The slamming of my bedroom door brought Miss Young scurrying to my side. I stood in the midst of the room, my shoulders heaving. My heart beat wildly. Every encounter with Charlotte Plumb brought me closer to the breaking point. Her crude laughter jarred me, and her loud voice sent shivers down my spine.

When Joel brought that woman into our family, he brought shame to the Everstow name. Surely he knew better than to attach himself to someone so low and uncouth. I clenched my fists and pounded them into my thighs.

"Whatever is the matter, Priscilla?" Claudia Young asked, approaching me from behind. Her gentle hands massaged my trembling shoulders.

"Oh, 'tis nothing really," I responded, swiping at my moist cheeks. "It's just..." Turning swiftly, I wrapped the governess in my arms and burst into tears.

"There, there," my teacher gently soothed. She led me to the bed and made me sit down. Perching beside me, she drew me close to her side. "Tell me exactly what happened."

I drew in my breath to suppress my sobs. Dear Miss Young. She arrived in my life when I turned six years old. For ten years, she instructed me, and we became close friends. I knew I could rely on her and speak with confidence.

"When I went to read to Mama tonight, that woman was already with her," I finally began. "She treated me like a child and made me feel unimportant."

"I'm sure she didn't mean to," Miss Young stated, clasping my hand and squeezing it. "Perhaps she had a few things to discuss with your mother. The wedding, perhaps?"

"Yes, the wedding," I agreed, sighing. "Do you think Joel actually means to follow through with it? I mean...well...Miss Charlotte is horrid. She will become an Everstow, and she doesn't fit in here, exactly."

"Perhaps she will learn," my governess flatly suggested. "You'll have to give her time. She's still new here. It will take a bit for her to catch on."

"If she ever catches on..." I let my voice trail away. Did people like Charlotte Plumb ever catch on, or did they expect everyone to stoop to their level?

"Time will tell, Priscilla," Claudia Young stated, rising. "Get a good night's sleep; perhaps things will look better in the morning." She bent to kiss my cheek gently, then bade me goodnight.

"Goodnight, Miss Young," I called back, sinking into my pillow. When the door closed, I turned around and stared into my canopy. My mind flashed on a picture of Joel's naked body hovering above Charlotte Plumb in the garden summerhouse. I cringed and wondered at my elder brother's actions.

I felt much closer to Grayson than I did to Joel. My older sibling remained distant from us, although we shared the same schoolroom. Papa raised him to become the next Lord Everstow, giving him more privileges than his younger children. Naturally, Joel became the most important figure in our lives. The family held him to a much higher standard.

Tall and lean, Joel resembled Papa. He kept his brown hair trimmed short and combed it neatly to the side. His blue eyes turned into limpid pools when he read poetry aloud, but they could also become cold and distant when challenged. When we rode together, Joel edged his horse close to Mr. Blanchard and spoke to him about attending Oxford University. Gray and I kept behind them while Miss Young brought up the rear.

I could not recall participating in a real conversation with my older brother. While I grew closer to Grayson, Joel drifted further away. When he left for University, I barely missed him. Gray and I continued our lives as though nothing untoward had happened.

Joel's return did not draw him closer to me. I felt his shame even though he chose to ignore it. I wondered if Papa felt disappointed. His high expectations for his oldest son seemed to diminish significantly.

With so many things on my mind, I slept fitfully. I tossed and turned amongst my blankets, throwing them off occasionally and then burrowing beneath them again. The night seemed endless. As the hours ticked by, I hoped Grayson would come in to cuddle with me. Nevertheless, my middle brother failed to appear.

The following morning, I appeared at breakfast later than usual. Papa sat behind his newspaper, using it as a shield. Charlotte ate again as though ravishingly hungry. I cringed when Joel fed her scrambled eggs from his plate. I wondered about his sudden ill manners. Miss Young taught us social etiquette, most notably.

I nibbled on a piece of toast and pushed my kidneys about my plate. My stomach seemed too unsettled for food.

"Good morning, Happy Family," Grayson proclaimed, trotting into the dining chamber. He stopped grinning when he noticed the dour faces at the table. Filling his plate from the sideboard, he sat in his usual place beside me.

Charlotte shot him a disdainful look, then prodded Joel. Rising, she tapped his shoulder, urging him to depart with her. My older brother rose obediently, and they strode toward the door together.

