Hindrances

Chapter 23

We didn't talk about that incident. Mr Lancaster would sometimes give me a quick kiss on the cheek, and we still slept in each other's arms, but there wasn't a push for anything more than that.
The next morning, I was able to see England. My excitement rose, since I was happy to be back. America was exciting, but it can't compare to my beautiful England. I bounded around the ship, tugging on Mr Lancaster's sleeves, and encouraging him to hurry up. I would swear that I saw a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Mr Lancaster! Come on! You're not that old!"
Mr Lancaster playfully growled. He spun me around so my back was to him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. Then he picked me up. I screamed and thrashed around, trying to get out of his grip.
Mr Lancaster laughed.
He really laughed.
It wasn't a quiet chuckle. This laugh resonated within his chest. It was deep, masculine, and beautiful at the same time. And I loved it.
I didn't comment on it though. It felt like he would try to stop it if I said something.
Mr Lancaster set me down, but he didn't let me go. He kept his arms around me and pressed a soft kiss on my shoulder. I sighed happily. As soon as his hold on me loosened, I sprinted.
"Miss Hemmings!"
Once I was far enough away, I stuck my tongue out at him mockingly.
"We're ready to dock anyway, si- Mr Lancaster, so get back to work!"
He laughed some more, and my heart began to flutter.
We landed in Brighton.
"We will be back in London tomorrow morning," he informed me. I nodded to acknowledge him, but I didn't respond.
I was just happy to be back.
Mr Lancaster got a carriage, and we boarded it quickly. I was ready to bounce off the walls, since I was so excited to be back in London. I missed Cas and Connor, and it was probably time for me to show my face at another ball. I still felt hesitant about going to a ball, but there was no way Dayus could get to me if I stayed by Mr Lancaster.

Just because you care for him, it doesn't mean he cares for you.

But he did say that he cares more than he should...

That doesn't mean much. How much should he care? Probably zero. Just because he might care for me 0.5 (out of 100), it doesn't mean I should get carried away.

In the end, I decided that I cared for Mr Lancaster than he would ever care for me, but it was something I was willing to do.
I ended up sleeping in the carriage for most of the way. For some reason, I was exhausted. Or perhaps bored, but I still slept when I wanted to.
Now that we were back in London, I knew Mr Lancaster wouldn't touch or caress me in the same way he did on the ship or in America. Reality was in London, which means business is strict and fantasies are just that- fantasies.
It all might as well have been a dream. A beautiful dream.
But dreams dissipate in reality.
By 8 in the morning (excuse me, "7:56 and 46 seconds"), we landed at Lancaster Offices.
My home... (Well, not really, but close enough).
My "home" appeared to have a few men of the law at the entrance as well.
Armed with my luggage and Mr Lancaster at my side, I approached.
"Good morning, Officers," I said pleasantly.
"Ameila Hemmings?"
"Yes."
"Your caregivers have requested that you be sent home at once."
I sighed with annoyance.
"Okay," I said after some hesitation, "see you tomorrow morning, Mr Lancaster." I just did a 180° turn and marched home. At my last glance, Mr Lancaster looked stiff as he tersely switched words with the policemen.
I walked quickly, since I wanted the torment to be over sooner rather than later.
Setting my luggage down, I harshly knocked on the door three times before letting myself in-
"AMELIA HEMMINGS! YOU BASTARD GIRL, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"
"Christ Celine, quiet down, won't you? And I was in Mississippi."
"Oh, now it's Mississippi? Not Venezuela?"
"Correct. I did end up in Chicago for a little bit too. They are putting together a remarkable sewage system, I haven't ever seen anything like it-"
I felt Celine's hand across my face before I even saw her. The surprise threw me off more than the pain.
"The real answer, you whore!"
I smiled at that.
"Wow, I've gotten really rich for just being a whore... Tell me, Celine, how much do you think a whore earns each day?"
Celine's temper died down when she heard me say "rich."
"I-I'm not sure, maybe a couple of pounds."
"No, I asked how much they make, not how they make the money," I laughed at my own joke, "however, I'd like to point out that at this rate..." I dig through some papers in my luggage, "I am making 375 pounds a day, and that number just keeps going up."
Celine choked while I modestly shrugged.
"You... Your dowery would be fantastic! Tonight, we are going to the ballet."
"I thought balls were the way to pick up a child- I mean husband."
"Use your imagination, stupid child!"
"I run a business, Celine, though it's not completely legal, I'm not stupid."
She staggered slightly, "not... Legal...? Oh child, don't ruin it now-"
"Why do you want me here?"
"We can finally marry you off. You turn 20 next month, and we- your uncle and I- believe that you will be a spinster if you wait much longer."
"But you're not married-"
"Widowed! There's a difference between unmarried and widowed!"
I love pissing her off like that. Even the second slap across my face was worth it.
I ran up to my room. It hadn't been touched since the last time I was in it. That made me smile. I quickly wrote a letter to Mr Lancaster.