Emilia Russell sighed softly, watching as the ink leaked from her pen onto the paper pile. She paused, before giving another sigh. “Utter rubbish. Nothing but rubbish.” Her hand moved, placing the pen down before she tore the pages into pieces. It had been three months since her brother had remarried, two months since her beloved niece Rosa had moved from Emmy’s humble lodgings to that of which she would share with her father and new mother, Dorothea. Emmy had been impressed when her brother had come to escort her and Rosa to see his new Mayfair townhouse. She had taken three-year-old Rosa by the hand, leading her through the house as they inspected it together. Emmy had had no illusions that she would be invited to live with them, even though both her brother Sinclair and his second wife credited her for their meeting.
After all, it had been Emmy’s idea to travel to London for the season of 1840. She had told her recently widowed brother about her desires to move to England, to leave behind her life in New York and to start anew. It had not been true, for Emmy’s life in London was much as it had been in America — she spent the better half of her days caring for her niece, the rest of her time dedicated to the novel she’d been writing for years. The only difference had been a man named Elias Cardew. At her first sight of him, Emmy found nothing remarkable in the man. She’d noted his cheeky grins, the way he always seemed to be in the middle of some flirtatious remark. Emmy had quickly written him off as a rake, but she had soon discovered Elias Cardew was nothing short of incredible. He had bowled his way into her life, making her laugh like no other. Elias Cardew had brought out a lightness in her Emmy had long forgotten about.
Despite this, she had not realised that he had fallen in love with her, not until they were standing out on a balcony at one of the countless balls of the season — there had been so many, Emmy had forgotten who had even hosted the event. She’d laughed at something he had said, her eyes cast out onto the gardens below them. “Mr Cardew?” Emmy had questioned, noting the man behind her had gone silent. He had chuckled in response “How many times have I asked you to call me Elias, hmm?” Emmy had rolled her eyes at this, turning around to tell him off for his lack of social propriety. When she had fully turned, Emmy was caught with a sight that had shocked her — Elias Cardew, on one knee, a small velvet ring box in his right hand. “Emilia Russ—” He’d begun, making it clear his intent was to ask for her hand.
Emmy had been horrified because, despite her clear affections for the man, she had never once seen him as a potential spouse. In truth, Emilia Russell had never seen any man as a potential spouse, she had vowed to herself at age six that she would remain unmarried forever — better to be a bluestocking and a spinster then like her father, who despite having all the wealth one man could desire, he had never quite recovered after the death of his wife. “Stop, please, Mr Cardew — please do not say something we will both come to regret.” She’d seen the flash of pain, of disappointment in his eyes. The sight had very nearly broken her own heart. Not having been able to look at him any longer, she brushed past him, going in search of her brother, who had only agreed to travel to London to appease his younger sister.
Emmy had only seen Mr Cardew a handful of times since then, most recently at her brother’s wedding. It had taken her by surprise, the feeling she was overcome with at seeing him again. Cardew had tucked himself into one of the pews, a beautiful woman at his side. Emmy realised she was jealous, jealous of the woman who had clearly won over the man she herself had rejected. Emmy had turned her eyes back to the altar, struggling to pay attention to the marriage ceremony. At some point, her eyes had become clouded with tears as Emmy became aware of her mistake. The man had stolen her heart, right under her nose — and naturally, Emilia Russell had been too stubborn to realise it.
The flashing memories became too much for Emmy, standing up quickly and moving away from her writing desk. She moved to stand at the window, watching the many faces of London bustle past. Emmy could bear it no more, and her decision was made at that moment. Since she no longer had a place as the primary female role model in her niece’s life, her elder brother was happier than he had ever been, and Emmy herself had ruined the one chance she had ever had at love, it was time to return home to America.
In the passing days, Emmy had secured a ticket for the next ship to New York City. She had informed her landlord that she would no longer require her lodgings, and broken the news to her brother and his family that she intended to leave England for good. Emmy had even, despite her better judgement, sent word to Mr Cardew. She had apologised and acknowledged her mistake — before explaining that she would be leaving the following Friday. As the time drew closer and closer to her departure, Emmy made her farewells.
She had asked Sin, Dottie and Rosa to not accompany her to London Harbour. The decision had not been one Emmy had taken lightly, but she had no desire to make a fool of herself in front of fellow passengers by sobbing like a newborn babe. Watching the other passengers load onto the ship, Emmy’s heart sunk in her chest. She had no real desire to return to New York, but the reality of living in London and possibly coming across Elias and his new love was too much for her to bear. Emmy turned to look to take one last look at the city of London before boarding the ship. Her small hand gripped tightly onto the rope of the ramp, and she took a few steps forward. “Emmy! Emmy!” Emmy tensed, thinking perhaps she had imagined it. With a solemn sigh, Emmy took another set of steps, walking herself up onto the deck of the ship. The same voice called out again, this time closer and more distinguishable. It was Elias Cardew.
Emmy was too stunned to speak, her eyes wide with shock as she saw him push past a series of passengers, rushing up onto the ship’s deck. “Emmy, stop!” He stumbled in front of her, catching his breath before launching into a speech. “Please, Emmy — you are making a terrible mistake in leaving England. I know you think that you have to do this, to allow your brother to have his perfect family without you holding him back, to allow Rosa to fall in love with a woman who can be a real mother to her — but you are wrong. You belong here, with your family. You belong here, with the people you love and are loved by. And most importantly, you belong here with me.”
Emmy felt the tears prick in her eyes before he had even begun to say his piece. She shook her head, standing up. “No, how can you possibly say all of this, Elias? I was horrible to you — I saw you at Sin and Dottie’s wedding, with that..” She stuttered, wiping her eyes quickly before continuing. “I saw you with that woman — surely it is she whom you should be with now?” Elias blinked in confusion, before giving a chuckle. He moved forward, coming right up to Emmy. Emmy readied herself to take a step backwards, but Elias raised his hands, cupping her face between them. “Oh, Emilia — you fool. My sweet, beautiful fool — surely you must know by now that that imagination of yours can get the best of you? That was my cousin Josephine, the one I told you about, do you remember?”
Emmy had remembered what he had told her about a recently widowed cousin of his, that he had invited to join him for several of the season’s events. Emmy had even remembered feeling sorry for the woman, had told Elias how admirable his kindness to her was. “So... so you have not forgotten about me, then?” Emmy asked, looking back up at the man she’d grown to love so deeply. Elias chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How could anyone ever forget about you, my love?” He whispered, the words spoken so softly even Emmy struggled to hear them. “I thought perhaps you never wished to see me again.” She admitted, watching him shake his head before his hands moved, one carefully enveloping hers. Emmy felt him begin to lead her from the ship, felt herself let him take her back down the ramp, onto the cobblestoned road of the port.
Once they’d stopped walking, she looked up at him. “So I am not to be returning back to America, after all?” Emmy asked, teasing him slightly. Her love had chuckled in response, shaking his head. “The only place you are going is to Mayfair to stay with your brother whilst I procure a marriage license.” Emmy pretended to be shocked by his words, before giving a giggle. “Is that the best proposal you’re really going to offer?” She mocked, her stray giggles suppressed as Elias Cardew pressed his lips to hers, making it clear the conversation was now very much closed.
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