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Chapter Five

At half past six, Jackson was summoned to dinner. Reluctantly he left his dozing sister under the care of a servant to oblige the invitation. When he reached the table, many questions were sent his way on Emma's well-being and when his answer was not favorable, many remarks came from Mr. Liely's cousins on how grieved they were by her illness. But soon, they commented no more of the matter and were indifferent towards their dear friend which only solidified Mr. Overland's original dislike.

Mr. Liely, in fact, was the only one he was able to endure during the meal. His anxiety for his sister was evident, and his attentions to her well-being pleased Jackson. It was only through his good grace that he did not feel as an intruder for he was recognized by none but him at the table. Ms. Vickson was caught up in prattling away in Mr. Haddock's ear, and her sister sat at mute attention. Mr. Snoutley was a man too preoccupied with food, cards and his own personage to carry a worthy conversation for any length of time.

When the meal was over, he was reluctantly pulled into the drawing-room. The others soon sat around the card table and invited him to join. He declined with the excuse of only staying a short while before returning to his sister; a book would satisfy that purpose quite well.

"You prefer reading to cards?" Mrs. Snoutley exclaimed.

"Mr. Overland," her sister explained, "despises cards. He is a great reader and finds no pleasure in anything else, much like his father."

"I don't deserve such criticism nor praise," Jackson retorted, the hair on his hackles raising. "I am not a great reader, and I find pleasure in more things than you are acquainted with. As for the cards, I fear I would shame you if I played. You are not used to a clever opponent and severe losses."

"Perhaps, then, you would care to grace us with your skills?" Mr. Haddock inquired, his lips twitching upwards.

"You heard the fellow," his friend exclaimed as he pulled his intent gaze from his cards, "he will be with us only a short while. Leave him to his book if it gives him pleasure!"

Jackson smiled gratefully at the man as he approached the table to where a few books lay and gingerly began picking through them. The back of his neck prickled and his eyes darted over to meet the green ones that observed each movement he made. His lips pressed into a firm line just as Mr. Liely looked over at him.

"I apologize for the small collection. I do wish it larger for your benefit and my credit, but I am not one to sit idle and read for any length on time. I own more than I—though I am ashamed to admit it—have ever looked into."

The young man smiled kindly and shook his head. "This is a reasonable selection. No need to be ashamed."

"I am quite astonished," said Ms. Vickson, "that your father left so small a collection. However, Mr. Haddock, you have such a delightful library!"

"It ought to be good," he replied with a slight roll of his eyes. "Many generations have worked at it."

"And you have added so much to it, you are always buying books."

"Learning is pivotal. I cannot understand the neglect of a family library."

"I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauty of that noble place. Thomas, when you build your house, I wish it to be half as delightful as Berk."

"I wish it may as well."

The conversation between the occupants of the card table struck a chord of curiosity in Jackson, and he could not help but listen in. His fingers gentle grazed over the spines of the books, opening an occasional one to glance over the printing without truly reading it. Mary had been right to accuse him of eavesdropping, but it was true that he at least knew how to do it. He could never resist the temptation; the thrill was too fun to pass. Suppressing a smirk over the fact that the party present barely even noted him when he was speaking and attempting to be noted, he finally grabbed a book and took a seat. He held the book up to his eyes and opened his ears.

"Has Ms. Haddock grown since spring?" asked Ms. Vickson as she leaned over to Mr. Haddock. "Will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. Her head would perhaps reach Mr. Overland's shoulder," he answered simply.

Jackson's fingers tightened at the mention of his name.

"Mr. Overland, could you stand for a moment?" he heard.

He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to groan. Perhaps this would be harder than he thought. He closed the book and stood, arching his eyebrows as Abigail looked over him. She gave him a curt nod and turned away, telling him he was dismissed. Mr. Haddock's eyes however were slower to leave him and only finally pulled away when the woman at his elbow exclaimed, "How I long to see her again!"

The young man sat back down more than ready to leave. This company presented no source of amusement, but his curiosity had to be satiated. So, he stayed.

"I have never met anyone who was such a pleasure to know," the blonde continued cheerily. "Such composure, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her portraits are quite exquisite. You should be proud, Mr. Haddock."

