Liberty Calling

Chapter 29

The front door clicked loudly as it was unlatched, and all had been so silent that I jumped at the sound. Lieutenant Alcock strode past the threshold, and our gazes met for a brief moment. My, he was a strange looking fellow. His skin was the palest I'd ever seen, paler still than that horrid cousin William's. Yet, the smattering of thick, orange freckles nearly made him appear as though he wore rouge as they did in France. Those hound-like eyes of his looked particularly dazed today.

"Miss Reed," he said politely with a nod of his head.

Before I could return the greeting, he'd taken off up the stairs and towards Elias's room. Even still, as the sound of his steps made the floorboards creak, my mind played tricks on me and half expected to hear my brother's muffled laughter coming from the room. A small fury flashed within my chest, and I closed my eyes. I know you wouldn't mind, I thought, but I've not been blessed with your charity, and I sometimes feel like throwing open the window and tossing all his things out into the streets below. It was funny, the longer time went on after Elias's death, the more I spoke inwardly with him. Or rather, to him. I'd never been terribly religious but...something within my heart whispered that as I spoke, he, in whatever form he was now in, listened. And that was comfort enough.

"He's a terribly solitary creature, isn't he?" Mother asked, her eyes raised to the ceiling.

I bit off the urge to snap at her once more for housing him in my brother's room and nodded. "I often forget he's even staying here."

"I must admit I miss the presence of Captain Maxwell. He was busy still, what with his higher ranking. But when he was here, he was respectful and present and gave us the courtesy of a smile and a few kind words. I often wish for it."

"As do I," I said before I had even realized I'd said it aloud. 

Mother's brow arched high, and I tried my hardest to avoid her eyes. It was funny how courting immediately changed the expectations of what could or could not be said of a person.

The door clicked once more, and Mother's face lit up, just briefly enough to notice. "Levi," she said softly, as though she'd been holding her breath. She placed a finger in the book she held and letting its pages shuffle and lay flat.

"Good morning, Mother." He walked across the room in long, confident strides to kiss her cheek, and my forehead. "Hello, Em." He pulled his hat from his head, and tucked it beneath his arm. The black ink stains that lined the ruffles of his left sleeve made me smile, for he never could look entirely put together. "I cannot stay for long," he said, "but I've come to fetch Emmeline. Charity is attempting to learn the pianoforte, but has had some troubles and is discouraged. I'm hoping Emmeline can help remedy that frustration."

Mother nodded and smiled softly in my direction. "I think it a wonderful idea. Be kind with her, Emmeline. It is far more difficult to learn an instrument at an adult age than as a child."

I rolled my eyes and stood. Either she didn't see, or chose to ignore it. "You know, Mother, I do tend to be a generally kind person."

She snorted and opened her book once more. "Very well, dear."

This time, I did not care enough even to roll my eyes and took the arm that Levi held out to me. We were in the street a moment later, and to my surprise, he pulled me in the opposite direction of his home.

"Are we not going to your house?" I asked. And the moment I saw his face, I knew all was not well.

"No, we are going to see Richard." His eyes were fixed straight ahead, but they seemed to be looking miles away.

I raised a brow and gripped his arm a little tighter. "At his home?"

"Yes."

"So something has gone wrong."