"Just one moment," Papa called, rising also. "I would like a word with you, Miss Plumb, in the library."

At Papa's request, Miss Charlotte halted. Her back straightened, and a hard look appeared on her face. However, when she turned toward my father, her smile brightened considerably, but her eyes remained dead.

"As you please," she responded sweetly.

Leading the way, Papa walked sedately from the dining room. Joel and Charlotte followed closely in his wake. Left alone, Grayson and I exchanged a glance. Gray raised his eyebrows questioningly; I shrugged. After a moment, we rose and strode purposefully toward the library door.

Even from a distance, we could hear loud voices emanating from the library. Miss Plumb's high-pitched tones penetrated the closed door. Papa responded vehemently. We knew the argument had escalated, although we could not precisely distinguish the words. Gray and I exchanged a glance and leaned in closer. As we did, the door burst open, startling us.

Miss Plumb emerged, her face scarlet beneath her banana-colored hair. Angrily, she pushed past Grayson and me. The sour expression on her face startled us. Together, we backed away from her rage.

"Won't you reconsider?" Joel questioned, appearing in the doorway. He held his hands out pleadingly. "Papa?"

"You heard me, Joel," Papa responded. I peered in quickly and saw my father sitting behind his mahogany desk. His expression appeared stricken.

"But, Papa, Charlotte is with child," my elder brother pleaded. "You always taught me to do the right thing under the circumstances."

"You should have thought of doing the right thing under the circumstances in the first place," our father remarked gruffly. His sharp eyes penetrated my brother, causing him to step backward swiftly.

"I have a word or two to say, Lord High and Mighty," Charlotte exclaimed, marching into the room. She slammed both hands onto the desk and pressed her face close to Papa's. "You won't buy me off, regardless of how much money you throw in my direction. I am here to stay. Your son impregnated me, and he promised to marry me. That's exactly my intention, whether you like it or not. You're stuck with me."

Pivoting abruptly, Miss Plumb stomped from the library. Grasping Joel's hand, she pulled him along with her. My brother trotted along behind her hasty footsteps. Together, they mounted the stairs and continued toward Joel's bed chamber. Overcome by curiosity, Gray and I followed.

"Buy me off, will he?" Charlotte screamed, raising an antique porcelain vase. She hurled it toward the open door, where it shattered against the frame.

Grayson and I dodged to either side of the open doorway. Leaning forward, we peered inside. Joel, his skin as pale as ash, sat in an armchair, his face buried in his hands. Charlotte stood above him with her hands firmly at her hips. Her complexion had changed from scarlet to a deep purple. The veins in her temples stood out and throbbed uncontrollably.

"You promised me marriage, Joel Everstow," she shrieked as she loomed above him. "You'll keep that promise, or I'll shame you to the ends of the earth. Your father won't buy me off, and you'll make that clear to him. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my pet," Joel whimpered, grasping her hand. He knelt before her and buried his head into her thick skirt. "I will fulfill all my promises. I love you, love you, love you. Never leave me, Lottie. Please never leave me."

Gray and I exchanged perplexing glances. Seeing my older brother groveling to that uncouth woman sent shivers down my spine. Joel became putty beneath her grasping fingers. Beside me, Grayson choked on his sobs; I grabbed his hand quickly and drew away.

"Poor Joel," my middle brother cried when we reached the garden.

I drew a long, cleansing breath and plunked down the summerhouse steps. Yes, poor Joel. Charlotte Plumb owned him, lock, stock, and barrel. Her tentacles reached into his heart, suffocating him.

"I wish she'd never come here," I pouted. "She should have taken Papa's offer and left. It would make us all happy."

"Yes," Grayson concurred, sadness filling his voice.

Together, we sat on the summerhouse steps. The sun stood high in the sky, yet we did not move. Neither of us felt hungry enough for lunch. In the distance, Joel and Charlotte appeared. They walked sedately around the garden and kept their heads close to each other. Both acted as though nothing untoward had happened. 

Questions:

Was Papa right to try to buy off Charlotte Plumb?

Was Charlotte right when she got mad about Papa trying to buy her off?

Is Priscilla jealous of Charlotte or is Charlotte jealous of Priscilla?

How involved is Grayson in the situation?