by Abigail Agar
“How will you keep a home with the sort of man that they wish for you to marry? You have to learn to cook,” Amelia said.
“Maybe, if I continue as a seamstress, we will afford to keep a cook,” Emma said with a laugh.
“Ha! You will have to marry very well if that is to be the case. But I trust that you will be perfectly fine,” Amelia said, shaking her mane of red hair and squinting her eyes in the same way that the man had done the previous day.
Amelia could see very well, but often squinted when she was trying to decide if something looked right.
“And you? I imagine that your mother has taught you to cook well?” Emma asked.
“I am a perfect cook,” Amelia said with a grin, her characteristic confidence showing.
“I have no doubt of it. But what I am truly curious to know is why it matters whether or not you can cook if you have no intention to marry,” Emma said.
“Because I shall have to cook for myself, which is of far more importance than cooking for a man,” Amelia said.
Emma stifled her laughter, appreciating Amelia’s strength, but often glad that she was not the same as her friend. That level of bitterness was not something that she would ever be proud of.
They heard the sound of the door to the shop opening and Emma remembered that Mr. and Mrs. Bonham were out again, as they so often were. She figured that she and Amelia would be left to try and run the shop again in addition to their duties as seamstresses.
“I shall go and have a look to see who it is,” she said.
“Oh, no, don’t worry. I have just finished this length and may greet them. You still have cutting to do for the bodice,” Amelia reasoned.
She departed and left Emma continuing her work. But after only a moment, she heard the sound of her name.
“Miss Sproul, I believe that we need your eye again,” Amelia called.
Emma was perplexed at that, but she set down the dress that she had been sewing and stood. Making her way out of the sewing room, she headed to the main shop.
There, standing before Amelia, was the man from the previous day. He looked bewildered and serious. Far more than simple discomfort.
He cleared his throat and looked at Amelia. Emma could see that there was something very intent in his mind. She could only wonder what it might be.
Chapter 5
“M-Miss Lockhart, may I speak with you?” Eric asked, his anxiety strong and his confidence weak. It was as though all of the strength within him had been stripped away.
Amelia looked at him with extreme suspicion.
“How did you know my name?” she asked, looking at her friend to make sure that she was not alone.
The shared look between them was quite clear. They did not trust him any longer.
“Forgive me, I do not wish to be rude, but I think it is best if the two of us speak alone. This is not regarding any dress for my mother,” he said.
Once more, the two ladies looked at each other. It was apparent that they wanted him to go, but Eric had no intention of leaving until he had been given the opportunity to tell Amelia exactly who he was.
“I do not know who you think you are, but I am not going anywhere with you,” Amelia said.
Eric looked at the floor in dismay. He wasn’t sure what to say to give her peace, but he felt quite confident that the shop, in front of Miss Sproul, was not the right place to have the discussion they needed to have.
“Miss Lockhart, I apologise if I have made you uncomfortable. I understand that this is strange, my coming here. But I promise you that if you just come and speak with me, you will understand,” Eric said, smiling as best as he could in order to gain her trust.
It was frightening for him as well, trying to convince Amelia that she should come and speak with him. He had previously thought that she might think him a mad man, but alas, it appeared that his fear had come to pass.
“Sir, I am not foolish enough to go off alone with a man. Particularly the sort who is wealthy and considers themselves to be beyond consequence as so many do. I have no idea what it is that makes you believe that I would be so dim-witted to follow you alone into the road or wherever it is that you would take me,” she said.
Her beautiful friend, Miss Sproul, stood and watched the exchange. He could not read her expression. Was it fear? Perhaps she was frightened of him. But there was also a strange look of hurt on her face and he wondered if she was bothered that he was asking to see Amelia alone when he had watched her so intently the day before.
But Eric still had no knowledge of how he might be able to get Amelia to speak with him alone. He wished that Reginald had come. Eric had told him not to. He had told him that this was something that he would need to take care of all on his own.
But now, here he was. Now, Eric was attempting to convince his sister to come and speak with him when she believed him to be a bad man who may have ignoble designs upon her.
