There was just one problem. The door was ajar.
She clutched her suitcase tightly as she considered her other options. She could double back and try her luck at the front, but Geoffrey was often found near the front and she was quite sure he was the only one she’d be unable to talk her way out of if she were caught.
There was another exit near the servants quarters if she could make it before Anne and the other girl returned. And it was possible her father had stepped out and that his study was empty, but she couldn’t be sure.
Emmaline swallowed hard. Time was slipping by. For all she knew, Stoddard was already waiting for her by the tree that very moment. And the longer she hesitated the more likely she’d be discovered.
Squaring her shoulders, she recommitted to her plan. She’d have to brave it.
With slow, deliberate steps she crept forward, keeping close to the wall. When she was beside the door, she clutched her suitcase against her chest. She’d do it quickly, and if she was spotted she would make a run for it. She felt confident that she could reach the door before she was stopped. From there it was a straight shot across the lawn to the oak and she and Stoddard would slip away forever.
But, as she was readying herself to run, an unexpected sound caused her to hesitate. She thought she heard crying—and it was coming from her father’s study. The urge to run crossed her mind again, but her curiosity had been piqued.
Setting down her suitcase, she peered inside the study. At first she thought the room might be empty and that her ears were playing tricks on her, but then she saw the figure of her father kneeling beside his desk. He was bent over, his head hung low as he clutched the edge of his chair. His whole body shook as he wept openly.
The sight startled Emmaline. She’d never seen her father cry before. Stumbling upon him like this felt almost blasphemous, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. It stirred something inside her and she took a slow step into the room. All about him she saw signs of strife. Papers had been torn and tossed about the study as well as broken articles and books littering the floor.
Her father remained unaware of her presence until she stood nearly in front of him. When he realized she was there, he looked up at her with helpless eyes. He made no effort to conceal his disheveled state. Glancing toward the open door, he saw her suitcase and realization washed over him.
“You’re leaving?” Worthington asked.
Emmaline nodded.
“Then it’s come to that,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I can’t say I blame you. Even a fool could see it’s time to abandon this ship. A fool should have seen it sooner.”
He made a noise that sounded part chuckle and part sob though Emmaline had difficulty telling which it was. It unnerved her.
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Emmaline said. “We’ll find our way.”
“We?”
“Stoddard has agreed to go with me,” she said. It sounded so strange to say it out loud, but she said it with all the resolve she could muster. It wouldn’t do now to question the inevitable.
“Stoddard,” her father repeated. “Rigimor’s apprentice?”
Emmaline nodded again.
“That will do, I suppose. He seemed capable.” His voice was so low that Emmaline was having difficulty hearing him. “I expect your mother will follow suit in time.”
“What else do you expect us to do?” Emmaline questioned, her hurt coming through in her voice. “You abandoned us in Sorrento. All these years we thought you were here waiting for the right time to bring us over, but all you were doing was keeping us at arm’s length while you lived a double life. We did everything you said to do to prepare, but you kept delaying. Would you even have sent for us at all if you hadn’t been forced to?”
Worthington’s face was streaked with tears as he cast a pained look at his daughter. Emmaline discerned the truth in that look and it wounded both of them.
“Do you know how that feels?” Emmaline asked. “To think you’re wanted and then to find out that you’re nothing but an afterthought to your father? That some strange woman somewhere is more deserving of his love? Did you ever love us?”
“I do love you,” Worthington whispered.
“Then why would you do it?” Emmaline asked.
Worthington’s jaw tightened in the seconds that passed. Emmaline could see his troubled thoughts in his eyes. He was searching for the answers as desperately as she was, and from his worsening expression it was clear that what he was turning up did not sit well.
“Because I forgot,” he said finally. “Somewhere I lost sight of what we had. What was real. I let it get too far from me.”
“Do you honestly believe we could keep living like this?” Emmaline asked. “It’s one thing for you to lie to yourself, but to expect us to endure them too? You can’t just do whatever it is that you want and expect us to follow you blindly. This is our life too. We should have a choice in how we live it.”
Now that she’d begun to levy her charges against her father the momentum carried her on. Things were changed, undoubtedly, and for the first time Emmaline felt she was free to be completely open and honest with her father. The sense of liberation swelled in her as she spoke.
“I’m not some pawn you can move around whenever you fancy,” she said. “I liked our home in Sorrento. I was happy there. I didn’t want to leave. But you brought me here, and I had to sacrifice what I wanted for the sake of our family. And then, after coming here, I discover we don’t even have a family!”
She paused, her excitement getting the better of her.
“Why couldn’t you have just left us there?” she asked.
Her father looked up at her again amidst her accusations. “Perhaps I should have, all things considered,” he acknowledged. “I’m not sure what it is I thought would happen. I can’t answer that except to say that I wasn’t looking forward. I suppose I thought that I’d always find some way to manage. That I’d always have options.”
