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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥
•••
TO SAY AMELIA HASTINGS WAS FUMING WOULD BE AN UNDERSTATEMENT. Sitting across the pristine oak table from her were her Mother and Father, both with condescending looks upon their faces. Amelia made no move to speak, the only effort to break the silence in the room being the occasional creak of the chairs they sat in, or the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the lounge. Stone-faced, the only key to how Amelia was really feeling being her sickly sweet smile, which would be dashing if not the circumstances. Though, her amusement did not show in her eyes. She was afraid, but she wouldn't tell them that.
When Inspector Lestrade captured the two girls, he lead them downstairs to a waiting carriage where Mycroft stood with an amused grin on his face. The pocket watch closed like a bullet out of a gun as he stood back-straight, confidence oozing from his very stance. For a second, Amelia pictured her Father standing there, glaring down at her instead if the power hungry older brother of her best friend. He stared Enola and Amelia down, his giddiness obviously coming from the depressed former. Amelia felt sick to her stomach as they were thrown into the carriage, scolded by Mycroft, and sentenced to silence for the rest of the ride.
The Hasting's girl dared not say anything, fearing trouble to come further than it already had.
The ache in her heart was inevitable, but it didn't stop her mind from wandering back to Tewksbury. She wondered about where he had went, and if the maiden had informed Lestrade about his strange affiliation with the two other runaways. She believed it wouldn't be the end of it. He would come for them— for her. Or at least she hoped.
Enola Holmes would be off to finishing school that night, and Amelia had yet to know her future. Mycroft was generous enough to drive her to her brother's home, where her entire family was waiting. She assumed either Mycroft told them of her supposed whereabouts, or they were on a vacation away in London, not a care for her.
"I believe you have some explaining to do, Amelia." The hoarse voice of her Father captured her attention. She turned to look at him, avoiding her Mother's unwavering stare. One look at her and game over. Amelia couldn't help the grimace that crossed her face or the anger boiling in the pit of her stomach at his voice. One thing was for sure. She didn't miss them. Not one bit.
"Enola required my assistance." Was her response. She chose not to go into the specifics of her call, but she was sure Mycroft had already briefed them on the situation. She wasn't sure how much the wannabe detective had offered, or even discovered himself.
"So you left home without warning, or permission with no information on where you were going, or how long you would be gone," her Mother said, sounding confused and mostly hurt. Amelia almost scoffed, her eyebrows furrowing. Last time her Mother cared was when company was coming over, or she would give her offerings and advice on becoming a bride. They never cared about her absence before. But she couldn't help the ounce of guilt stirring within her. It willed her to beg for forgiveness, but she stayed put. The worst thing they could do wasn't even a bother to her.
"Weeks before your courting." Her Father continued where his wife left off. Now she understood. They did not care for her, more like cared for her future husband and potential courting. They were merely tying up loose ends, starting with their unwed daughter.
After a long few seconds of her silence, the man slammed his hand on the table, standing up to tower over Amelia. The crack was deafening in the still of the room. She flinched and leaned back in contrast, feeling the tears building in her eyes. Her emotions were going on a rampage, her thoughts a swirl.
"Amelia you look at me right now!" He screamed, and with a shaky breath, she returned his eye contact steadily, peering into his soul for answers. Her Mother stood, not seeming affected by the clown show of domination coming from him. She placed a careful hand on his arm, as if not to anger him more. Amelia's eyes flickered inconspicuously towards the lady before her anger got the better of her.
"It's not like you cared anyway Father! You just want to send me away to be married to Marcus!"
"Maybe so, but that is my decision for you as your Father, and you will follow my orders!" He yelled back, making Amelia break. The tears broke the floodgates and rushed down her face before she could stop them. With a harsh wipe to her cheeks, she faced them again with a scary glint in her eyes.
"It shouldn't be."
"Enough. Amelia, or you will attend finishing school for another quarter. The Mason's have been notified of your arrival." Her Mother rolled her eyes, standing with a nod to her husband. She brushed past Amelia and out the door, shortly followed by her husband.
The girl sat there for a minute before letting out choked sobs.
•••
KNOCK KNOCK.
Amelia ignored the presence at her doorway, leaning against the bed stand with her knees to her chest. But they stepped into the room anyways. She had no choice but to look up at who was in her room, and her eyes widened at the sight of her house maid: Abigail McCarthy. A dubious smile came on her face, faltering slightly at the older woman's concern. Even in the worst of times, she always came to Amelia's side.
"Miss, what is the matter?" Amelia asked in a soft tone for the first time that night. Abigail came to sit down beside the girl, the basket of laundry in her hands tightened in her grip.
"You scared me there, Amelia. I thought you had got killed, or something bad happened," the older women admitted, making the guilt Amelia had spent hours pushing away come forward. She sucked in a breath, her eyes diverting to the floor. She didn't even stop to think about how Abigail would feel with the whole situation.
"Oh Abbie, I'm so sorry- I wasn't thinking. It's just Enola is such a good friend and would always have my back if I needed her—" she started, only to get cut off by the maid as she sat down on the bed, her basket by her feet.
"Dear, it's okay." The words were such a relief to Amelia's system that she let out a long sigh, collapsing into her Mother-figure's side. Abigail was quick to wrap her arms around the teenager, running a calming hand through her hair.
"Now, tell me what had you out for so long."
•••
morgan is typing . . .
wasn't what i was originally planning for this book, but i wanted to add a little bit of character to amelia and what better way than with a new boy >:3
