'When you have expectations, you are setting yourself up for disappointment.'
- Ryan Reynolds
Emilia rose out of bed soon after, leaning heavily on Samuel. Her ankle was largely swollen and throbbed with a consistent pain. The doctor had left something for her head which had numbed the ache a little and, despite Mrs. Lewis' protests, she went downstairs into the shop where she resumed her work at the sewing table. She greeted customers and worked on projects as she would everyday.
Something within her had changed: She wanted to forget the past as best she could. She wanted to stay with her identity as the widow, Mrs. Fisher, she wanted to stop worrying about the scandals and secrets of being the illegitimate daughter of an Earl and an unmarried mother. She just wanted to start her life fresh, leaving Christopher South, Henry Collins and her unknown mother in the past. She wanted to focus on raising Jane. She was content to live life without a husband, she thought, perhaps her whole life did not depend on having one. She figured she could survive well enough on her own.
"Emilia dear, would you like to stop for some lunch?" Mrs. Lewis asked, startling Emilia out of her daydreams.
"Oh, yes please. I've just finished these trousers."
"Perfect. Why don't you stay here for luncheon? I've got some meat pie from last night if you'd like that."
"Yes please, if you have enough." "Of course I do. We'll close up the shop for lunch and we can eat upstairs. I think Fredrick will be home soon."
"Oh," Emilia waited for the usual fluttering in her breast but it didn't come. Mrs. Lewis shut up the shop and lead her upstairs.
Ten minutes into lunch Fredrick arrived, looking flushed and tousled, but smiling.
"Good afternoon Emilia, ma," he planted a kiss on his mother's cheek before taking a plate from the cupboard and filling it with food. He sat next to Emilia, looking between the two, a lopsided grin on his face. "How was your day Emilia? I heard you went to a play yesterday? How was that?" He asked.
"It was very good, how are you?" Emilia asked.
"Well, very well," he seemed oblivious to the events of last night; perhaps he did not know, but he seemed to be chipper and in good spirits. Seeing this only raised Emilia's spirits and she found that she was able to laugh and speak more freely than in the morning. She delighted in his company and was saddened when the twenty minutes were over and Fredrick had to leave. She said a fond farewell to him before returning to her work and thoughts of a solitary life.
Later that afternoon Emilia returned home, limping badly, to find Jane, Samuel and Lettie sitting comfortably in Samuel's small room.
"Emilia, how are you feeling?" Samuel rose to greet his sister.
"I'm better thank you, how were the girls?"
"Good, would you like some tea or something?"
"No thank you, I just want to sleep if I'm honest. Hello Jane, did you have a good day?" She greeted her daughter who shrugged aimlessly and continued to play with the little wooden soldiers that Lettie had brought.
"Are you sure you're fine? You look worn out."
"I am tired and sore, but emotionally I think I'm fine."
"I don't think someone in your state can be emotionally fine."
"Believe me, I just don't want to think about it. Thank you," she kissed his cheek. "Come on Jane, we should return home." She held her hand out and Jane reluctantly stood and took her mother's hand. "Good night Samuel, Lettie," Emilia hobbled out the door and down the stairs, her little daughter in tow.
Thirty minutes later Emilia sat in a warm tub of water, not scrubbing herself, but resting with her eyes closed, the water soothing her tired muscles. Jane, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, wrapped in a thin towel, gurgled happily.
"Perhaps this is where I belong," Emilia mused, half to her daughter and half to herself. "Perhaps I'm forever destined to be a spinster aunt. That wouldn't be so bad." She figured that if she'd never experienced true love than she couldn't miss it. Maybe a single, working life would be all right.
She closed her eyes, content with that thought. Maybe pursuing Fredrick's affection was not the best course of action.
"Emilia?" Emilia eyes flew open, startled by the voice. Mrs. Webb was on the other side of the door, calling her name. "Mrs. Webb? I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."
"That's fine dear, it's already half nine, perhaps you'd like to get to bed?"
"Oh yes, I'm sorry, I'll be out in a moment." Emilia stood up hastily, pulling the old plug from the bath and grabbing a towel from the rickety wooden chair. She wrapped it around herself, stepping out of the bath and drying hastily. "Mama," Jane had also fallen asleep and she awoke now, her blue eyes bleary with sleep.
"Hush, we'll get you to bed, let me change." Emilia slipped her nightgown on and, picking Jane up, headed out the bathroom and up the stairs to the attic where she was able to sleep properly at last.
The next few days mostly consisted of work, Jane, Samuel and sleep. Emilia's ankle and bump on her head healed for the most part and she was able to walk a little more normally. She didn't see Fredrick again until the following Sunday. She was with her brother and the two girls and they were strolling along the street when she caught sight of a familiar face.
"Fredrick, Mr. Perkins!" She called out. The two men in question turned, Fredrick smiling brightly, Mr. Perkins looking startled. They waved and made their way over.