“Well,” Emmaline said, “it’s time for me to consider mine.”
Worthington nodded, again surprising her with his willingness to see her go. “Do you have everything you need?” he asked. “It’s difficult to get started somewhere new.”
“Stoddard and I will manage,” Emmaline assured him.
Worthington’s gaze fell. “I know you will. Your mother and I had little when we first started out, too, but we found our way. There’s always a way for things to work out. At least, that’s what we told ourselves then. Now that I think of it,” he mused, “I think those first few years were the happiest of our lives.”
He looked up at Emmaline, and Emmaline was shocked as she felt for the first time that he was actually looking at her. In his eyes she could see he was taking her in, capturing this moment before she was gone.
“I was never worthy of your mother,” he confessed. “I knew it from the first day that I met her. And when you came along my inadequacies only became clearer to me. When I first held you in my arms, I remember feeling a profound sense of responsibility for you, and a fear that I might one day let you down. And today I see I’ve lived to see that fear fulfilled.” Worthington said, his expression intense as he clasped her hand in his.
He struggled to speak, his sobs making each sentence laborious.
“If you must go, I understand,” he continued. “But you must do one thing, for the sake of your father’s memory.” His expression intensified as he clasped her hand in his. “Promise me, Emmaline, that wherever you go, wherever life takes you, you’ll remember your fool of a father. Don’t for a second repeat my mistakes. If you truly love this boy, and he loves you, then stay close to him. Don’t ever let go of what you have, come what may.”
Emmaline stood surprised as her father clung to her hand. Something had certainly changed, like the shifting of the tides. Whether in the air or within the estate itself, something was lifting. She felt it around her and saw its effect profoundest
in her father. Gone was the stern confidence she’d come to expect, replaced by this fallible man with all his weaknesses and shortcomings. It was an honest portrayal, and his declaration seemed sincere.
Emmaline had spent much of the time waiting in her room imagining her father’s efforts to stop her once he’d found out. She’d expected him to put up a fight, to lock her in her room and destroy the key. She’d imagined him appearing in a few days to rip her away from Stoddard like any father might after their daughter had run off.
Yet, her father showed no intention of stopping her. On the contrary, he was seeing her off—and with his blessing.
Despite him being the cause of their misfortunes, Emmaline felt for her father as she watched him wrestle with his many failures. Her anger and resentment was dispersing as she felt the first clear sign that he cared for her, and that he would be willing to lose her for her own wellbeing.
Could she really abandon him now, like this?
Emmaline’s heart swelled within her chest and tears rose in her eyes as she anticipated the choice that lay before her. Her thoughts went to Stoddard, standing by the tree at that very moment. He was waiting to take her away from this horrible situation. To save her from such a fate.
But as she stood beside her father in the quiet of his study and listened to him acknowledge his wrongs she felt torn between them. If her father could see his errors then not all hope was lost. Their family could still be saved. But if she left, then that chance would be lost forever.
No, Emmaline realized. This was the moment her uncle had warned her about.
Even as she thought it she knew what her choice would be. She looked out the window toward the hedge. Would he understand?
Kneeling down beside her father, Emmaline put her arm on his shoulder.
Worthington looked up, surprise in his face to see her still there. Despite his haggard and dejected look, she could see his eagerness—a hope he yet clung too despite the rest of him succumbing to the inevitable.
A hope that he might not be left alone.
Emmaline took her father’s hand in hers again.
“What is this?” he asked.
“A second chance,” Emmaline said. “If you really meant what you said, then there’s no reason to go just yet. I don’t think we’re as lost as we once were.”
“Truly?” Worthington’s face skewed as he wrestled with what she was saying. “How? After all that I’ve put you through. After all I’ve done.”
“Because we’re family,” she said, smiling. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make it up to me.”
Worthington looked like he might break into tears again, but he smiled back at her.
“But don’t think that it’s business as usual,” Emmaline said, adopting her father’s typically business-like demeanor. “If I’m going to stay then there are a few things that are going to have to change. I’m not a child anymore.”
Worthington let out a laugh. “What gods conspired to bless me with a daughter like you, Emmaline?” he said, new tears forming in his eyes as he pulled her close to him in a tight embrace.
The two knelt together on the floor for a while, clutching one another as thoughts of a new future began to enter their minds. Not all was lost, and what had been could be regained in time. What mattered most was that, despite everything they’d gone through, they were still a family.
As Emmaline clung to her father, she recognized in his strong arms the sense of belonging she’d missed since her childhood. Finally, after many years waiting, her father had come home.
Epilogue
STODDARD ROCKED ON HIS FEET as he paced back and forth under the great oak. His nerves were getting the best of him while he waited for Emmaline in the little grove. Despite his best efforts, however, they would not be calmed. It was impossible to stand still at a time like this.
