Chapter 3 Let Me Reintroduce Myself

"Cold night is it?" said the man, not moving from where he sat.

"I suppose so," replied Emily unsure and she was greeted with a snort.

The man roused from his chair stood up and closed the window. As the man approached her Emily's heart began to spike out with anxiety, she knew nothing of the stranger and so she started to sweat a cold sweat.

"Are you the new governess?" asked the man who stepped out of the darkness and into the light from the hearth. "Emily? Emily Blakewell?" he was tall, athletic from what she could tell from underneath the suit and tails he wore, and had a full set of dark hair that was combed to the back of his head. There were streaks of grey in his dark hair but there was not a single wrinkle in his masculine physiognomy.

"That's me." she squeaked in reply.

"I won't ask you about the children if that's what you were thinking." He said as he inched closer to her. "I know you've probably been asked a lot about them, Douglas and Dolores love it when you compliment them on how they raised their children."

"Children are a reflection of their parents after all," she said without a thought.

"Is that something you learned at school or was that an observation?" asked the man, his deep voice educated with a hint of a militaristic tone.

"An observation."

The man sat on the couch next to her, there was no need for formalities with him and she could tell.

"What is your name sir?" asked Emily, curious about her newfound companion.

"Forgive me," said the man in a sincere manner and held out his hand, "I am Nicholas Sutcliffe, I'm one of the neighbors."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sutcliffe." Emily took his offered hand and shook it with a half-smile, still unsure of what to make of her new companion.

"And a pleasure to meet you Ms. Blakewell." he smiled enigmatically. "You don't remember me do you?"

"I'm sorry, have we met before?" Emily asked, searching her memories for any signs of a Nicholas Sutcliffe in them. "It's you." she said lowly.

"In the flesh," replied he with a smile. "What do you think of the party so far?"

"Exhausting but it was never in my honor, just something Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer came up with," said Emily.

There was something about her companion that threatened and comforted her at the same time, as though she could run away from his eyes the color of oceans or spill out her innermost secrets at any time. There was no mistaking her finding him quite attractive in the light but this was the shallow part of her talking and she put away the thought immediately.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer have been very kind to me, I don't know why I said what I just did," she said looking at the fire before them while her companion studied her features.

"It's a minor concern Ms. Blakewell, the Mortimers shan't make you rue the day."

"Why aren't you at the party Mr. Sutcliffe?" asked Emily turning to greet his face.

"Interacting with too many people exhausts me."

"I am the same," replied Emily, smiling to herself cutting off her eye contact with Sutcliffe.

There was a mutual understanding of things that passed over them but neither one wanted to touch upon it. Of course, it was all about what was left unsaid that mattered but it was still only the beginning.

The door opened and in came Mrs. Mortimer looking like she was about to burst into tears.

"There you are Emily, everyone's been looking for you," said she who went over to the couch as if to capture the governess and drag her back to the party. "I see you've met Nicholas." Emily did not want to make it awkward so she stood up from where she sat to save Dolores time.

"I was just having a quaint conversation with your new governess Mrs. Mortimer." said the man who rose up from the couch after Emily stood up.

"Perhaps it's best if you both come with me," she said, trying to ease the mood, "we'll toast to you my dear." added the hostess to her new governess who looked visibly shy at the thought.

Sutcliffe tidied himself up, straightening the creases of his coat and tails, and turned to Emily who lightly walked over to the door that was left open since Mrs. Mortimer entered. While Mrs. Mortimer, held tightly onto Emily's arm as if she was giving her a warning as to her newfound companion. For someone often delicately handled like a piece of glass by her own husband, the hostess' grip showed Emily that she was not someone to be trifled with and so she went along with the mistress of the house to fetch some drinks hoping that the night would end sooner.

The music had been playing continuously for much of the night and it was no different when they arrived at Mrs. Mortimer's intended destination which was at the foot of the stairs. A waiter passed by and the three each took glasses of champagne for the toast; Emily's only intention was to follow her employer's lead while Sutcliffe was all smiles and charm as they passed by the other guests. Emily now at the steps of the stairs could see the other half of her employer, making his way to them in the crowded sea of guests, and got himself a glass to drink during the toast and joined his wife once he was able to get past the crowd now facing them.

Emily, with the attention on her, felt anxious at the pairs of eyes turned towards her they were all well dressed and there were some judgmental eyes that likely came from the way she had decided to dress for the occasion. She does wonder if it was the Mortimers' plan to embarrass her in front of everyone by toasting her, almost in a farcical manner being born into money as she was one could never tell, or was it a tone-deafness that came with the privileges of being wealthy? She could accept that they were good people but their decisions were not so.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said as she started clinking the glass with a piece of cutlery, "this is our new governess Ms. Emily Blakewell." she added as she raised her glass. "Now let's all raise a toast to Emily." the guest followed suit and raised their glasses in her honor.

"To Emily!" the guests said in unison and drank their champagne, Emily followed Mrs. Mortimer's lead and drank her glass as well but not without showing her face of disgust at the taste of the drink.

She noticed Sutcliffe approaching her with his empty glass, when a waiter passed by he placed the glass onto the tray as smoothly as anyone else she'd seen. He was tall as she had observed earlier and slightly tanned, when he reached her side of the hall she noticed a small smile on his lips.

She dared not say a word at first and felt like avoiding him for the rest of the night, he was only a man who she conversed with for a few minutes, and besides, what could they possibly have in common outside of having an affinity for silence after being exhausted while interacting with people for most of the night.