“I understand that. I wish that I might be able to convince you because I have something very important to tell you and I do not think that you will wish for company in the midst of it,” he said, knowing that he had to try whatever he could.
But Amelia shook her head in a displeased amazement.
“I have no knowledge of what it is that has made you so stubborn in this affair, but I have learned from my mother what happens when a young woman trusts a wealthy man. I have no intention of following you and you would be a fool to think otherwise,” she said, rather sternly.
Of course, Eric understood this. He knew what she meant even more than she could possibly be aware. And why shouldn’t she be wary of him? What his father did to her mother was inexcusable. But he couldn’t explain that without simply telling her the truth.
And that was when Eric realised that he had no other choice. He would have to be open with her, even if he was not yet ready.
“Well, then, I suppose that what I must say to you must be said in front of your friend. It would appear that I have no other choice,” he said, clearing his throat.
Amelia put her hand on her hip and looked at him with expectation.
“Miss Amelia Lockhart, I know only too well what it is that you are saying. My father passed away recently and, while going through his belongings, I found a stack of letters written by a Miss Liza Lockhart. Love letters. Letters that ended with the announcement to him that she was pregnant with his child,” Eric said, allowing the final words to linger in the air.
Amelia stared at him and he stared back, waiting for any sort of response. From the corner of his eye, he saw Miss Sproul mirroring their frozen image.
“M-my father had no other children,” Amelia said. It was hardly the response that he expected, but it was a start.
“He did. I was born first. I found the letters from twenty years ago. I was eight years of age then. And I only just learned about you. I came into town yesterday, immediately after learning about you and I wanted to find you,” Eric said.
Amelia hesitated, apparently trying to find the words that she needed to say.
“Why ever would you want to find me? What importance am I to you?” she asked.
“Y…you are my sister. Why would you ask what importance that is to me? I wish to know you, to have a relationship with you. I never had another sibling and I cannot bear the thought of not knowing you,” Eric said.
“You are a fool,” she said back, with venom that he had not anticipated.
“Wh –”
“What makes you think that I would ever want to know you? Your father was a man who destroyed us. He destroyed my mother, he left me fatherless. We had to defend our honour and reputation at all times because of what he did. And you just come here and believe that I shall welcome you with open arms?” she asked, her voice bordering on hysteria.
Eric was stricken. He had not expected that she would be so angry or hurt. He had not thought that she would respond in this way.
Yes, he had known that it would all come as a shock to her.
He had been fully aware that Amelia would not have expected him to waltz into her life in this way. But he had thought that she would be happy, excited even, to learn that she had a brother.
How could he have been so foolish?
Even after his mother had warned him, he had still believed that Amelia would be happy to know him.
But, alas, here they were. She was angry, and he was dumbfounded.
“You do not wish to know one another?” he asked.
“I would never. It is your family that ruined mine. Leave at once,” she said.
Heartbroken, Eric had no idea what to do. He stood there, unable to move for a moment.
“I told you to leave,” Amelia repeated, rather sternly.
Eric took in a deep breath and looked to Miss Sproul, pleading with his eyes for her to speak in his defence. But she stood, looking at the floor with embarrassment. She was not going to help him convince Amelia that she needed to speak with him, to accept him.
He turned from the two women, accepting that he would not find the reception that he had longed for, that he had imagined with constant hope for the past two days.
Eric drifted out of the door as though he were not even inside himself. It felt as though he was floating, watching the scene unfold, watching his unhappy posture mournfully wander the street back to the inn where Reginald was awaiting him.
He arrived and went to the rooms that they had rented for their stay and found Reginald on the other side of the door, a book in his hands.
“Ah, you are back so soon?” he asked. Immediately upon looking at Eric, Reginald’s face changed.
Eric swallowed his disappointment.
“I am sorry. It did not go as you wished that it would?” Reginald asked.
“No, it did not. She is angry at my father and refused to speak with me as a result. I cannot imagine how angry she must be to have responded the way that she did. Honestly, Reginald, I never imagined that she would be so filled with anger,” Eric said.
Reginald was quiet and Eric had nothing more to say for the moment. Everything that he had been hoping for had been stripped away and he was left without the one thing that he had come to Finchley to find.
