An American Promise (Book 2)

Chapter 13

'I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.'

-Charlotte Bronte

Emilia, still a young girl, only fourteen  was with her mother again.  They were in the drawing room, playing the old pianoforte together.  Her mother was noticeably happier than she had been in a while. They finished the melody and Lady Turner kissed Emilia on the forehead, looking troubled

"Now Emilia my love, I must tell you something."

"Yes?" Emilia turned to her mother expectantly.

"I am sorry I haven't told you before now but," Lady Turner sighed, tucking a pale curl behind her daughter's ear.

"What is it? Please tell me."

"Samuel was in an accident earlier today and," tears welled up in her eyes. Emilia gripped her mother's hands tightly.

"What? Is, is he all right?"

"No."

    Emilia awoke with a small cry, sitting up in the small bed, sweating. Ever since she was fourteen she'd had different versions of the same dream, each time her mother telling her something more horrifying than the last time. When she was fourteen her mother had told her about her illegitimacy and, though it had been a shock, Emilia had not been overly affected by it. She understood of course, that it would affect her marriage in the future, but she figured any baronet would leap at the chance to wed an Earl's daughter, illegitimate or not.

She slid out of bed, her toes curling instinctively as they touched the cold wood floor. The small clock read half past four and though it was so early Emilia had no desire to go back to sleep. She crept to the window, peering out at the dark sky, just beginning to lighten at the edges. The moon was on the horizon, fading out along with the few stars that were visible in the city.

It was times like these that Emilia wished she was back in the country where, on a clear night, you could see thousands of twinkling, winking stars. In Boston stars were rarely visible and Emilia pitied the city children who grew up in the smog filled city with hardly a glance at the night sky.

However she was determined to leave her past wishes and desires behind; she was starting a new life after all and did not wished to be hindered by ghosts.

  That morning at the shop Max came by to help and Emilia found herself appreciating the company and conversation. He was a good worker and helped her with measuring and cutting cloths or any basic tasks she needed assistance with.

"Have you heard back from Miss Lucille yet?" Emilia asked as they worked on cutting a long piece of fabric. He turned pink, focusing in on the salmon coloured cloth as he answered.

"Yes, but," he trailed off and Emilia smiled to herself.

"What's the matter? Was it not the response you hoped for?"

"Not, not exactly, but it doesn't matter."

"But I want to know. What did she say?"

"I think she has forgotten who I am."

"Oh, I am sorry," Emilia had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing; she felt bad for him but she couldn't help but find it rather amusing.

"You're laughing at me," he said, but not in an accusatory tone, it was more rueful than anything.

"No no, but perhaps you should try again. May I ask what you wrote in your letter?"

"I wrote a few, but basically I implied that I felt nothing but the deepest admiration for her," he trailed off as Emilia snorted.