Though he couldn’t resist the frequent glance toward the estate, Stoddard fought to stay back behind the tree in an effort to remain hidden. Each time he risked a peek he imagined he would see her, running across the lawn toward him. He imagined her smiling as she’d leap into his arms and they slipped away through the hedge.
But so far there was no sign of her.
He tried not to let it get to him. Checking his pocket watch, he acknowledged his promptness. He was a bit early as it was, and he couldn’t very well expect Emmaline to have as easy a time getting away as he had. Despite having left a note at the shop, Stoddard was quite certain his absence wouldn’t be noticed for a day or two.
Again he set about pacing behind the tree, but a voice nagged at him in the back of his mind, rattling on in an effort to question all that was happening.
What was happening?
Stoddard asked himself that many times as he grasped his head. He was drifting somewhere between wonder and confusion. So much had happened since Emmaline first arrived in Hatteras—none of it expected. Like a fresh wind coming in from the sea she’d breathed life into his mundane existence. She’d stirred something in him, awoken him to a want he’d long suppressed.
Reluctant for much of his life, she’d inspired him to take a chance. Overlooked, he’d finally been noticed. And unlike the many others who’d paused over him only a moment during his apprenticeship before moving on, Emmaline had decided to take a chance on him.
Stoddard smiled inwardly as he thought about her and what their life would be. In his pockets he carried what little money he’d been able to save during his apprenticeship, and in his hand he held two tickets for the morning train inland. It would take them as far as Belhaven. There they’d be far enough away from Emmaline’s family that he felt they could put their feet on the ground. Perhaps he could take up work for a season before they made a final decision where they were heading.
He felt the heavy responsibility resting on his shoulders, but it was a weight he was more than willing to bear for her. It wasn’t going to be easy, he had no illusions about that. Starting over was never so simple as it seemed. He’d tried to make that clear to Emmaline for fear that she might turn back once they were in the thick of things. But Emmaline was no daughter of the meritocracy, and she understood what it was that he could offer.
And still she’d chosen to go with him.
Stoddard couldn’t contain his smile.
The sun was getting low and the shadows of the hedge stretched further away as they reached toward the estate. Still Stoddard waited by the tree. The bounce in his step had gone some, replaced by an anxious vigil as he stood ever watchful for Emmaline’s appearance.
The hour had come and gone when they’d agreed to meet, and Stoddard was beginning to fear the worst. In his mind played out the dozens of scenarios that could jeopardize their escape, each one more dire than the last. Had something gone wrong? Had her family discovered her intent? Was she at that very moment being held against her will while her father summoned the police to arrest Stoddard?
Each scenario added to his anxiety, but one thought plagued Stoddard’s soul most of all.
Had Emmaline changed her mind?
The question crept forward from the recesses of Stoddard’s mind, nagging at his resolve as he watched each of the lights come on in the estate. He made no effort to hide himself behind the tree anymore. In the failing light he would be hard to spot. He stared at each of the windows, trying to make out Emmaline’s figure. If she had been stopped, perhaps she would send him a sign. Something to let him know she was alright, and that he should come for her another night.
But no sign came.
Stoddard turned and kicked at a patch of grass. His hands sank in his pockets as he shook his head. No, he assured himself. She’d meant what she’d said. She would be there.
She would come.
Stoddard tightened his arms around his chest as the cold night air brushed across his skin and settled into his bones. He was leaned against the tree, his head bowed low and his shoulders hunched. His body shook slightly, but he’d remained unmoved from his s
pot for hours. He’d stopped looking toward the estate. He wasn’t sure he could bear the torture of that empty lawn any longer.
Emmaline had not appeared.
And the longer he’d waited the more certain he was of the reason. As Stoddard looked over his faded clothes and considered the meager fortune he could fit in a single pocket he wondered how he’d ever thought he could tempt Emmaline from her father’s estate. There she was provided for. There she was comfortable. Sure, she’d had a disagreement with her father but was that enough? Was love really so desirable when it meant losing all of that?
Stoddard felt in the gesture the same sense of abandonment he’d experienced as a child when his parents had first sent him away, and again with each passing year of his apprenticeship as he was looked over time and time again. Just as before, he’d been appraised and found insignificant. He wasn’t even certain why he allowed his hopes to rise at all anymore.
Except that he’d honestly believed Emmaline would be the one.
From the moment he’d first seen her coming down the stairs at her father’s dinner party he’d felt the inklings of a dream. And in their first words he’d heard the faint echoes of a promise. When she’d first come to his shop and walked with him down the winding streets he’d felt pieces moving within him that had for years been idle. She’d touched something in him and left him changed. She’d left her mark, and that made his pain pierce all the deeper.
With a heavy breath Stoddard straightened up from the tree. His body ached from standing so long in one position. With a shudder he shook off the chill which had settled over him. It was done, and he felt the familiar sensation as he withdrew into himself again. He realized that he still held the train tickets in his hand. Staring long and hard at them he considered once more the dream he’d come so near to realizing.
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