A/N: Thanks as always to my betas thegladelf and mryddinwilt. Please check out captainswanandclintasha's gorgeous picset for chapters 13 and 14 on tumblr. Lots of drama in this chapter, but maybe not exactly the kind you're expecting...

Emma was alone at the cottage one morning, shuffling through her collection of sheet music to see what she was in the mood to play. Mary Margaret and Ingrid had gone to the neighboring town of Glowerhaven with Mrs. Lucas for wedding-purchases and were not expected back until the evening. The clip-clop of approaching hoofbeats and wheels announced the arrival of a carriage. Emma wondered who had come to call and scrambled to sit upright. A bustle of quick footsteps and voices filtered through the closed door. The next moment, the door was thrown open and Ashley entered the room, a gentleman partly hidden by her figure and the half-closed door.

In a flustered voice, Ashley announced the visitor as he stepped into the light. "Mr. Cassidy to see you, ma'am."

Neal Cassidy stepped into the room.

For an instant, Emma could hardly breathe.

"Miss Emma," said Neal, and bowed.

Expelling a sharp breath, Emma stood up, eyes blazing. "You have come at a most inopportune time, Mr. Cassidy. My cousin is not at home to receive callers."

"I did not come to see Miss White." Neal waved his hand casually. "I came to speak to you."

"Then, it is unfortunate, sir. Because I have nothing to say to you." Turning to Ashley, who was still standing in the room, looking scared but determined not to leave the young mistress alone with the man who had broken her heart, Emma said, "Ashley, please show Mr. Cassidy to the door."

"Please, Emma…" said Neal.

Ashley gasped.

"Pray do not address me with such informality, sir," Emma said, stiffly.

Neal passed a hand over his forehead. "I beg your pardon, Miss Emma. My lapse in manners is solely occasioned by my weariness. I left London yesterday morning, and I've been traveling almost without stop since then."

Emma was amazed. It was a journey of nearly three hundred miles, and would normally take at least two full days to complete.

"I entreat you, Miss Emma. Please spare me a half-hour—nay—fifteen minutes of your time."

Emma hesitated, noting the bags under his eyes and the slightly wrinkled state of his clothes that supported his claim. Despite everything, she felt some curiosity as to what he would say. Turning to Ashley, Emma dismissed her with a reassuring nod.

"Alright, but, pray be quick," said Emma, and sat back down at the pianoforte. She preferred having a physical barrier between herself and Neal. As she took in his appearance, she saw that his ensemble had undergone a marked improvement. His suit was more elegantly cut than formerly and he carried a gold-tipped cane.

Neal bowed once more, and took a seat, resting the cane against the arm of the sofa. But instead of speaking, he glanced at the sheets of music spread out on top of the pianoforte, and gave a crooked smile. "You're always at the instrument, aren't you?"

"What?"

"The pianoforte." Neal nodded at it.

Emma pressed her lips. "I'm still waiting to hear why you have come."

"I know you must think me a selfish monster," Neal began, his expression turning serious. "I came to see if I could explain myself—beg your forgiveness—urge something to make you think less ill of me."

Emma was skeptical. "You came all the way from London for this?"

"You cannot understand how tormented I've been in last eight months, knowing how poorly you must think of me. My peace of mind has been entirely shot." Neal pressed down on his temples with his fingers.

Emma bristled. "Mr. Cassidy, I doubt anything you have felt compares to the months of silence, avoidance, and unanswered questions I endured."

"I'm ready to answer them now. Even if it's bound to sink me further in your opinion, I promise to truthfully answer any question you put to me."

Emma glared at him, her cheeks flushing. She had half a mind to throw him out and tell him that it was too late. However, she knew that she would regret not taking the opportunity to get some answers from him. Whether he would reply truthfully or not was another question, but she had to try. She asked the one question uppermost in her mind when it came to Neal. "Did you form a connection with Wendy Jones knowing she was the niece of Captain Jones? Was this some repugnant scheme to take revenge on him for inheriting Misthaven Abbey?"

