“Something was bothering you.” Henry started conversationally, one fingertip brushing a wet strand, tucking it behind her ear. He could sense her body stiffened under his touch. Her hand clutched the scissors’ handles painfully, her eyes slightly widened in bewilderment. Turning around, she tried glaring at him, but finally, her expression softened as she slid off her gloves and slung them on the brim of her pail. She could never be angry for too long with Henry even if the world came to an end.

Rising slowly to her feet, she wiped her damp face with the back of her hand. Her eyes never left his, as she waited for him to say something. She sighed and resigned as it occurred to her that he would rather wait for her response.

“Don’t be overly familiar with me, Henry.” Instead, she chided, “We are not children anymore. I’m eighteen already.” Her eyes were wary as they follow his every movement, which she quickly lowered. She attempted to chase away her mixed bag of emotions by pretending to smooth the wrinkles of her wet skirt. And then she quietly added, “You too, are no longer a boy, but I don’t think it’s enough to understand my dilemma.”

A lifted eyebrow, and a dry, “Why, try me.”

Waving a hand in plain dismissal, Emmaline gave away a noncommittal sigh. He wasn’t even offended. How dense can a person be? Turning away to leave him, she glanced at her watch, shivering slightly as she did so, “I think I will go and have a nice hot bath.”

Henry’s hand shot through the air and grabbed her arm in a dead grip, forcing a startled gasp out of her little mouth. Glaring balefully at Henry, she ignored the glint in Henry cobalt blue eyes that told her to tell him everything, or else…

Stifling the urge to sigh her frustration, Emmaline eyed him indignantly. She finally resigned, silently admitted a determined Henry would never stop. She tugged slightly at Henry’s hand, but he refused to release her arm in fear she would avoid him and refused to answer his question.

Rolling her eyes at his display of stubbornness, Emmaline informed him cynically, “I’m not going anywhere, Sir. So if you’ll be so kind to release my poor arm…your grip is crushing it.”

“Men,” she grumbled, wiping a wet strand out of her face.

Much to her surprise, Henry grinned apologetically and loosened his hold on her. She stepped back as soon as he released her, but nonetheless kept her promise.

Rubbing her sore arm, she glared at him, but resolved to tell him something, anything. Perhaps part of the whole story. She suspected Henry hadn’t known this piece of information yet, even from his parents, despite having arrived a few days earlier than her. Never mind that. It had happened at the end of the school term anyway, just before her graduation from Miss Marshfield’s Ladies Academy. “Raoul has proposed a marriage to me,” There was a short pause before she hastily added, “And he is serious.”

He had a dumbfounded look at the news. Then he seemed to recover immediately and asked, “Is that why you were in such a rotten mood? Because of my brother?”

Again silence filled the air.

Emmaline glared at Henry accusingly, which made him even more confused. So his eldest brother liked Emmaline enough to marry her. Oh, but then again, why wouldn’t he? She was a beautiful young lady with an independent means of her own, and she was intelligent. She used to out-debate any of them boys in the past.

Henry’s mind reeled. Then he realised something. This piece of information had changed a lot of things about their sibling-like relationship. Him, his brothers and Emmaline.

Emmaline didn’t remove her gaze off Henry at all. It was interesting to see the myriads of emotions displayed on his face in such a short span. Henry might have been careless with words, but one could always enjoy his facial expressions. Was it annoyance she was witnessing in Henry’s face? It had to be her imagination. She knew she had never affect Henry in that way.

At any rate, she was a little sorry she told him. She was still annoyed with him, anyway. Let him find out from his brothers. It was a revenge for upsetting her in the first place.

“Is that really all?”

Emmaline crossed her arms in front of her, suddenly feeling cold. “I don’t know,” She told him, her voice cracking, “You tell me.”

Nodding, Henry frowned as he put his hand on her shoulder and felt it stiffening once again. Was she afraid of him? Was he too rough on her? There were millions of other questions he wished he could ask her, but in his foolishness, he asked the question he shouldn’t have even thought about instead.