You Know I Love You So

Chapter 1: Perfectly Nonsensical

"Are you intending on having breakfast this morning, Ms. Worthing?"

"No, not this morning, Allie."

"Oh. Is ma'am feeling poorly?"

"Not in the least, I should hope."

"Shall leave a few buttered rolls aside for you, ma'am?"

"I do appreciate it, Allie, but I'm simply not hungry."

"As you wish, ma'am."

The maid curtsied and left promptly. Jane sniffled quietly as she wandered through the corridors of Worthing Manor, hugging her book against her chest. Her big doll eyes, often considered too big for her head, followed her feet as she pattered along the hardwood flooring.

Suddenly, there came a call from down the corridor.

"Jane!"

Lifting her head up dazedly and snuffling a little louder, Jane reluctantly picked up her pace as she made her way down into the dining room. She appeared in the doorway and smiled lazily at her family perched at the table. "Yes, Mumma?"

Her mother watched her keenly, "You're late for breakfast, darling."

"I'm going outside," she explained.

Her mother frowned, "Goodness. Why?"

"To read."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Mumma, I'm going to read."

"And where do you intend to read?"

"I've already told you. Outside."

Mrs. Worthing withdrew a breath and picked her cup off of it's saucer, "You must be feeling ill, darling."

"Heavens no, Mumma," Jane frowned defensively, "What in god's name prompted you to conclude that?"

"You intend to go outside," he mother drawled, "to read."

"I'm well aware," Jane remarked, slightly snappy.

Her mother placed the cup down delicately, "The sky is overcast."

"Of that too I am quite certain of," Jane said, folding her skinny arms.

Her mother sighed heavily, "I assumed that you're feeling ill, Jane, as you are about to go frolicking about to read a silly book in the rain!"

"This book is most certainly not silly, Mumma!" Jane glowered, hugging it tight.

Her mother ignored her, "That would be considered awfully nonsensical, would it not, Mr. Worthing?"

From across the table, Jane's father folded the top half of his paper down to peer over at his daughter. He glanced at them both over the rim of his half-moon glasses. "I should think so, Jane. Listen to your Mother. After all, she does knows everything. Or likes to believe she does."

Jane's sister, Helene, snorted with laughter over the rim of her teacup.

Their mother nodded, "You see, Jane? Perfectly nonsensical. Now sit."

Jane sat.

"I suggest you eat something soon, child, for Lady Dalton is calling over this afternoon. I do not want you to be too ravenous once he arrives."

Jane grimaced, "Lady Dalton? Again?"

"Yes," her mother began buttering bread, "She will be dining with us for luncheon, I believe."

"But Lady Dalton dined with us last week."

"Do not start your sentences with a 'but', Jane, you don't want to be considered common, do you? I should think not."

"Mumma," Jane ignored her, "Lady Dalton dined with us last week."

"I am well aware," her mother sighed, "It is considered mannerly to dine with one's relatives on a weekly basis, child. She also has some important news for you. Oh, Jane, why must you look at me like I am a villian? Please, do not be as tiresome, and....and eat something."

Helene giggled.

Jane, wavering and unsure in her seat, plucked a short roll of bread from the center of the table and clutched a cold, silver knife in her other hand. She began buttering.

"I believe Lucas will be returning home tomorrow eve, Jane," Mr. Worthing murmured from behind his newspaper, "A letter was addressed to us this morning."

At the sound of her brother's name, Jane's head snapped up in delight, "A letter?"

"Indeed. It arrived this morning just before eight."

Their mother chimed in, "That dreadful boy has no compassion for me. Sending letters declaring that he shall be visiting home, leaving us with only a mere today to prepare for him. Good heavens, I'll be forever in a fluster.

"Mumma," Jane grinned, "It is only Lucas. Papa, where is the letter? I'd dearly love to read it!"

Helene chirped, "Will Theodora be visiting aswell, Papa?"

Mr. Worthing folded his paper and laid it on the table, gawking over the rims of his half-moon glasses. "The letter is in my study, Jane. And Helene, Theodora will not be visiting - her mother has glandular fever and needs to be tended to."

Helene, dejected, slumped back down in her seat, "Pity. Teddy always brings such splendid gifts for Jane and I. Doesn't she, Mumma?"

Mrs. Worthing nodded, her cheeks a rosy apple-red, "Oh, yes. On her last visit, she bought these wonderful ribbons for the girls. Oh, they were splendid."

"Lots and lots of ribbons!" Helene sang in delight, "Those ribbons were delightful, weren't they, Jane?"

"Indeed," Jane murmured. She stood up. "Excuse me a moment. Papa, may I read Lucas' letter?"

"Of course, my dear," her father said, while Helene and Mrs. Worthing began singing about ribbons. He murmured quietly, "Oh, and Jane? You may read that book of yours, outisde if you wish. But I warn you; pace quickly before your mother'll make something of it."

"Thank-you, Papa!" Jane grinned, and kissed the top of his wispy-white hair. He chuckled to himself.

Jane pattered swiftly out of the room and around the corner, where she almost tripped over one of the maids, "Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, Allie!"

In a delighted fluster, Jane lifted the hem of her dress and climbed the stair, before bursting into her father's study and seizing the letter on his mahogany table. Breathing heavily from her rapid ascent, Jane traced the side of her thumb over the handwriting of her eldest brother.