"So, you do know about her," Neal said softly, falling back in his seat with a thump.

"Oh, yes. I do." Emma gave a contemptuous smile.

"You must remember that you have only one side of the story, and you have received it from a person who is deeply prejudiced against me," said Neal, bitterly. "You ought to know better than to blindly believe Jones, given the history of his infamous conduct towards my father!"

"You are in no position to make such declarations, Mr. Cassidy, as your conduct has not been of the kind to inspire confidence in your claims." Emma threw back.

Neal's arched his brows. "Oh, so you trust him now?" He jerked his head at the sheet music on top of the pianoforte and smirked. "Has he given you more of those? Is that why you're practicing so hard? So you can play it for him?"

"I do not see that it is any concern of yours," Emma returned.

Neal studied her face for a few moments in silence, brows furrowed, shoulders hunched. Emma remained silent. If he thought his silent judgment was going to get to her, he was going to be sorely disappointed. After a few moments, Neal relaxed his stance and said, "I did not know that Wendy was the niece of Captain Jones."

"I find that hard to believe," said Emma.

"It is the truth," Neal reiterated. "If I had known who she was, I would not have gone near her."

"You're telling me that the young woman you seduced and abandoned just happened to be the niece of the very man you detest?" asked Emma, incredulous at his assertion.

"If you cannot take my word for it, perhaps it is because you have let your emotions cloud your judgment," said Neal, eyes glinting.

"You question my judgment?" Emma narrowed her eyes. "Tell me, Mr. Cassidy, what of yours? What kind of a woman would you have judged as the right sort to pursue? Someone who was entirely unprotected and friendless? Someone who offered an easier target to your twisted passions?"

Neal's eyes hardened. "The responsibility for what happened does not solely fall on me. From the very start of our acquaintance, Miss Jones was relentless in her pursuit of me. I tried to avoid her as much as possible, but she would not leave me alone. In a moment of weakness, I gave in to her importunities. She was no saint, believe me."

"She was sixteen. Little more than a child," cried Emma. "You abandoned that girl without a word! She did not know where you had gone or how to get a hold of you in her distress!"

"I did not know then that she was with child. Given my own history, do you think I would intentionally abandon a child of mine?" Neal made an emphatic gesture to drive home his point. "If she had used a little bit of common sense, Miss Jones would've stayed put in Bath and written to me. Instead, she took off like a fool to look for me on her own."

"And this is what you offer in mitigation of your cruel treatment? By speaking ill of a frightened and desperate young girl's sense and judgment?" Emma shook her head in disbelief. "This does you no credit."

Neal stood up abruptly. He walked up to the mantelpiece and toyed with some ornaments. He sighed. "I do not wish to speak ill of her. I know I treated her very shamefully."

"That is putting it mildly. And after your callous abandonment of her, you came straight to Misthaven and started trifling with me for your amusement!"

Neal walked back to where Emma was sitting and leant forward against the pianoforte. He looked at her with an earnest expression. "That was never the case, I assure you. The day before I left Misthaven, I'd made up my mind to pay my addresses to you, and to engage my faith as I had engaged my heart."

Emma's eyes flashed. This confession of Neal's made it appear as though he had not been seriously considering matrimony until then. She was disappointed, but not surprised. So much for his sincerity.

Neal continued. "That evening, on my way back to French Lodge from Arendell, Booth waylaid me. A mutual acquaintance had written to him, appraising him of Wendy's flight from Bath and of Jones's arrival there."

Emma frowned. "Mr. Booth? The curate?"

"He and I were in the same set in Bath last summer," said Neal.

Emma had known that he and Neal were acquaintances, but that August Booth had had any part in this whole mess was news to her. Did Captain Jones know of this, and was this why Booth had been replaced by Mr. Scarlett?

"Well, and so you ran." Emma stated flatly.

