Hawthorne Heights

When Emily Blakewell announced to her family the news of becoming a governess, she did not suspect that they would react the way they did. Angry, disappointed, and regretful that they had spent so much time and money on her education. Her younger sister Elizabeth had always been the star pupil and the model child so it surprised Emily that her family had not known better about what the future held for her. Was she trying to shift the blame onto her parents? It did not sound like so to her but she had felt that she was not to blame for everything which in her opinion was fair enough.

She only wished she had known better than to break the news to her parents, she was in her late twenties, an adult, why did she need the approval of her parents to go out into the world and live her life? Perhaps it was because she never had their approval, nor had she ever gone out into the world on her own, and she had always relied on her parents both in living and financial terms. Emily remembered her mother grabbing her arm, pleading with her not to do this for it would shame them to think that a member of their well-to-do family would take on a job such as a governess. Mother seems to have not known me after all these years, she thought, I was never the child she thought I was. Her mother, of course, was the educator in the family and Emily remembered all those strenuous afternoons trying to get her to pronounce Wednesday during her early years.

A bump in the road interrupted her thoughts. That was then, and this is now, she thought. Discouraged by her family to take on the job, Emily immediately called for a carriage and paid the coachman diligently to get herself to Mortimer House. She had exchanged letters with the head of the household, Mr. Douglas Mortimer who had sent her an amount of money to pay for her travel expenses and a letter telling her that the sooner she went on her way to the Valley, the better. The letter made Emily wonder what he had meant, surely a wealthy family who could afford to live in Middleton Valley had no such trouble in finding a governess? It was in the local newspaper, The Dark Harbor Chronicle where she found his advertisement, and yet she had doubts about herself. The pang of her parents' words after all those years growing up rang in her ears. She was never the smart one despite having sold a few stories here and there to the local newspapers, fun to write and earn money at the same time but not viable as a full-time job.

The carriage came to a full stop, but not before bumping onto a large rock in the road that once again interrupted her thoughts. Emily could hear a horse neighing outside and once she stuck her head outside the fogged pathway resembling a road, she could see the shape of a man smoothly getting down from his horse and calming it down. Once the horse calmed down, the figure of the man walked over in her direction. Her heart thumped, she was never used to talking to strangers, only when she was given the time to prepare was she at ease and this was not one of these times. She straightened herself as to whatever the stranger was about to say and fixed her hair.

"Miss," said the man, his face now clearer than ever was strong with an aquiline nose though not bearing any resemblance to anyone of wealth or upbringing, "your driver nearly knocked me off my horse."

"The fog is to blame Mr.---"

"Sutcliffe, Nicholas Sutcliffe," he replied, introducing himself and offering his hand for her to shake, "and you are?"

"Emily...Blakewell." she replied, taking his hand and shaking it, his arm strong and firm.

"I suggest you not travel in the fog anymore after this, you could get yourself killed." He said, warning her off.

"I suggest you do the same Mr. Sutcliffe, then we'll call it even."

He only nodded stiffly, returned to his horse, and tipped his hat to her.

Sutcliffe had disappeared into the fog, never to be seen again or so she hoped. The coachman had informed her that the Mortimer House was near and that she need not worry about bumping into other strangers along the way. Emily sighed in relief and hoped that that was the case. She could see from where she sat the outline of the house that she was to govern two children. Emily had never experienced working with children before, but she was good with them and was always a reliable babysitter to her sister Elizabeth's children. It was odd that the Mortimers had immediately hired her without an interview nor any need for references, it was then when her doubts about herself washed over her and that the weight of responsibility would be too much to bear in the coming months or even years of rearing the children in their studies. Too late now, she thought. My doubts be damned, I can never go back home without any money, and worse the family would have to suffer the shame. These were the thoughts that raced in her mind but there was also adventure bursting inside her like the thought of being away from her family and doing things on her own without being constantly watched was freeing.

The sun was down by the time the carriage reached Mortimer House, the warmth that once covered the valley was now replaced with a cool breeze. She imagined that the mornings were covered in dewdrops and a cool wind to accompany the early hours.

"Here we are Miss," said the coachman as we went down from his seat and opened the carriage door for her, "Mortimer House."

"Thank you."

Once she was out, she studied the architecture of the manor, it wasn't so much as lavish or glamorous as a mansion as she had expected but it looked foreboding; unpainted, just cold hard rock that was sculpted to form a family home. Her luggage beside her she took a deep breath and approached the porch of the manor and knocked using the doorknocker shaped like that of a raccoon.

The door was unlocked on the other side with a click and several others, when the door finally opened there stood an elderly woman before her with her hair parted sideways and tied in a neat bun. She was a thin woman, her work likely keeping her in the figure that she's in and the late-night visitor wonders if that was also her fate.