"Emilia, how are you?"
"I'm well, Fredrick, you've met my brother. Mr. Perkins, this is Samuel." "Mr. Perkins, a pleasure," Samuel nodded, shaking the other man's hand.
"The pleasure's all mine." Mr. Perkins replied amiably.
"Where's Mrs. Perkins?" Emilia asked.
"She's gone down to visit her, erm, father, in New York."
"I thought her father lived in Brazil," Emilia looked confused but he cut in hastily.
"I'm sorry, we've got to go. We're catching a show. Nice to meet you Mr. agh," he looked peeved but Samuel smiled.
"Turner."
"Mr. Turner, Mrs. Fisher," Mr. Perkins, looking harried, hurried away. Fredrick shot a grin over his shoulder and followed his companion.
"I'm sorry to break something to you, but I think I have to." Samuel turned to Emilia.
"Yes?"
"You know our cousin Richard?"
Their cousin Richard, a bright young man, had a secret that was kept in the family: He preferred the company of men to women.
"Yes," Emilia puzzled; had something happened to their cousin?"
"I'm afraid your Fredrick and Mr. Perkins are both like him."
"What? No," Emilia laughed. "I think you are mistaken." "No, I assure you, I can tell." "Samuel you're being ridiculous." Emilia laughed. "They're not, they're just friends. Mr. Perkins's married anyway."
"Whatever you say, let's get some tea."
Max sat at the small desk he had managed to cram into his already cramped bedroom. The letter that had arrived a day ago lay unopened. It was from Lucille. She had finally replied after his five letters and he was now too scared to open it; what if she scorned him? Laughed at his awkward affection? The letter had haunted his thoughts since it arrived. He picked it up, looking at the elegant curling script that is was addressed in. Cursing his foolishness, put it down again, unopened and pulled his tattered notebook over, thinking that if perhaps he tried to work more on his play he could get his mind off the letter.
That plan failed approximately three minutes later. He threw his pen down and picked up the envelope, staring at it once more before extracting a letter opener and ripping the top of the letter open. He pulled out the paper, breathing deeply several times before unfolding it and reading it:
Mr. Lewis,
Kindly do not write to me anymore. I am not quite sure who you are, though I'm sure we've met, and I find your affection quite disturbing.
-Miss L. Donal
Max blinked; had he read that right? He was not so arrogant as to think that she would fall at his feet the first go round, but he expected her to at least recognize his name, at least remember him. He reread the letter twice more, trying to wrap his mind around it.
Was it possible that he was mistaken and he in fact, had no chance with Lucille Donal? That all his dreams of her were in vain? He had never thought that would be the case. He'd always imagined some scenario in which they would meet up and she would recognize him, greet him and smile. He would do the same and they would fall to talking and she would laugh at his wit and make some coy response before drifting off into the crowd. They would see each other soon after and then some sort of ritual involving Saturday afternoon walks would occur and before she knew what hit her, she would be head over heels in love with him.
But apparently that was not the case.
Slightly disheartened, Max put the letter down and stood up, rubbing his eyes. He'd had enough disappointment for one day and he decided a man could only handle so much. He left his room, stepping into the small sitting room to tell his mother he'd be out.
He stepped out into the warm afternoon and headed down to the library. It was cool and quiet there and just what Max needed. He stepped into the large building, greeting the librarian and finding an armchair to settle down in with a book.
Time went buy swiftly and five o'clock found Max on his way to the pub, thinking that a glass of something strong would do something for his spirits.
He couldn't have been more wrong; Alexander Perkins and Fredrick were also at the pub, a pint each, talking with their heads close together.
"Max!" Alexander was the first to see him and Fredrick turned around, frowning.
"Gentlemen," Max sighed, tossing a coin on the counter in return for a glass of scotch. He sat next to his brother, looking at the two men seriously. "What brings you here?"
"I think you know what," Fredrick said darkly.
"I feared so." Max shook his head and took a sip, finding the beverage suddenly very weak.
"Max," Fredrick began but Max shook his head, slamming the glass back on the table.
"Fredrick you're pushing your luck. You need to be more careful. You know what will happen."
"I don't need you lecturing me like I'm a child. I know I need to be careful."
"Do you? Because you don't act like it." Max took another sip, watching his brother.
"Max, believe me, Fred knows what he's doing," Alexander said gently, placing a hand on Max's arm. Max shook it off, glaring at him.
"Does he? Because he's acting like an immature, spoiled child if you ask me and he's going to get himself and you in hot water. Maybe even the whole family." Max pushed the empty glass away and stood, stalking out of the bar, his mood infinitely worse.
Slow update, I just got back from a 2 week trip to England which was fun. And I also turned 14! (On the 24th) so yeah... Been fun.
Anyway, if you liked this chapter please vote and leave any thoughts in the comment.
Cool beans,
-Biancs