At one in the afternoon the next day, Emily was sat in her cabin, attempting to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of leaving England behind again.
Usually, she was ecstatic on board a ship, and couldn't wait to arrive at a new destination. However, this time, she had something to lose, something important that she was leaving behind.
Her farewells to Cassandra, Kit, Juliette and Allie had been awful, yet incredibly thought-provoking. Allie had been tearful, and reminded Emily of just how much she was going to miss the girl she had come to love as a younger sister.
When she'd held baby Juliette in her arms for the last time at the docks, where they had all come to see her off, that sadness had only grown. She loved the little girl, and knew she was just as much an aunt to her as Allie. She would miss Juliette's little giggles and her sweet blue eyes and the warmth in her chest when she held her close.
What she'd miss just as much, if not more, was Kit. Christopher Weston was an incredibly good friend to her, the sort she knew would always be by her side, even if he hadn't verbally reassured her of the fact. Kit was steadfast as a rock, while still being caring and considerate. He appreciated every last thing he had and Emily respected him for it.
When she'd hugged him goodbye just before heading for the gangway, he'd reminded her of the very thing he'd reminded her of at the ball. He'd whispered to her in her ear to choose what made her happy and chase after it. He also said that he hoped she was doing exactly that by leaving, which had stopped Emily short and made her think again.
Cassandra had only worsened this blow. Emily would miss her best friend more than anyone else in the world, for Cassandra had been there for her when she'd had no one. Cassie had been the one to reassure her that she was making the right choice, that she deserved to be happy and, for that, Emily would always be grateful to Cassandra.
When they'd embraced each other, tight as could be, and promised that they would see each other again, no matter what, Emily had confessed to Cassandra that she was not sure whether she could ever return to England to live there because she was far too scared.
"Be brave." Cassandra had ordered, smiling through the tears that threatened to spill as the others stepped back to give them as much privacy as they could."Be the fierce girl you were when you first left for America, the girl who would not take no for an answer and who fought tooth and nail for what she wanted. Because that is my Emily."
That had been all it took for Emily to cry. It wasn't awful, never-ending tears, but enough to show Cassandra that the message had sunk in.
"I'm sorry Nate couldn't come." Cassie had said, making Emily freeze. "He said that since you read his letter and still have not said anything about it, he couldn't come see you off. He wouldn't tell me what it was about, but I think I can tell. I think he's in love with you."
"Really?" Emily had asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Well, I don't suppose much can be done about it now."
"No, I think you love him too." Cassandra went on, ignoring Emily's previous statement entirely. "I definitely do not know why, but you really do love him too, don't you?"
"Your brother's lovely." Emily had defended him, smiling through the pain as she remembered all the wonderful things he'd done for her and all he'd said to her in the past that had made her day brighter. "But I'm afraid you'll soon have Mary for a sister-in-law."
"Nate would die before he married Mary." Cassandra had scoffed, rolling her eyes at Emily. "And, if my brother had such poor taste, I would kill him myself."
A few hugs and endless promises later, Emily had gotten onto the ship and was given her cabin. It was lovely and plush, but the decor reminded her of Somerhall which then reminded her of Nate. Everything somehow led back to him.
Cassandra's words were now playing through her mind again and again, and giving Emily more false hope. It was pure idiocy to believe that she could be right, especially after everything had been all but confirmed by both Nate and Mary, but hope had still taken over against all rationality, as it tended to do.
With a sigh, she decided to do the one thing she'd told herself earlier that she would not do. She decided to read the letter.
She flung open the trunk that lay at the foot of the bed and rummaged through it, tossing all the clothes and things that came in the way to the side until her hand found it. When she pulled it out, she found that it was a little worse for wear but was more than likely to still be legible. Hopefully, what she saw inside would be something she would like.
Emily gazed at it for a long time before finally choosing to open the flap of the envelope and pull the paper out. It took all the strength she had to unfold the letter and read it, her hands shaking all the while.
Dearest Em,
I don't know if you're ever going to read this, but I hope you do. This is the explanation that you deserve, the explanation that I did not give to you last night as I should have.