"Good evening," she said making eye contact with the older woman, "I'm the new governess madam."

"Oh, I see!" the older woman said in delight. "Come in, come in."

Entering the large house, she could not help but notice how most of the inside was lit with candles, curious she studied the interior of the house when the older woman noticed.

"Oh, it's nothing, they like it this way rather than turning on the lights," she said as if it was like a chore, especially for her. "It's a chore to do but I'm getting paid."

"When do I get to meet the family?" asked the younger woman.

"They're just getting ready for supper and so should you, now come on."

The elderly woman guided her to the stairs and into the second room on the left of a corridor. This was going to be her room, she thought as she placed her luggage down on the floor. It was small as expected and it was tidy enough for at least another week.

"Why don't you get ready and I'll meet you in the dining hall so you can meet the family?"

"Thank you ummm..."

"Cecille"

"Thank you Cecille, I'm Emily Blakewell." she offered her hand for a handshake and Cecille took it and shook it.

"I'll see you downstairs."

With the door closed, she turned the lock and immediately peeled off her dress and put on a fresh one. Tidying her new dress, she turned to face the mirror and checked to see if she needed to redo her hair but what she saw instead were the semi-visible circles around her eyes and she could feel and hear a pounding on her chest. Emily never thought of it before, at least not for a long time and she remember she was no longer eighteen, she was a decade older.

The dining hall was surrounded by candlelit fires and it was like no other she had ever seen before. The table was empty but she decided to wait for the family than impose on them just as a governess should. Emily had been tired as to how this was the way things were but that was as it was for the moment.

She decided to wait for the family at the steps of the stairs, and in no time, they appeared as if they were hovering above her. The man was middle-aged with short neat hair and a beard the color of pepper, the woman looked ten years younger but knew that she was aging as she covered her neck with a scarf and then there were the children; both wearing a sailor's outfit as if they were heading to the docks to leave the mainland.

She noticed how quiet the house had become as the family walked down the stairs and into the dining hall. The man held the woman's hand as if she were a piece of decorative glass that would shatter if he were to let go while the children; both around eleven or twelve slowly made their way to their seats opposite each other. The man stopped beside her and began;

"You must be the new governess, forgive us for our tardiness," he said with a twinkle in his eye, he had such kind eyes. "I'm Douglas Mortimer and this is my wife---"

"Dolores, pleased to meet you---" she held out a hand to the younger woman.

"Emily, Emily Blakewell." she took the woman's hand and shook it.

"Charmed," said Mrs. Mortimer with a smile though Emily knew not if it was sincere. "And these are our children; John and Mildred."

They were one charming family, very neat and tidy which seems to be an obsession of the woman of the house which she noticed once they started feasting on dinner. There was mushroom soup, grilled steak, peas, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and trout. As simple as dinner was, Emily was pleasantly surprised not just with the family but the house itself. They weren't excessive like most of the wealthy people she had known for they weren't as flashy though they did make quite an entrance earlier.

"Darling, why don't we throw a party?" asked Dolores, cutting her steak delicately as if she didn't want to ruin the plate.

"Well it's been so long since we've had one and..." he paused, clearing his throat, "just in time for Emily's first party, love?" asked Douglas looking up at his wife.

"We can make the excuse of celebrating the arrival of our new governess," suggested Dolores and Douglas shoots her a smile. "You wouldn't mind a party would you Emily?"

"I've never been to one but I think I'll leave it to you and Mr. Mortimer to decide," answered Emily quietly.

"My dear girl, you've never been?" asked her new employer, "very well then, I think we've come to a decision."

The party was set to take place in seven days, a Friday which was decided as it was the start of the weekend and the party can go on all night. It was the same week when she found out that Douglas and Dolores Mortimer were devout Followers of the Son, the religious weren't what she would call her people but the Mortimers were delightful and had their own eccentricities. That same night after dinner, they blew out the candles in the dining hall with the family and spent the entire evening with them in the living room and mainly spent her time reading the newspaper.

Finally, when the clock struck ten, Douglas rose up from his seat and straightened himself as he offered his wife his hand, taking it, she called the children who were playing with their toys on the carpeted floor.

"Come along children, it's time for bed," she said and they obeyed her, catching up with their parents at the foot of the steps.

"Good night Miss Emily." said the children, surprising her and touched that they would bid her goodbye after only having known her for a few hours. In return she bid them farewell, waving in their direction, and waited for them to disappear from sight before she made her way up the stairs to her own room.

The day was young but having changed into her governess' clothes she decided to get a cup of coffee to start her day only to be greeted by Cecille in the kitchen. Cecille's eyes were endowed with black circles around them and her hair was not as kempt as it had been the night before but Emily kept her thoughts to herself lest Cecille began to notice.