"What other choice did I have?" he responded. "A hot-headed naval man like Jones who had been in the war would not listen to reason. Besides, I knew that it was the end of my prospects with you." Neal gave a wistful smile—one which Emma would have found engaging in the past. He started pacing the room. "And so I left Misthaven and laid low in London for some time."

"Is that when Mrs. Gould wrote to you?"

Neal looked startled for a moment. Then, he nodded. "Jones had appraised her of everything, casting my conduct in the worst possible light. She confirmed to me what I had feared ever since I'd heard of Miss Jones's flight—that she was with child. She tried to convince me to marry the girl. She offered to speak to Jones on my behalf if I was willing to make things right."

This information agreed with Mrs. Gould's letter. At least in this, Neal was speaking the truth. "Go on…" she said, when he paused. "Did you at least consider it?"

"Not for long." Neal made an uncomfortable grimace. "We would only have made each other miserable."

"That was around the time you were introduced to Miss Lambe's acquaintance, I suppose. You saw that it was within your power to make a more advantageous marriage." Emma stated dryly.

"I suppose I deserve every bit of that reproach." Neal gestured resignedly. He sat down once more. "The truth is, my wife and I married knowing full well that we did not love each other."

"Indeed!"

"We both had something to offer the other," said Neal. "I was in desperate need of money to pay off some pressing debts of honor. My wife was the grandchild of a mulatto woman, looking for an escape from her stifling home environment."

"You can have little conception of how your wife truly feels if you can speak so disrespectfully of her." Emma was disgusted. How had she been so blind to his faults?

"I state the plain truth. Her grandfather died last year and left her under the care of her uncle who dislikes her and couldn't wait to see her gone. Our marriage was a mutually beneficial arrangement." He grimaced. "We agreed that we would live separate lives after the wedding."

"Did you not consider that Captain Jones would have paid all your debts and settled a generous sum of money on his niece if you had married her?"

"Perhaps. But then, he would have the whip hand over me for the rest of my life." Neal grit his teeth. "That I could not abide."

Emma scoffed, but said nothing.

After several moments of silence, Neal continued, "Now that I have the means, I want to make what amends I can for the child and its mother. But Jones refuses to allow me to have anything to do with them."

Emma could not blame Captain Jones for his refusal. It was not just a question of distrusting Neal. Wendy had to be protected from any further association with him.

After a beat, Neal added in a soft voice. "And I wish to make amends to you as well."

"How do you mean?"

"Miss Emma," continued Neal, leaning forward with an earnest look on his face, "you cannot conceive what it cost me to offer for Miss Lambe. Those weeks I spent in your company were some of the happiest in my life. I never cared for any woman as I have cared for you. As I still do."

Emma's jaw dropped. She was too stunned to speak. Was he suggesting…

"And I know that you care for me as well." Neal tilted his head and looked at her through his eyelashes. "What I'm trying to say is…there is still a chance for us to be together."

Emma rose, seething. "Is this what you told Wendy Jones when you seduced her? You're sorely mistaken in my character if you think I would lower myself to be your mistress."

Neal looked pained. "I know you don't set store by propriety as much as all that, Miss Emma. I understand you are angry with me—justly so. But, once you've had time to…"

Emma put up a hand to cut him off, and said, "In my foolish infatuation with you, I was led astray into some improper conduct, and I thank providence it wasn't worse. But I'm not interested in having anything more to do with you."

Neal looked at her consideringly for some moments. He huffed out a laugh. "I see Jones has pressed his advantage to a greater degree than I had feared."

Emma had been on the point of ringing the bell for Ashley, but paused. "What do you mean?"

Neal expelled a long breath. "I went to pay my respects to Mrs. Gould this morning before I called here. In the course of our conversation, she let fall a hint that Jones was pursuing you. I was hoping to find her in the wrong."

"Again, what concern is it of yours?"

Neal narrowed his eyes. "Take care, Miss Emma. Jones may look the picture of nobility next to me, but when it comes to his self-interest, he's no better than anyone else."

"Thank you for your concern. But I'm quite capable of making my own judgments." Emma rang the bell for Ashley. "And now, I must ask you to leave."