"Enjoying yourself Ms. Blakewell?" asked, once again in a militaristic tone.

"If this is what you call enjoying, then yes," she said, matter-of-factly and Sutcliffe chuckled.

Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer left Emily and Sutcliffe to their own devices and made their way to the sea of guests that awaited their presence. Of course, there was dancing but for all purposes, the younger lady and gentleman did not join in on the fun.

"I'm supposed to be watching over the children," Emily said to her companion. "I have to go and find them, see if they're alright."

"I'll come with you," he replied and walked with her in a slow step for her steps were shorter than his and he attuned himself to her movements.

It wasn't until they arrived on the other side of the hall that Emily began to notice the pairs of eyes observing them, and it made her flush red, noticing this Sutcliffe took her hand and guided her to the place where he thought the children could be found. When they arrived at the destination, which was the garden porch did Emily and Sutcliffe find the children sitting asleep on the lawn chairs?

"I should wake them up," said Emily in a whisper.

When the children had awoken, they brushed their eyes and stretched their lungs in a yawn only to open their eyes to Emily's face and Sutcliffe's figure hovering over the three of them.

"It's chilly out here," began Emily as she took each of them by the hand and added, "come on, let's go inside for shelter."

Sutcliffe paved the way for them to enter the door and closed it behind them once the four of them were safe from the cold. Emily could not send the children up to bed yet for there was a dance happening in the hall that she needed to pass through to get to the stairs. Instead, she and Sutcliffe made their way back to the parlor once again where another fire was started.

"It's you and me again," said Emily when she detected a delight in her voice which she hoped Sutcliffe did not notice.

He sat on the armchair next to the couch where the children had lay, they were very tired and the clock hanging on the side of the fireplace indicated that it was half an hour past ten in the evening. A time when no child should not be up.

"This night could have gone worse had it not been for your company Mr. Sutcliffe." she said with confidence in her voice.

"It's been my pleasure Ms. Blakewell." said Sutcliffe who smiled a small smile, a twinkle in his eye showed even in the firelight.

When the dance ended, she once again woke up the children with Sutcliffe in tow, the guests were busy entertaining themselves with small talk that they barely noticed as they guided the children up the steps. They said their goodnights to Emily and plopped onto their beds and continued their sleep as she exited their bedroom.

Once down the stairs again, she found Mrs. Mortimer having drunk more than she could handle. The hostess had to be handled by several guests as well as Mr. Mortimer to keep herself from getting her hands on another glass of champagne. She fought off her husband and nearly slipped but caught herself before the fall. She did not mind this at all, she never wanted to be the center of attention so she kept herself away from the scene that her employer starred in.

She and Sutcliffe spent most of the night together yet also noticed that the guests had been eyeing them carefully as if they could see trouble in the friendship that had started between them. For the most part, Sutcliffe listened to what she had to say and she entertained him with her hopeful nature.

"Did you ever see yourself as a governess?" He asked, his electric blue eyes contacting her green ones but she immediately looked down at her feet.

"No," replied she, "I wanted to be a novelist." there was a shyness in her voice as if she were embarrassed about it.

"I can definitely see you like one," he replied with an assuredness in his voice.

"And what do you do Mr. Sutcliffe?" asked Emily with a quiet disposition.

"I was a captain in the Navy," he said with a hint of longing. "Now I do business here and there, mainly grain." He was looking into the fire when he said this and then turned to her. "They say everything grows here and so here I found myself a home in Hawthorne Heights."

"Is it yours?"

"It will be once the old man dies," he replied, "the old man is Mr. Oliver Hawthorne he'd granted me the rights to run the Heights if I could prove to him that my business can pay for it and it will at some point."

"Sounds exciting," she commented with a smile.

The night took a surprising turn with her newfound kindred spirit; Sutcliffe, even though they were very different people. There was a hint in his manner that knew he was attractive in terms of his physiognomy and carried himself that way too while she was deathly conscious of the plain looks that made her shy away from herself and resorted to the position of that of an observer.

As the night went on the guests started disappearing for home one by one, the two companions could hear the carriages of each guest arriving on the front porch and so Sutcliffe rose up from where he sat next to her.

"It's time for me to leave, I've some business to attend to on the morrow if you'll forgive me," said Sutcliffe as he straightened himself, "will you see me to the door outside?"

She agreed for it was a harmless request and they both made their way for the entrance where Sutcliffe collected his things; a coat and hat both of which he put on wasting no time to meet the cold summer night.

Outside of the porch, Emily could visibly see carriages of all sizes and shapes some were ancient in that they could break in half anytime soon as if they were a pumpkin, and others were decorated in silver and gold, and they were authentic or not it didn't matter for their designs were elegant. It wasn't until she turned to the stables that she saw the most beautiful horse being led outside; a blue roan draft horse from its size and color.

"Do you like horses Ms. Blakewell?" asked he, turning to her with a smile.

"I do though I've never seen one as beautiful," she answered in awe while gesturing if she may pet the horse.

"Go ahead," said Sutcliffe, "His name's Gil-galad."

After Emily patted the animal, Sutcliffe gathered his strength and pulled himself up to the back of the horse.

"I guess this is goodbye for now Ms. Blakewell." said the man and not waiting for her to reply he galloped on Gil-galad outside the Mortimer property and disappeared into the night.

"Goodbye Mr. Sutcliffe," said Emily to herself, careful that no one else would hear her, "for now."