An American Promise (Book 2)

Chapter 16

'The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.'

-Plutarch

"Lucky bugger," Muttered Max. "Pardon my language."

"Yes, yes, but Henry is probably there for her money. I saw him a few weeks ago," Emilia muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Do you know him?"
"He was courting me for a while. When he found that my father would give no dowry he left. I don't think he ever really loved me."

"I'm sorry, but perhaps he did fall in love with Miss Donal, it's not hard to do."
"Hmm," Emilia felt that Max was being a little dramatic about someone that didn't even know he existed, never mind return his affections.

But she remembered the kissing mishap with Fredrick and decided she was in no position to judge.

"I'm sorry, I know you really were smitten," Emilia smiled.

"Thank you for your help. Well, I suppose it was a lost cause but I can't help but feel miserable about it."

"Don't worry, I know exactly how you feel." She shook her head.

"Do you? Is there a certain gentleman who has caught your fancy?"
"No no, but I can imagine it," Emilia hastily tried to amend her slip of tongue but Max frowned.

"Really? I hope you feel you can confide in me," he said gently.

"Yes, thank you. I know you know you can confide in me."

"Friends then?"
"Yes, I think you've earned that right," Emilia grinned largely.

"Then perhaps, to celebrate our newly found friendship you'll accompany me to the theatre tomorrow?"

"You go to the theatre an awful lot."

"Professional interest. Would you be interested? It's a new play that Martha plays the lead in."

"I should love to, I'll ask Samuel to look after Jane."
"Wonderful, I'll be at the boarding house by 7."

"I'd love that, thank you."

"I have to dash now, see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, give your regards to your mother," she handed back the paper and he left, leaving Emilia with a rather foolish grin on her face.

Mrs. Emma Perkins entered the house, calling out for her husband. She received no reply so she went up to their bedroom where she took out the small brown box Alexander kept by his bedside and opened it. Inside, as she suspected were folded letters, all written on the same paper, in the same neat hand. She took one, her heart thudding loudly as she read the contents:

My darling Alex,

I haven't seen you for a week and I must confess I miss you more and more. Please may we meet on Sunday the 1st of August at the usual place?

All my love,

F.

Sunday August 1st was today.

Alexander had gone out, saying he had to pick something up at the office.

Emma put the letter back, returning the box to it's usual place, her fears confirmed.

She wasn't angry however, but frightened about what could happen to Alexander and 'F' if anyone else found out.

She loved her husband; he was a good, kind man and she wished no hard upon him. 'F' as well.