Neal looked taken aback at her abrupt dismissal. Ashley opened the door and stood at the threshold. The message was clear. Neal rose and bowed. "I thank you for your time, Miss Emma. Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." The angry glint in his eyes belied his polite words. He picked up his cane and with one last bitter glance, left the room.

After he had left, Emma sat in silent contemplation of their conversation, staggered at Neal's audacity in suggesting a clandestine arrangement between the two of them. Loathe as she was to acknowledge it, a meeting with him was something Emma had both wished for and dreaded in equal measure ever since she'd learned of his engagement to Miss Lambe on that fateful London evening. Even after being appraised of his treatment of poor Wendy Jones, it had not been easy for her to reconcile his good-humored countenance and open temper with dishonorable behavior. She had been so taken in by his charm and the romantic circumstances of their meeting that she supposed she had failed to notice the distinct sense of entitlement he had always displayed. She had loved the charming man he then appeared to be, but underneath the surface was a person whose selfishness had led him into serious moral transgressions. It was obvious to Emma now that Neal looked upon himself as the perpetual victim of circumstances or of other people's actions. How often had he complained about his parentage and consequent inability to inherit Misthaven Abbey! He was still sore over the fact that his father had not intended him to carry the Gould name. That Neal had done the same to another child had not even occurred to him.

Emma could not help deeply pitying Mrs. Cassidy. If she had wanted to escape a wretched home, what kind of a sanctuary had she found with her husband? Emma could not quite credit Neal's assertion that his wife had agreed to a marriage of convenience. She suspected that this was something Neal wanted to believe to make himself feel better for marrying for the sake of financial security. Or, perhaps, he had only said that as an excuse to convince her into agreeing to be his mistress. Neal had spoken fine words about having intended to propose to her, but he had never once confessed to loving her. He had avoided committing himself with his words back then, and now, had only done so to make a demeaning offer.

What a contrast to this was Captain Jones's treatment of herself. In all her interactions with him, he had behaved as a true gentleman. Despite his self-confessed preference for her, he had never pushed himself on her, but had tried to look out for her welfare in spite of her blind defense of Neal and her mistaken accusations against him. Captain Jones had earned every present comfort by his hard work and determination, and did not use his own sufferings as an excuse to treat others shamefully. The Abbey had descended to him via entail, perhaps, but it was his money and exertions that had saved the estate from ruin and opened up fresh prospects for so many farmers and laborers. Neal's continued bitterness towards Captain Jones in spite of his own shameful treatment of Wendy spoke volumes about how blinded he was on the subject of the captain's true worth and goodness.

Emma's silent reflections were disturbed by Ashley, looking agitated once more as she entered the room.

"What is it, Ashley?" Emma asked. Had Neal taken it upon his head to come back with more importunities?

"It's the woodcutter's little girl, miss. Ava. She's in the kitchen—and she's in a proper state!"

Emma rose and followed Ashley out of the room, wondering if Ava's father or brother had been taken ill. She sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, red-faced, hair askew, and tear tracks covering her cheeks. Mrs. Patmore and Astrid hovered nearby, looking concerned.

"What's the matter, Ava?" asked Emma, sitting beside her and laying a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Are you ill? Where are your father and your brother?"

At that, Ava broke down weeping. It took Emma several minutes to calm the girl down enough to get her story. It was a very grim one. Nicholas was caught poaching a week before and was being held at Pendraig Castle, Sir Arthur's seat. Today was the day of the trial that would decide his punishment.

"Papa's been there since the morning. I was too scared to stay alone," she hiccupped.

Emma stroked Ava's back soothingly.

"Mrs. Patmore, please get her some hot milk," said Emma, and gave her handkerchief to the little girl to dry her tears.

"Oh miss, will they hang him?" said Ava, between stuttered breaths.

"No, they won't," Emma tried to reassure her, even though she felt far from confident about that herself.

