleman this week. His name … no, perhaps I won’t tell you his name just yet, but …’ Again she paused. ‘Grandpapa, do you think it is too late for me? I mean, to have what Mr and Mrs Fanshawe have; what you and Grandmama had? This gentleman would never look at me, I feel sure, but—’ She stopped, hearing footsteps outside and, as the door opened softly and her father looked in, he heard his daughter reciting the words of the Lord’s Prayer.
     
    The following day, as she had promised, Emily walked around the cathedral to the house where the Trimmers resided. She hadonly just reached the gate at the bottom of the path when the two boys came hurrying out.
    ‘Miss Whittaker, Miss Whittaker!’ they both exclaimed, so excitedly that it was difficult to distinguish one voice from another. ‘Have you come to take us up the tower? May we go now?’
    Seeing that she could easily find herself dragged through the cathedral doors by main force before she had even had a chance to speak to Mrs Trimmer, Emily said ‘I need to speak to your mama. Then perhaps we may talk about it later.’
    ‘We’ll take you in,’ said the older boy, who, Emily remembered , was called