"Good morning." she greeted the older woman. "I'm just going to get a cup of coffee to start the day," Emily added.

"Good morning." she was greeted in reply. "You can find your cup of coffee in the cupboard up there," said Cecille.

"Thank you."

The smell of ground coffee was aromatic, it had not stung her sense of smell but she felt a jolt of life brought into her by it. Afterward, she made her way to the study hall where she was to teach the children their studies albeit a tad too early for children to be up; it was only seven in the morning and the Mortimer children don't get up until eight, recalled Emily what Cecille had told her of the children's daily schedule but she was in no hurry at all.

Tired, she did not feel like it at all for she had had eight hours of sleep the previous night as she did every night. It had become a routine for her, to get in bed by ten and rise by six of course she would like to get more work done had the family not remained down the stairs until ten in the evening. Emily wanted to compose a letter addressed to her sister ever since she'd promised to write to her when she arrived in her new lodgings at the Mortimer House, she just never found the time to write yet.

During the day she spent most of her time with the children, rearing them in their studies but as the day of the party came closer she found herself daydreaming as to what it would be like. She already knew her responsibilities which were the children, to take them to bed by ten as usual but what of the rest of the party? She knew by now that the Mortimers' friends and neighbors were invited and so she was curious as to who would be there. What a story, a new governess getting a welcome to the household surrounded by people she knew nothing about.

"Are you thinking about the party?" asked John who brought her back to reality.

"Supposing I am," replied Emily, sighing, "why do you ask?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Out with it John," said Emily trying to sound stern but her voice was far more curious.

"I suppose you need to look good at a party," started John, scribbling down on his notes, "I don't suppose you have a gown with you?"

"The party isn't really for me, is it? It's just an excuse for your parents to have one after such a long time," replied Emily, dodging the question.

"You won't really mind the party then, you'll be stuck with us," said Mildred looking up from her notes.

"You don't have to worry about me," she said, "I can take care of myself."

The clock struck three and went off in a continuous ringing that got the children on their feet. Studies were over at three and followed by tea and biscuits at four with their parents. Usually, after their studies, the children would play in the garden with the swings, seesaw, and the slide which was surprising to her at first since they were both twelve years old which she thought was old enough to stop playing, and it showed because they had grown larger than the seats of both the swings and the seesaw.

"How old are you Miss Emily?" asked Mildred as she took Emily's hand in hers.

"I'm twenty-eight."

"Is that old?" asked Mildred innocently.

"I wouldn't know Mildred," said Emily with a smile, "I suppose you aren't old until you feel like it."

Cecille appeared on the garden porch with a tray with tea and biscuits and set them down on the table where Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer were going to show up at any time now. Cecille went back into the house and within a few moments appeared again with five teacups. Emily decided to walk up next to her but upon seeing Emily, Cecille immediately went for the door.

Douglas and Dolores appeared before her just as she went up the steps of the garden porch, they were in good spirits and who was she ruin it for them?

"John! Mildred!" called the father, "come hither and have some tea and biscuits."

The children did as they were told and walked over to the porch.

It had been like this ever since she got here as if it had been a ritual of theirs, Mr. Mortimer would call on the children and they would obey him as if he were their master and not their father but Emily forced the thought out of her mind, it was just another one of her queer thoughts and she'd had them for quite some time now but she was sure it wouldn't stick out in the future this particular thought.

"What do you think of the children, Emily?" asked Dolores just after she took a sip of her tea.

"Well I'm quite fond of them," started Emily in reply, "we've been getting to know each other these past few days."

"They seem very fond of you too," said Mr. Mortimer as he poured Emily a cup of tea.

"Just doing my job sir."

Douglas Mortimer only smiled at her reply as he watched the children sit on the steps of the porch stairs.

Friday came, and there was much commotion in the Mortimer household. There were tables. and chairs all set up for the evening party and Emily caught the children observing other members of the household preparing for it. The color motif was purple and gold, regal and fancy though Emily did not know what she expected when it came to well-off families such as the Mortimers. There were no candles to be found in the house, it seems as if the husband and wife opted to use the lights instead which was less likely to cause a fire.

Her first week with the family had been exciting as well as curious, the former because of how well she surprisingly got along with the children, and the latter because of how formal the Mortimer parents had been with each other. It made her wonder if there was something wrong with the marriage or if they were like the couples of their day, betrothed without getting to know each other, and once married they settled into an agreement with how they were to behave around the other. A strange thought for someone like she who was getting older and having an opinion on how a married couple like the Mortimers behaved but strange a thought as it was, this party wasn't going to be any different.