"There, there. Don't take on so, my dear," said Mrs. Patmore, returning shortly with the hot milk. Between the two of them, she and Emma convinced Ava to drink up the warm beverage.

Emma turned to Astrid. "Come with me, Astrid. We're going to Pendraig Castle."

"Now? At least wait until Miss White and Miss Blanchard get back, miss," Mrs. Patmore protested.

"We don't know when they'll be back. By then it may be too late." Emma stood up. "Mrs. Patmore. Ashley. You two watch over Ava. Don't leave her alone, is that clear?"

Emma got Leroy to hitch the donkey to the cart and set off with Astrid. Captain Jones had gone to Kent on a short visit, otherwise Emma would have consulted him first. She had half a mind to take David along, but on thinking over it, she decided that she would first discover the result of the trial. If Nicholas had been released, which was unlikely but not implausible, she would have no need to bother anyone. Besides, she did not want Sir Arthur set against David right when the latter was just taking up his responsibilities as the rector of Misthaven.

They reached the ornate wrought iron gates of Pendraig Castle half an hour later. The liveried attendant standing guard at a post let them inside after Emma gave her name. The distance from the gate to the castle building was considerable, and it was another fifteen minutes before Emma reached it.

Pendraig Castle was a formidable-looking structure, set on rising ground. It was built like a fort, and presumably used as such at one point. Parts of the building dated back to the fourteenth century, though several sections had been repaired and rebuilt over the years such that it almost had a disjointed, patchwork appearance. Emma could hear the sound of waves crashing against the cliff-face on the other side.

Emma and Astrid got down from the cart and handed the reins to a servant. Michael Zimmer was standing outside, and came up to her on seeing her. Emma stepped forward and opened her mouth to ask if a verdict had been reached, and then closed it without saying anything. Michael's countenance told its own story. He looked as if the whole world had crashed down on him.

"Oh, miss," he said. "My boy…"

"What is the sentence?" Emma importuned.

"Oh miss," Michael repeated. He was having trouble finding words. Taking a deep sobbing breath, he said, "He's to be sent away to the colonies."

"Oh, Michael, I am so sorry," said Emma pressing Michael Zimmer's hands.

"It's I who ought to be sorry, miss," said Zimmer, trembling. "It's all my fault. I told Sir Arthur that I'd take the punishment for my son, but he's refusing to consider it."

"Let me go talk to Sir Arthur," said Emma, releasing Zimmer's hands.

Michael Zimmer nodded hopelessly. "Thank you, miss." He slouched against the wall of the building, his hands on his head.

Asking Astrid to wait with Michael, Emma walked up to the door and gave her name to a waiting footman. He led her through several lofty rooms and finally stopped in front of a door. Opening it, he announced, "Miss Emma Blanchard to see you, Sir Arthur." He then bowed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Sir Arthur was sitting at a desk, books and parchments spread out before him. He looked up from his work and stared at Emma, but did not rise.

"Please sit, Miss Emma," said the man, indicating a chair across from him. "What can I do for you?"

Emma launched into the details of her errand. Once she had finished, Sir Arthur took off his spectacles and started polishing them with a white linen cloth.

"Let me be clear," he said, looking up. "You want me to let the boy go without prosecuting him for his crime."

"I'm requesting you to show leniency towards him and commute his sentence. He is very young. This is his first time, and…"

"This was his first time being caught." Sir Arthur interrupted. "There have been fifteen incidents of poaching across the county in the last two months. It is absolutely essential that this is dealt with swiftly and strictly."

"And you believe Nicholas is responsible for all of them?"

"Him and people like him," Sir Arthur returned with a bite. "Where do you think he learned to disrespect another man's property? If he walks free, this boy will someday teach his own sons to lie and steal, just like his father before him."

"You attribute such wicked motives to a boy of ten?"

"Being young does not absolve him of his crime." Sir Arthur narrowed his eyes. "If you will excuse me for saying this, Miss Emma, you are much too young and inexperienced to understand human nature as I do. You must have heard the saying, 'Men are not hanged for stealing horses, but that horses may not be stolen'. This will serve as a warning to all the wastrels of Misthaven that their vagrancy will not be tolerated."

