Hindrances

Chapter 15

"And that, Mr Wynn, is my final offer."
He didn't hesitate a moment.
"Done. Thank you for your business, Miss Hemmings."
"It will certainly take a few shipments for you to get all of your supplies, but it should all be done within the next four months."
Even though it was just an estimate, I have realized that people want at least a general idea of what to expect, even if it is completely inaccurate.
"Steven, I am terribly sorry to cut this short-"

No you're not!

"-but Amy and I must return to England. We have not finished planning our wedding."
That was a pretty good lie, but I would never admit that out loud.
"Ah, yes. Young love, I remember those days. My wife passed about a year ago..."
Bennett patted his father's back sympathetically.
"My condolences," I offered.
Sniffling slightly, Mr Wynn squared his shoulders back and picked up his drooping head.
"Now, what am I doing? You shouldn't let me bring down the mood, this is a time to celebrate!" His enthusiasm was obviously faked, but no one would dare to point that out.
Before leaving, I said that I left in my engagement ring room. I had intentionally left it on a desk, which I used as an excuse to go looking for Jennifer. It wasn't difficult to find her, since she was already cleaning the room Mr Lancaster and I stayed in.
"Jennifer-"
"Miss, you shouldn't be speaking with me-"
She was clearly nervous about being caught.
"Shhh! We need to be quiet, and listen up. I don't have much time to speak."
"What is it?" She finally managed to relax.
"I'll be back."
"You'll... Be back?"
"Yes, back for you and any other person held here against their will. Bye now!"
I scurried away, not bothering to clarify.
There was only one thing I knew for certain: they will not stay on a plantation for the rest of their lives.
Right before I reached Mr Lancaster and Mr Wynn, I slipped on my engagement ring.
"Sorry about that, Damien, I took it off last night," I said bashfully. (Hey, I had to pretend that I was still madly in love with him.)
Mr Lancaster leaned down and kissed my cheek, drawing me next to him.
"Everything is fine darling, you have nothing to apologise for."
I've mentioned that Mr Lancaster could be the most perfect man. Too bad he was only acting. But seriously, I was legitimately charmed by him for a moment. The blush that appeared on my face, neck, and ears couldn't have been faked.
"Goodbye, Steven and Bennett," Mr Lancaster said pleasantly. I was surprised he called Bennett by his name, but Mr Lancaster always has a reason for his actions. Steven Wynn began to speak.
"We can escort you-"
"No. Not to be crude, but I would like some private time with my fiancee," Mr Lancaster said with a wink to me.
"Damien!" I scolded under my breath.
"Can you blame me? She is gorgeous," he said reverently while stroking my hair. Steven laughed.
"Young kids! Don't ever get old."
With some final parting words, Mr Lancaster and I headed out to our coach. I waited until we were inside before I continued my scolding.
"Mr Lancaster! How dare you speak like that to other people?"
I was extremely embarrassed about it... He hinted at way too much.
"How do I dare? I never dare, Miss Hemmings, I do. Therefore, the 'how' is irrelevant."
That hardly made sense to me, but Mr Lancaster must know what he was trying to say.
The coach lurched as it began pulling away. It was strange having a stranger drive us. I was used to Connor.
"What are you thinking?"
I examined Mr Lancaster's face, but I couldn't find a trace of insincerity in it.
Perhaps he was still acting...? He must be, since it almost seems like he could care.
"I miss Connor."
Mr Lancaster's posture went slightly more rigid.
"I am sure you do."

-

We drove straight up to Chicago. There were no stops, except for food, rest areas, and switching tired drivers. We "slept" in the coach through the night– which basically means I didn't sleep much at all– while the poor driver kept going along. I didn't think Mr Lancaster slept (or even attempted to) the entire time. However, when I said that to him, Mr Lancaster just told me to "stop being ridiculous, the longest [he] had gone without sleep was four days before [he] collapsed from exhaustion."
Even though I recommended just going up the Mississippi River in one of the new high tech steam boats, Mr Lancaster refused. He said that he couldn't trust the people we would be on the boat with. That wasn't surprising, since Mr Lancaster has always been rather selective of those he lets in his company. Therefore, a three day trip turned into an eight day trip.
Some of my initial thoughts about this city:
Chicago was big. Yes, as unoriginal as that is.
But Chicago was also tall.
I had heard rumors that Chicago would use its steel (imported from northwestern Indiana) and build more buildings...
But here's the catch: normally, cities expand horizontally. Need more stores? Go slightly out of perimeter of the city, and you have just expanded that city. However, Chicago wants to build vertically. Instead of building out, they will build up. People say that the buildings would be so tall that they could scrape the sky.
So yes, Chicago was taller than London, but it was no where near its potential.
Chicago was loud. When Mr Lancaster and I first walked in Chicago, there was construction going on everywhere. I asked some of the passersby about it, and they said that they were building a sewer system, which they have been working on for about four years now. That was a pretty new thing in London too. After so many cholera outbreaks, I guess you get sick of it (pun absolutely intended). But in London, streets were destroyed and there was a lot of digging. Here, they just decided to lift the city up. Literally. The Americans are lifting the city up by four to fourteen feet in some places. Not only was Chicago a breeding ground of illnesses, but since it was pretty much level to Lake Michigan, the streets became an impassable swampland. (I mean, that is what it was before it was settled by the French.)
But no matter what city you're in or what the sewer system is like, everyone can agree that no one wants to see shit in the streets.
The people also stood out to me. I liked their accents more than the Southerners'. It was more flat and certainly easier to understand.
Mr Lancaster and I found an inn close to the edge of the city long after dark. It was a little more quiet there.
Mr Lancaster was very short and curt with the innkeeper. I hope the man knew that Mr Lancaster was just tired after a long journey.
"Finally, some damned peace and quiet!" he grumbled under his breath when we reached our room.
"Why Chicago? Why not New York City, or anywhere else?"
Mr Lancaster started unpacking his things, barely heeding me.
"I like it more."
"But New York City is literally the banking center of the United States."
"Shhh. I know, and I do not care. I like Chicago more, and that is all."

