“She does.” Emblyn came to him and put a hand on his arms. “Can ee not see, Harry? Yer wife is no’ any different from t’other ladies in this. Ee can wrap me up in as fine a blanket as ee like, but it don’t change wha’ I am. I’ll not take much offense off ‘er, knowin’ it’s only how she was raised. It’s her right to an opinion, no matter how ee like it.”

Harrison shook his head, swallowing hard and looking at his sister. “I don’t like it. I don’t like how she sees you. I don’t like how hard this is, how angry she is, how—”

“How much ee care?” Emblyn finished, folding her arms and giving him a look he knew all too well.

It was a look he had given all too often.

He scowled. “It’s only because she is my wife, and I wish she would behave with more decorum.”

“More reserve, ee mean.” Emblyn snorted loudly and sat in the chair nearest him. “She has all decorum one could ask, then speaks freely among kin. Don’t ee do the same, Harry?”

“Not that freely,” he pointed out taking his seat with a groan. “She’s always in high dudgeon, it seems.”

Emblyn shrugged a shoulder, her simple pink calico rustling against the back of the chair. “Why shouldn’t dudgeon be high? I’ve a strong will and temper, too, yet ee didn’t send me away when I lashed.”

“You’re my sister. She is my wife.”

“Ee chose her, Harry,” Emblyn reminded him firmly. “I read yer letters, and she weren’t a wiltin’ flower when ee met.”

That was undeniably true.

He slumped back in his chair, eyeing his sister suspiciously. “Why are you defending her? She can’t stand you.”

Emblyn barked a laugh that made him smile. “I’m not fond of her either, but she don’t know me as ee do. And besides, she was defendin’ you in the same breath she taunted me.”

Harrison jerked upright, frowning. “She did what? I didn’t hear that.”

“Ee weren’t listenin’.” His sister smiled and settled back in the chair without any of the graces a young lady of station would. “Ee heard her, for certain, but ee weren’t listenin’. She called me an ingrate. Not a mongrel. I may not be much educated, but I know the difference.”

His jaw went slack as he replayed her words. “She said—”

“And,” Emblyn went on, overriding whatever he’d been preparing to say, “she said ee were bestowing generosity, which I know well, and I be keepin’ ee at a distance. Ungrateful, she called me. Not anything worse.” She laughed softly. “Seems she be mad at me for your sake, Harry.”