"But Nicholas is a child, not a man." Emma dug her nails into her palms to keep herself from exploding at Sir Arthur and bringing their interview to a premature end. "He may not even survive the long journey with no one to look out for him."

"You would accuse me of cruelty for administering justice?" Sir Arthur leant forward, his jaw clenching. "What do you know about governance, Miss Emma? I never heard that women receive instruction on the finer points of the law from their governesses."

Emma stared back at Sir Arthur defiantly. "Perhaps I do not know much about the law or governance. But I do know that mercy triumphs over justice."

"Mercy." Sir Arthur gave a mocking laugh and rose. He walked to the window and stood looking outside for a few moments. The sound of the waves seemed louder in the silence. Sir Arthur turned to Emma. "Do you think your visits to the poor prove that you are more generous than landowners like me who can and do much more than you?"

"I do not question your generosity when it comes to your land and your tenants, Sir Arthur," Emma replied, with a small wave of her hand. "But you know as well as anyone else how bad the winter has been and how difficult it has been for farmers and laborers to find work."

"And that's why we have rules and conventions, Miss Emma. People who live on the land honestly warrant parish assistance in the event of unforeseen circumstances." Sir Arthur walked back to his desk and sat down. "Laws must be properly enforced if we're to be a functioning society and not descend into the kind of anarchy that exemplifies the American and French revolutions. England will always stand for order and the proper way of doing things."

"And you believe it falls on you to ensure it?"

"All the government cares about is colonization and expansion. As for our royalty, drunk and bloated in the surfeit of their pleasures, they represent the worst moral failings in the land." Sir Arthur's eyes glinted. "It is up to us—the country squires and gentry landowners—to take the lead in restoring the moral balance that's been knocked askew by our so-called superiors in rank."

Emma stared at Sir Arthur, his eyes shining with the light of the fanatic absolutely convinced of the rightness of his creed. For the first time, Emma feared that she was going to fail in her errand. Sitting in front of her was not a man who was wantonly cruel or took perverse pleasure in the pain of others. Sir Arthur truly believed that it was up to him to raise the moral standards of the country. She was not going to change his mind by trying to tap into his compassionate side.

"If that is what you believe, Sir Arthur, I can see why you wish to see justice." Emma spoke calmly, even if she was feeling anything but calm on the inside. "If the person on whose land Nicholas was caught agrees to withdraw his charges, would you consider letting Nicholas go free?"

Sir Arthur stared at Emma for a moment, and then he huffed a laugh. "You do not know where he was caught, do you?"

Emma shook her head slowly.

"On the grounds of Misthaven Abbey."

Emma gave a start.

Sir Arthur gave a sarcastic smile. "Captain Jones may be your friend, Miss Emma, but I'm not without like-minded allies in this county, as you might imagine."

Emma did not miss the significance of Sir Arthur's emphasis on the word "friend", and the thought that Captain Jones had anything to do with this filled her with dread. But she tried to get her riotous thoughts under control and focus on the task at hand. She took in a few deep breaths and said, "In that case, I will talk to Captain Jones once he returns to Misthaven. If he is willing to let this slide..."

"It is too late for that, Miss Emma. The case has been adjudicated."

"A sentence can be commuted, Sir Arthur. I know that much, despite my youth and lack of proper education in the law," said Emma. "Perhaps you may consider exacting a monetary penalty in lieu of the sentence along with a guarantee of good behavior from the boy's father."

"And how do you propose the Zimmers will afford to pay it?" Sir Arthur gave a sarcastic smile. "Will you beg money from your cousin, or will you ask Captain Jones to make double payment for his own loss?"

Emma's eyes blazed with anger. "Why does it matter to you how I get the money?"

"Because it does." Sir Arthur struck his fists on the table and rose. "It is oh, so easy for people like you to direct another man's charity, while you do nothing on your own, is it not?"