“Do you believe that she will change her mind?” Reginald asked.
“Change her mind? About her hatred toward my father?” Eric asked.
“About wanting to know you. Maybe, once she has had time to calm from all of this, once she is able to understand that you are not your father, maybe then she will accept you,” Reginald said.
“That is very doubtful. I have scarcely seen a woman so filled with rage. It was a calm, quiet anger. The most frightening kind,” Eric said.
“But surely she will begin to grow curious. You are her brother. She will want to know you, I am sure of it. No one wants to be separated from family, no matter the circumstances,” Reginald said.
“Well, this is a special case, it would appear. Amelia hates my father with a venom that I can understand, although it wounds me to see it. There is nothing that will change her mind,” Eric said.
“But you do not know her. You do not know how she might be swayed to want to know her brother. Whatever she knows about your father, her father, maybe you could be the one to show her that not every man is the product of the man who raised him,” Reginald said, a sadness in his voice.
Eric knew that Reginald’s own father had not been a good man and that it was a fortune that Reginald earned his own wealth and became quite a gentleman away from his father. With that in mind, Eric knew that if anyone understood having a dreadful father, it was Reginald.
“Yes, perhaps that is true. I only wish that I could convince my sister of that reality. I wish that she would have an understanding of the fact that I am not a terrible man simply because I have wealth. That was never something that even occurred to me as a possibility,” Eric said.
“So what are you going to do about it? Do you plan to give up? Or will you help her see that you are a good man, and one worth knowing at that?” Reginald asked.
Eric had to think for a moment.
Amelia had told him to leave. She had been angry. She had been furious that he had dared to come and speak with her.
Was he willing to put himself in her line of fire once more? Could he bear to have her so angry at him when he knew well that he was not guilty of the things that angered her so greatly?
Eric still did not know what to do, but he wanted to try and fight. He wanted to know his sister and the only way that he was going to do that was to be strong and brave, bold and determined.
And if she still refused him, if she rejected him even then, he would have no choice but to accept that his father had ruined him as well.
Chapter 6
Emma remained speechless as Amelia retreated back into the sewing room. She didn’t know what to do or say or how she could comfort her friend.
What she did know was that Amelia would not accept comfort. She would certainly not accept pity. She would only remain angry and determined not to let the man, the man whose name they had not even learned, come anywhere near them.
Emma followed Amelia back into the sewing room and sat silently, nearly afraid to move in case Amelia thought it a gesture in defence of the man.
“Go ahead,” Amelia said, catching her off guard.
“What?” Emma asked.
“Go ahead,” Amelia repeated.
“Go ahead with what? What are you talking about?” Emma asked.
“I am talking about your thoughts and whatever is on your mind. You may go ahead and speak it aloud,” Amelia said.
Emma still didn’t know what she ought to say. She did not for a moment believe that Amelia wanted to hear her opinion.
“I am only surprised. You said that you had no siblings,” Emma said.
“Which is what my mother told me. And if this man is telling the truth, clearly my mother was trying to protect me in case my father ever tried to do anything further to harm us. She must not have wanted me to be tempted by the thought of a brother or sister,” Amelia said.
Emma merely nodded, thinking that was a very kind excuse to give her mother for something that robbed her of a relationship with her family.
“Anyway, we had best forget the whole matter,” Amelia said.
Unable to imagine how someone could forget the sudden appearance of a long lost sibling, Emma tried to be peaceful. She did not want to upset Amelia when things were so difficult for her. No matter what bravado her friend put on, Emma could see that she was hurting.
“You know what I would like to do?” Amelia asked against the quiet.
“What?” Emma asked in reply, glad that Amelia had been the one to speak first.
“I think that after we finish our work, we ought to make our way to the tavern. Just to relax for a while. Nothing salacious or drunken, just a bit of time to enjoy ourselves and relax from everything that is going on around us,” Amelia said.
Emma disliked the idea. She was not a fan of the tavern and knew that her mother and father would never approve of her going. It was not the sort of place that a young woman with a good reputation should ever be seen.