Fine, fucker, I was just wondering.

We were probably both just tired. After being next to each other in such close quarters for eight straight days, we have started to grate on each other's nerves.
"Okay."
I wasn't going to argue. Instead, I walked out of the room. Mr Lancaster probably needed some alone time anyway. The innkeeper was still up front. Since it was late, he was the only one around.
The innkeeper looked like he could be in his 60s. He was tall and lean and he had a bald head with a huge white beard that reached down to his chest.
"Um... Excuse me sir?"
I sounded meek, since I felt anxious about disturbing him.
He looked up at me and smiled warmly.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
"I just, um... Wanted to apologise... The man I came in here with doesn't really understand manners."
"He's one of those rich blokes, I ain't surprised."
"He won't apologise to you, but I'm hoping that you understand that I will try to make up for it."
I hated doing this. Why couldn't Mr Lancaster just act like a decent human being once in a while?
"Ha! You sound more like a mother than a wife!"
"I'm neither! He's older than me, so I obviously can't be his mother, and I'll take pity on the woman who marries him! We're business partners, that's it. We just spent over a week in a coach, so he is a little tired and grumpy."

Stop trying to defend him. He's always grumpy.
He's also probably always tired, come to think of it.

"Amelia, what the hell are you doing?"
I turned around in surprise. How did I not hear him walking?
"Well, Mr Lancaster, I was talking to some more... Agreeable company."
Mr Lancaster's mouth was set in a hard line, probably out of frustration. I didn't miss the brief, confused look that crossed his face though.
"Goodbye, sir! I'll probably talk to you tomorrow!"
The innkeeper waved as Mr Lancaster grabbed my arm. Though it was a tight grip, I yanked it away from him.
"Don't fucking touch me," I whispered to him harshly.
"'Mr Lancaster?' Really? Are you trying to ruin our cover up?"
I smiled pleasantly at him.
"I'm not pretending to be your wife anymore. Take this back."
I slipped the ring off of my finger. I felt strangely naked without it, but I knew it was only because I've been wearing it for a while.
Mr Lancaster just looked at the golden band in my hand, not accepting it.
"Just... Hold on to it for now. You never know when we will need it next."
I scoffed, but I did comply. There was a pouch on the side of my dress that acted like a pocket, so I put it there. Mr Lancaster looked rather disgruntled as he sauntered back to our room. I trailed slightly behind since I didn't really want to deal with him.
"Miss Hemmings... Amy-"
"No, it's just Miss Hemmings."
Mr Lancaster closed the door behind us.
"Why are you acting like this? Why can you not just go along with me? Everything would be easier that way!"
I felt my jaw drop.

Why I'm acting like this?

"I've been unconsciously mirroring your own behaviors, sir."

That's the poliet way of saying "fuck you, you're the problem, not me."

Too many times, I've let Mr Lancaster win an argument just because I didn't feel like arguing.
But right now, I can go all night.
"'My behaviors,' you say?"
"Minus the general subtle abuse, but yes."
Oh God, that glare he made. I'm surprised I wasn't killed.
"Abuse? Wha– actually, never mind. Whatever you are angry about, it happened for a reason.."
He trailed off as I started taking my clothes off. I was tired and I wanted sleep.
"...and... You probably did something... To warrant it..."
Mr Lancaster was speaking in a soft but clear mumble. He was obviously distracted by something. On the other hand, I was only getting ready for bed.
"Nothing would warrant that, sir,"
I slid most of my underthings off and gestured to my bicep with the long healed knife wound scar, or, more specifically, the bruises that laid on top of it. My fingers lightly danced over the top of it.
I turned around so my back would face him, and I took off the rest of my clothes. Though I was completely naked, the important bits weren't in his sight. I slipped on a night gown.
As I turned around, Mr Lancaster was already laying in bed, obviously waiting for me. I took the extra pillow that was next to him and put it on a sofa, which I designated as my bed for the night. It was warm out, so I didn't need a blanket, though I would have preferred one.
Curled up on the sofa, I sighed from content.
"Good night sir," I mumbled with my face in the pillow.
Mr Lancaster just gave me an angry grunt.