Emma rose as well, her breath coming fast. "I do what I can."

Sir Arthur studied her face for a few long moments in silence. Then, his face relaxed into a smile. "I'll make a bargain with you, Miss Emma. If you can pay the penalty for the boy's theft out of your own pocket, I will let him go. I will trust your honor as a gentleman's daughter that you will not beg it of any of your friends in Misthaven. Otherwise, Nicholas Zimmer will be sent to London tomorrow, where he will await transportation to the colonies."

"How much is it to be?" asked Emma, too angry to be embarrassed at all his insinuations.

"Fifty pounds."

Emma was outraged. "Fifty pounds for a dead deer?"

"Poaching deer is a hanging offense, if you weren't aware of it. I've been more than merciful to the boy by any account."

Emma narrowed her eyes at Sir Arthur and thought furiously. Even if she scrounged up all the money in Arendell Cottage, it wouldn't amount to more than twenty pounds at the most. There was only one alternative she could think of.

"Sir Arthur, you must know very well that I do not have fifty pounds lying around, which is clearly why you named that sum." Sir Arthur arched his brows. Emma ignored him and continued. "But I do have something of value that I could give you."

"Indeed. And what is that?"

"My pianoforte."

"Your pianoforte," Sir Arthur repeated, in a flat tone. "Pray what is its value?"

"It belonged to my mother and I do not know what its current valuation would be. But it is a fine instrument all the same, and likely to fetch a good price if it is sold, though I do not know that it will amount to fifty pounds."

"You would give up something so precious for the sake of a delinquent?"

Emma's eyes pricked, but she bit her lip to hold back her tears. "The pianoforte is indeed precious to me. But not so precious as to stay my hand if its loss will restore the boy to his family."

Sir Arthur gave Emma a long and searching look. "You are too naive and idealistic for your own good, Miss Emma. Ask yourself this question. What will you do when Nicholas gets caught for poaching again?"

"That, Sir Arthur, is my lookout." Emma shot back. "Now, are you going to fulfill your word as a gentleman and release the boy or are you not?"

Ten minutes later, Emma stepped outside the Castle, Nicholas trailing by her side, his hand in hers. Michael Zimmer took one look at the pair of them, and dropped to his knees. Emma let go of Nicholas and he immediately ran to his father, who was too overwhelmed to speak. All he could do was rain kisses on the boy's cheeks and embrace him again and again.

When Emma and Astrid returned to Arendell Cottage, Michael Zimmer and Nicholas in tow, there were a host of people standing outside—Mary Margaret, Ingrid, Ava, and the other servants. Ava took one look at the approaching cart, and started squealing and jumping up and down with joy. Everyone moved to the kitchen to celebrate the release of Nicholas Zimmer.

After the Zimmers had left, Ingrid finally asked the question uppermost in her and Mary Margaret's mind. "How in the world did you convince Sir Arthur to let the boy go?"

Emma bit her lip. She did not expect Ingrid or Mary Margaret to react well when they understood the nature of her bargain with Sir Arthur. They did not.

"But Emma, you love the pianoforte!" cried Mary Margaret. "It was Mama's!"

Emma's lips trembled. "I know. But can't you see that there was nothing else I could have done to save Nicholas?"

"I'll go and talk to Sir Arthur early tomorrow morning," Ingrid declared. "I'll not let that high-handed tyrant have his way in the matter."

"No, you cannot go," said Emma. "If I go back on my word, there is every danger of him changing his mind about Nicholas."

"He'll be too ashamed to do any such thing after the talking to I shall give him," said Ingrid. "It seems very likely to me that he did not expect you to pay the penalty he asked for."

"Yes, and I called him out on it." Emma agreed. "Don't you see that this is why I need to keep my end of the bargain?"

