Free A Turn of Light by Julie E Czerneda Page B

creaked . . .
    “I’d be happier if she was slipping out to see a young man.”
    “Aunt Sybb! Jenn would never—”
    . . . she stopped and nodded vigorously.
    “A pity. Many a good marriage began with playful indiscretion. You should try it sometime.”
    Had Aunt Sybb been into the cider?
    “Come now, Peggs,” their aunt continued. “We’re grown women. It’s natural to have a fancy for someone. Natural and healthy. Surely you do.”
    Jenn tightened her arm over the sketchpad and made sure she had a good grip on the plate. Nothing could make her budge from this spot now.
    But when Peggs finally answered, her voice was heavy. “Is it natural and healthy to want someone who doesn’t know you exist?”
    Who in Marrowdell didn’t know her sister? Jenn frowned.
    “Of course. As well as frustrating, maddening, and tiresome. Men can be such fools, adorable as they are. That’s when—” a pause during which she imagined their aunt gently patting Peggs’ hand, “—you turn to your family.”
    “Oh, no,” Peggs protested. “No. I don’t want—I don’t need—”
    “Oh, yes, you do. As does your father, not that he’ll take my good advice and scoop up that fine and capable Nahamm woman before someone else realizes old Jupp won’t live forever.”
    “Aunt Sybb!”
    This was better than one of Roche’s spooky storytellings in the Emms’ hayloft. Jenn eyed the out-of-reach counter wistfully; the plate grew heavier by the moment.
    “Don’t fuss, child. It’s unbecoming. There’s nothing wrong with a discreet word in the right ear. That’s the problem with this place. You’ve grown up too close together. No wonder it takes someone from outside to stir the pot, get people to notice who and what they should.”
    If not the cider, definitely something.
    “Please, I’m sure you have the best intentions, Aunt Sybb, but this isn’t—he isn’t someone like that. Let it be, please. I’m—for Poppa’s sake, I’m willing to marry anyone who’ll help him in the mill. You know that. I’m sure Jenn feels the same way.”
    She most certainly did not. Jenn closed her mouth just in time.
    “Wherever did you get that idea?” Aunt Sybb sounded horrified. “Your father doesn’t want an apprentice. He—We want you happy, that’s all.”
    “Happy?”
    The word hurt, the way her sister said it.
    “Yes, happy. It’s not impossible, Peggs.” Her aunt spoke so softly, Jenn had to strain to hear. “Trust me. It only seems that way because you’re young.”
    “It’s that way because I’m young! Don’t you understand?”
    Jenn shrank from the anguish in Peggs’ voice. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want to listen. But her feet wouldn’t move.
    “Ah.” With calm certainty. “The talented beekeeper has your heart.”
    “How—? Don’t say anything, Aunt Sybb. To anyone. I beg you.”
    Kydd Uhthoff? The plate almost slipped through Jenn’s fingers. What was Peggs thinking? Yes, the younger brother was handsome, in a distant, scholarly way, and kind, she supposed, having noticed Peggs’ talent and given her all those private drawing lessons, but he was—how old was he?
    Old enough to be her father, Jenn thought, that’s how old.
    “No, dear, no. Trust me. This is a delicate matter. Not impossible, whatever you think. You’re mature for your years. He’s a man who missed much of his youth. I applaud your taste. I do. Dry your eyes and mind your posture. You’re a Nalynn. We fight for what matters to us—”
    “Is the pie ready, Jenn?”
    Jenn jumped and everything flew into the air. Wedges of pie hit the floor, the plate smashed on the oven bricks, and the forks followed the plate, their tinkle and fall like rain after thunder.
    She lunged for the sketchpad and managed to grab it, then looked up.
    Wainn blinked down at her.
    Aunt Sybb stood beside her sister and shook her head.
    While Peggs had never looked so furious in her life.

    “More tea, young