"I am."

"It amazes me," his friend said as he shuffled through the cards in his hands, "how young ladies have the patience to be so accomplished as they all are."

"All ladies accomplished! Dear Thomas, what do you mean?"

"Yes, all of them, I think," he defended himself. They all can paint, play the piano and sew. I do not know any one who cannot do this. I have never met a lady without being told of how accomplished she was."

"Though I can agree on such a general assumption, the word is applied to many women who do not deserve such praise. I have only met a handful of women I would consider to truly accomplished."

"I agree," Ms. Vickson said.

Jackson could not hold his tongue any longer. His heart pounded in his ears as his mind resolutely decided that it was his sisters that they were referring to, and if it was not them it was easily the young women of the city. He could not sit idly by and allow them to degrade them so. "Then you must expect a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman?" he asked bitterly.

"Yes, I do," he answered simply.

"Certainly," his faithful assistant jumped in, "no one can be truly accomplished if they do not surpass what is met by others. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. And, in addition," she continued smugly, "she must possess a certain air, a manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions. Otherwise, I fear it is only half deserved."

"All this she should possess," added Haddock, "in addition to the improvement of her mind by reading and a passion for life and family."

"I'm not surprised that you have only met a few accomplished women," retorted Jackson. "I am surprised you have managed to make the acquaintance of any if they must live up to such conditions. You are quite harsh on the sex, Mr. Haddock."

He arched an eyebrow at the unexpected retorted. He crossed his legs and leaned back into his chair, his cards lying abandoned on the table as he studied the young ma across the room from him.

"In addition to finding such a list of demanded characteristics incredibly harsh, I do also find it a bit lacking. Would you not consider a sense of humor to be a defining characteristic in an accomplished woman? Surely, a woman must be able to find joy and amusement."

"I find a sense of humor in anyone to be nothing more than tiresome and irksome at best."

"Well, it is no wonder you are still single then," Jackson rebutted. "For all the women I have met worthy of marriage had a sense of humor."

"Which begs the question of why you have yet to marry," interrupted Ms. Vickson.

The young Mr. Overland clamped his mouth shut and quickly dismissed himself from the room. Such personal matters were not in need to be discussed by such a congregation.

Emma had fallen asleep and Jackson was bored out of his mind. His eyes glanced at the clock across the room. It had been nearly three hours since he sent word to his mother. He knew he shouldn't be surprised that she was waiting to come in hopes of her daughter and Liely growing closer, but it still angered him that his mother was so desperate to marry her daughters off.

But, she should at least have sent a kinder letter than one stating simply that her daughter was to remain as long as possible. It wouldn't have hurt her to come and see how she was fairing, to ensure that her daughter was well looked after. Well, he wouldn't leave until Emma was able to do so.

Sighing, he stood and smoothed out his shirt and straightened his waistcoat. He was loathed to mingle with the others of the house, but it would be best to give his sister time to enjoy her rest. Without further thought, he silently left the room.

As he stepped into the drawing-room he found Mr. Liely and Mr. Snoutley were at the card table while the latter's wife sat and watched with bored eyes. Her sister sat on the chaise, her bright eyes observing the frame of Mr. Haddock bent over the desk as he scrawled away.

Jackson paused as he gazed at the man. Left-handed. Curious, he pondered as he sat in an available chair and picked up a book from nearby. Focusing of what was written however, proved to be a difficult task as Ms. Vickson insisted on commenting frequently on Mr. Haddock's handwriting, the evenness of his lines or the length of the letter without concern for the annoyance that began to stiffen the shoulders of the man's frame as his grip on his pen tightened.

Curious as always, the young Mr. Overland's warm eyes consistently flickered to the two figures every few minutes, mirth pooling in their depths as he wondered how the man would appear when he lost his composure.

"How delighted Ms. Haddock will be to receive such a letter!" the blonde exclaimed.

Her remark was met by a silent roll of the eyes, and Jackson had to bite back a smirk.

"You write uncommonly fast," she tried again.

"I write as quickly as a horse that has lost a shoe," he replied quickly, and the young man's struggle to not smile became harder.

