Liberty Calling

Chapter 15

The papers I held whispered quietly as I shuffled through them. Their corners were smeared with inky thumbprints and crumpled carelessly. It made me all the most ecstatic to return home, and transfer the music they held to fresh sheets. I'd already used all the paper Seth had brought me, and I nearly felt bad. It was not an inexpensive gift, and one which I doubted he could have easily afforded. And yet I knew that he would approve of the way I had used up his gift. He had said himself it was meant for composing, and heaven knows it had consumed all my focus the past week.

I tucked the pages into a leather portfolio, and placed it on the trunk that lay in front of my bed. We were leaving the next morning, and it was a bittersweet feeling. I knew how painfully I would miss Ada and the children when I was gone. And Aunt Mary. But I was so anxious to return to New York I could hardly bear it. It had become increasingly obvious to me that I did not belong in England. To say it was my homeland held no meaning at all now, for I was nothing like these people. And even the hills that surrounded me made me feel out of place. I wanted, more than anything, to return to the bustle of the city and the smell of the harbor. All my life I'd felt like I was above that massive island. That I was placed into a situation and location far beneath me. But when I was placed in a higher society, in the glistening halls of Cardington, I realized how wrong I was. I belonged with James's raucous laughter, and Richard's ink stained hands. I belonged with children, running through the streets, and the melody of merchant ship bells tolling in the distance. I belonged in the colonies, and my heart yearned for it as I'd never known before.

A small rap on my bedroom door grounded me from my dreams of New York, and I opened it haphazardly, expecting Levi or a maid.

"Seth!" I cried. I felt as I had the last time he'd returned home...like I wanted to run to him and throw my arms around his neck. Instead I stepped into the hall, closed the door behind me, and began to fidget with the silk ruffles on the stomacher of my gown.

"Hello Emmeline," he said, his eyes never leaving mine, and a soft smile rising on his lips.

"You left without saying goodbye," I said, surprised at the annoyance that was plain in my tone. I had been rather upset by his quick departure, and I did not realized how hurt I was until he stood before me again.

His eyes fell to his hands, which twisted his gloves absentmindedly. He so often did that, it was a wonder his gloves weren't worn out every other week. His smile disappeared at once, and he refused to meet my gaze again. For once, I was grateful for my lack of height, for I crouched down just a hair to force him to meet my eyes. His face was troubled, and I could see that thoughts raced through his mind like a stampede. "I am sorry," he said at last. His voice was soft. It so often was. He was soft, and it was so comforting. Being in his presence filled me with the strangest sense of hope. "Truly, Emmeline. I just...I had matters to attend to, and I had not expected to leave England so early. I had to finish what I promised to your father, and I knew I barely had enough time."

"I understand," I said, taking a step towards him. "I only wish you had waited a few hours to tell me."

A smile played at the corner of his mouth. "If ever again I am to leave you, I will not do so without saying goodbye."

My heart fluttered ever so softly. I never did want him to leave me. Not anymore. Not when he became increasingly more important to me.

He glanced around his shoulder then, and lowered his voice. "Will you help me with something?"

I scowled, confused, but determined. "Of course."

"I do not wish to create an uncomfortable situation for you but...it is a rather private request."