I have been in my study all morning, trying to perfect this letter, but I have not been able to come close. What is in your hands right now is a sixth draft, and will likely end up in the wastepaper basket along with the previous five. If it doesn't, then I am glad I have finally been able to perfect it.
I'd like to start off this letter by making one single thing very clearâ I love you, and only you.
There's one more thing that I'd very much like to clarify and that is that nothing happened between Mary and I last night. Nothing at all. I would never betray you, or us like that. I love you far too much to even think of laying with another woman, especially one so off-putting and awful as Mary. Even though you did not accept my offer, I am not petty enough to do anything with Mary, someone you so clearly abhor.
What you saw last night was entire a misunderstanding. I had been getting dressed for bed, which had led to my half-clothed state. It was then that there was a knock on the door to my chamber and, before I could even answer, Mary walked in, still wearing her dressing gown.
Thinking something was wrong, I asked her if anything had happened, for she looked to be in a very dishevelled state. She then proceeded to tell me that she had very strong feelings for me, feelings that she believed I reciprocated. I know exactly what she is like, and I know that all she wants is to be Duchess. She didn't succeed in fooling me for even one moment.
First, I asked her to leave, but she refused to do so, despite my asking her again. That was when I told her of you, that there is another that I love. Things got worse then, for she took off her robe at that, leaving her in the state of undress that you saw her in. She told me that she would make me forget this other woman, and still I refused.
It was then that you walked in and saw that terrible scene. I can't even imagine what you would've gone through at the sight of that, in the same way that I cannot imagine what I would feel if I saw you in that exact same situation with another man. The first thing I felt was shock, and then disgust. Then, I felt angry with myself for not being able to get Mary out of there quicker. Seeing that sadness, that heartbreak, enter your eyes destroyed me for I never want to see you in pain, least of all pain that I am the cause of.
It was because of these feelings that I couldn't explain the situation. I tried to frame the words and I tried to get them out, but I found that I simply could not. When I called after you, I thought that I'd finally found the strength to explain everything to you, but I still couldn't. The moment you left, I made sure Mary left. All night, I wondered what I could say to you in the morning. It was then that the idea of a letter came to me, for a letter would all me to write the perfect words, which my simply speaking would not permit.
I'm a fool, Em, and a daft one. I should have made it clear to you the second you walked in, but I didn't, even though you gave me ample time to to tell you everything. You gave me two chances and, yet, I must rely on a third chance, the chance that you might take pity on me and read this letter that I'm frantically writing in the hopes of bringing you back to my side, because I think that's exactly where you and I belongâ beside each other.
I love you Emily Carter, and I'm rather sure that I've loved you for over two years. I love you because you're the only one who will debate politics with me at dinner and tell me that I am an idiot who doesn't read between the lines when I read the paper. I love you because you hold my hand and pull me through the darkness whenever I need it. I love you because you smile at me even when I make you angry. I love you because there's a fire in your spirit that no one can imitate, try as they might. I love you because you're you, Emily Carter, and you won't ever let anybody change that.
I suppose what I am trying to say is that I hope you believe me, that I hope you love me as I love you, that I hope you choose to even glance at this letter when you have every reason to toss it into the fireplace.
If you do read it and you do decide to come to me, then I promise you that I will love you with all the beats left in my heart.
Forever yours,
Nate
Emily's heart wouldn't stop hammering in her chest as she read what Nate had written. It was the loveliest, most beautiful letter she'd ever received, and had even made her teary somewhere in the middle. She chose to believe him. Nate loved her, he really did love her. He wasn't going to marry Mary, that was all just rubbish that Mary had made up like the terrible person she was.
The skies were beginning to look perfect and clear again, but then she recalled what he'd asked of her and wondered whether she could brave the storm that would soon be dawning.
He asked her to trust him again. He asked her to come back to him again. She'd trusted him before and, although he'd proved to her that she could, what had happened had only shown her the possibilities of what could happen when you trusted someone. Her heart would have to be put back into that precarious position, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to survive that.
Maybe she was a coward, but she was unsure again. She weighed both her options carefully, and thought for what felt like an eternity before she placed the letter back in the trunk and closed it.
She'd made her decision.