Ms. Vickson appeared flustered as her mouth gaped for a few minutes before she quickly recovered. "How many letters you must have to write in the course of a year! How dull and tedious I would find such a task."

"You should be congratulating yourself then that they have fallen into my duty and not yours."

"Please tell your sister that I miss her," she attempted.

He rested his pen on the desk and turned to face her. "If she reads such a sentiment again from you, I fear she will grow bored of my letter. It is beginning to appear that you spoke and I dictated," he said before returning to his writing.

The young brunet rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide the smile that was pulling at his lips. This was proving quite enjoyable. He had never imagined such a prideful man capable of such sarcasm.

Ms. Vickson stood, a pleasant smile straining across her lips as she approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder as she peered over to observe his writing. "How are you able to write so evenly?" she asked yet again.

He elected to not answer.

"Tell your sister that I am delight to hear of her improvement with the—what was the instrument you gave her called again?"

"A guitar."

"Yes! Tell her I am happy to hear that she has taken to it so well."

"I have no room to do justice to such momentous congratulations. Perhaps, you would care to write a letter to her yourself?"

"It's of no consequence," she mumbled, waving a hand dismissively. "I will see her in January. Do you always write such charming, long letters to her, Mr. Haddock?"

"They are generally this length, but as to charming—I'm afraid I'm not the one to answer that."

"It is a rule with me that a person able to write long letters with ease cannot write ill."

"Well, then," Jackson decided to enter the conversation at last, he was enjoying the show but her voice was grating on his nerves, "maybe you should best leave him to write. I am sure that if you drone on in his ear long enough we will write ill and then where would your conjecture find footing?"

He then proceeded to excuse himself to see how is sister was fairing. He left in such a flurry so as to hide the laughter bubbling up in him that he was unaware of the lopsided grin that was creeping across the face of the man at the desk.

Ms. Vickson was beginning to feel Mr. Haddock's attention slowly slipping from her to the young man who was staying with them under the guise of caring for his sister. The reason, however, was lost on her. He had no connections and his manners were hardly refined. Besides, he was too cheeky for her liking and always seemed to be laughing at her, as if enjoying a show that he occasionally acted in from the sidelines. Her cousin was a better fit for a friend and companion for Mr. Haddock, and she would be sure he knew that.

The next day they were walking together through the gardens his green eyes fixed in the distance as he guided her. Her hand was nestled tightly in the crook of his arm as she studied his firm features. A flutter of feathers overhead startled her and she watched as a flock of doves flew amongst the branches above them. Her eyes turned back to the man alongside her to see his eyes study the animals wistfully.

She cleared her throat and once his attention settled on her she said, "I hope you plan to make frequent visits. His family will surly wish to know you. And, of course, you must allow them to visit Berk; you must not appear closed off to your friend's family. Of course, too much and it might appear to be charity; you'll soon find Berk flooded with the population of Cheapside.—And, if I may digress for the moment, you might wish to check the mouth and…free nature of the man you wish to befriend."

"Have you anything else you wish to advise me on?"

"Yes," she began but was interrupted by her sister calling to her. She looked over her shoulder to spy her sister on the arm of Mr. Overland heading up the path towards them

"I did not know you intended to walk today," she said, fearing she had been overheard.

"You were quite rude," Mrs. Snoutley complained as she grew closer. "Running off without informing me. Liely's disappeared and Mr. Snoutley is contently dozing. I had to request the services of this young man to escort me here."

The woman huffed as she let go of the young man's arm and latched onto Mr. Haddock's free one, leaving her escort to stand in the path by himself.

The copper haired gentleman sensed their rudeness and said to no one in particular, "Perhaps we should move to the avenue. I'm afraid this path is too narrow for our party."

Jackson simply laughed as he began stepping backwards away from the group. "No, stay just as you are. You paint such a beautiful picture; I'd hate to ruin it. I will be fine on my own."

Without another word, he sprang down the path with childlike enthusiasm as Mr. Haddock was pulled in the opposite direction.

"You should choose your friends carefully," Ms. Vickson warned. "A young man has no right to act as such. I'm sure he is a child in mind as well as action. You would grow weary of him very soon."

The gentleman only huffed slightly as he continued down the path, stuck between the idle gossip of the sisters on his arms.