Christmas Belles by Carroll, Susan

positively alarming. But before either she or Lucy could press Agnes for the source of her information, they were interrupted by a knock on the bedchamber door. The maid, Polly, thrust her head inside long enough to announce, "If you please, young ladies, Miss Emma is wishful of having a word with you in the drawing room." When Polly ducked out, the three sisters exchanged uneasy glances. They were not usually so formal in their household. The last time they had all been thus summoned it was to find Emma, red-eyed, the letter from Captain Trent clasped in her hand as she steeled herself to inform them about Papa. "Now what's amiss?" Agnes slapped her book closed and sat up. But her sharp tone did a poor job of concealing her anxiety. "Do you think that anything has happened to Great Aunt Martha?" Agnes asked. "Oh, no, I am sure it is nothing terrible," Chloe said, although she was sure of no such thing. But she sought to reassure her younger sister, taking Agnes's cold hand within her own. For once, Agnes let her. The three of them crept downstairs to the drawing room, huddling upon the threshold to peer inside. Emma was perched primly in Papa's wing-back chair, her hands folded in her lap. She looked composed, not at all as though she had been weeping, but Emma was good at concealing such things. Since she had turned twenty-two, she had adopted a habit of tucking her soft brown hair beneath a lace cap. Emma only wore it loose, Chloe had noticed, on those days the Reverend Mr