The sun had begun to set, like a mother calling to her children the light had dimmed but slowly as if the family had made a pact with the sun to go down at that exact time. It was to be a party after all and judging from what was prepared for the occasion the entire day there was no room for unplanned events that could arise if there had been anything wrong with it. Of course, it was Mrs. Mortimer who was in charge of planning the event from the decorations to the food preparations all while Mr. Mortimer remained in his study, he was a doctor you see but not a medical doctor, he was a university professor and since the school was out for the summer there was naught to do other than pace around in his office.

The band had already started playing music while there was not a guest in sight, a good time to practice I suppose, thought Emily who watched over the children as they played hide and seek she doubted they'd be playing at all when the night was over, they were rambunctious children who had the energy like that of raccoons but they were dears from having the chance to know them. She sat on the couch, continually watching them as they played when three knocks on the door came. She got up to answer it.

Opening the door, she saw two elderly figures well-dressed for the occasion. The man was bald on the top of his head and made no attempt to cover it while the woman was homely and her face was lined with wrinkles, both of them were yet made no effort to cover them either.

"We're here for the party." said the woman.

"Oh do come in."

Emily opened the door for them and they promptly entered the household.

"You must be Emily the new governess." said the woman brightly as she took off her coat.

"That's me alright." Emily smiled a toothy smile when she heard her name mentioned.

"How do you find the children?" asked the man this time around. "Well, I hope?"

Emily nodded before saying,

"They're little darlings."

"Joseph, Abigail!" a voice above them said, three heads turned to the stairs, and there stood their host and hostess. "Welcome to the party!"

The couple then went down the stairs with Mr. Mortimer holding Mrs. Mortimer's hand as if she were made out of glass, something she noticed whenever they were in each other's company. When they touched down at the foot of the steps the man smiled while the woman held out her hand for the elderly couple to shake.

"Dolores, you look wonderful as always." said the woman named Abigail.

"I see you've met our Emily," said Mr. Mortimer who then turned to face her. "Emily, this is Mr. and Mrs. Baudelaire our neighbors."

Emily looked puzzled after the introduction and the host noticed but said not a word.

As more and more guests started arriving, Emily hid among the crowd but was careful enough not to lose sight of John and Mildred. She was easily recognizable due to the simple dress she wore in dark colors and her hair combed and fixed in a bun that exposed her entire face. She wore some perfume but not so much that people would begin to notice, it was a mixture of citrus and other fruits that hinted at the innocence in the governess' nature.

She of course flew to and fro wherever the children went and it almost made her dizzy trying to entertain guests as well as look after her charge. Emily thought of herself as a multi-tasker but tonight had been a challenge, she also prided herself on never having been drunk but tonight was different, and she had felt a warmth inside her that could be mistaken for butterflies in her stomach.

"John, Mildred can you please stay still in one place?" the governess asked her charge not with strictness but with slight exasperation.

"Alright, Miss Emily," they replied in unison.

"Thank you."

The evening went on smoothly after that but she made her observations about the party. From what she had gathered there were no other children around, and most of the guests were senior couples who decided to retire to the valley. She had not met anyone her age, a few of them discussed their investments in Dark Harbor, and others spoke of their gardens and their plans to redesign while the rest seem glad to just be out of their mansions. There was a queerness about the party thrown for her, the party itself did not make her feel welcome. Instead, it made her feel as though she was invading someone's space, someone's home, perhaps she should have been more firm in telling the Mortimers that the whole thing was unnecessary but it was too late.

There were other things that made the entire night feel like it was teetering onto something dark and twisted but she dismissed this immediately on her part as wishful thinking since her heart had longed for adventure, yet this was the adventure given to her; a party in her name. Even during the party, as the hours passed by, she felt that she was waiting to either wake up back in her family's apartment in Dark Harbor to be told that it had been an elaborate prank on her. Her doubts vanished once she had gotten a hold of a glass of champagne with John and Mildred in her sights. It was odd that while it had been a party in her honor, she was still on duty taking care of the children.

Emily took a sip of the champagne and nearly spat it out, the strong taste had been too much for her but she did not want to make a scene in front of all the visitors. She instead swallowed the champagne and acted as though nothing had happened.

Emily searched for a nearby room to stumble upon and rest for a while and she found that the parlor on the adjacent side of the living room was just what she was looking for. It had been empty when she first came to the house with not a soul in sight but it had been filled with shelves of books probably from Mr. Mortimer's research over the years.

Entering the room she immediately collapsed on the couch, there was no fire on the fireplace and so she decided to start one, gathering blocks of wood she found laying just next to the hearth and lighting a match for sufficient warmth she noticed a shadow in the room she'd never seen before. Turning to the window there she saw a silhouette of a man sitting down, his face covered in the shadows.

"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."