The three ladies went back and forth on the question for the rest of the evening, though neither Ingrid nor Mary Margaret were able to convince Emma to change her mind. After dinner, Emma sat down at her pianoforte. Her spirits felt oppressed as she stumbled over the notes, tears blurring her eyes. Sir Arthur's men would be at the cottage early on the morrow to collect her pianoforte. But that was not the only matter contributing to her depressed spirits. The idea that Captain Jones had been involved in the arrest of Nicholas Zimmer was repugnant to her. "Jones may look the picture of nobility next to me, but when it comes to his self-interest, he's no better than anyone else" had been Neal Cassidy's warning. His opinion was nothing but the result of bitterness and prejudice was it not? Had not many in Misthaven credited the captain as being a liberal master and landlord? But then, when it came to poachers, most landed gentlemen tended to take punitive measures to protect their property. Emma could not bear it if Captain Jones was like the rest of them. Her own parents had been very generous to the poor. Emma could not respect a man who looked to his interests so carefully that he lost his sense of compassion as Neal had done. Had the captain not shown kindness and understanding towards herself? Would such a man be cruel to a child, no matter what the situation? Or was she falling into the same kind of trap as she had with Neal Cassidy? Was her growing partiality for the captain blinding her to his faults?

Emma woke the next morning to the same dire reflections that had closed her eyes the night before. After her morning ablutions were complete, she went down to the drawing room and sat at her pianoforte for one last time. She attempted a few bars, but a fit of weeping overtook her, and she rested her head on the instrument. A hand pressed down on her shoulder. Emma lifted a tearful face to see Mary Margaret standing beside her.

"Emma. I will only ask you this once more. Are you sure?" She slid into the bench to sit by Emma. "I'm certain that we can find another way around this."

"If you were in my place right now, would you change your mind?" asked Emma.

After a minute, Mary Margaret shook her head.

"That is why I need to do this," Emma stated.

"Mama would be very proud of you," said Mary Margaret. She blinked the tears that had pooled under her eyelids and embraced her sister tightly.

After Sir Arthur's men had collected the instrument, Emma sat arranging all her sheet music on a shelf.

"We will buy a new pianoforte," Ingrid said bracingly. "We've hardly been extravagant in our expenses, and we can well afford to order a new instrument from Broadwood."

Emma nodded distractedly. She was holding the sheet music for Amazing Grace that she and Captain Jones had sung together at the Abbey. He had copied it out for her recently at her behest. It reminded Emma of all that the captain had shared about his difficult childhood and his various losses, and how he had slowly turned away from bitterness upon his return from the Indies. This was not a man who could be cold and unfeeling towards other people in reduced circumstances. In that moment, Emma decided that she would not jump to the worst conclusions about his conduct. She would follow Ruby's wise counsel and not tar the captain with the same brush as the man who had broken her heart.

She stood up abruptly. "I'll be back," she announced.

Mary Margaret and Ingrid stared at each other in puzzlement as Emma ran out of the room.

Emma exited the cottage through the back door and went to the kitchen-garden. Leroy was standing there with Astrid, his hand resting on his spade. He was sporting an uncharacteristic grin as he stood listening raptly to Astrid, who as per usual, was talking nineteen to the dozen. Emma almost laughed out loudly in astonishment. The ever-grumpy Leroy had fallen for the effervescent Astrid. So, opposites did attract. On hearing Emma's approach, the two of them broke apart. Astrid looked sheepish and hurried back into the cottage while Leroy's face was as red as a lobster.

Emma controlled her laugh, and began, "Leroy, I was wondering if you could get some information for me."

"Yes, miss?" he said, gruffly.

"Could you find out how Nicholas Zimmer got caught?" asked Emma.

"Oh, I know what happened, miss. I got the whole story from my pal Walter down at the pub last night." Leroy shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes?" Emma prompted. Trust Leroy to have his hand on the pulse of the village gossip.

"Walter's been putting in work as a constable in the evenings. With all the poaching that's been happening lately, Sir Arthur and the shiriff are paying a bunch of village lads to watch out for them poachers and arrest them. Walter was asking me to join up." Leroy laughed. "I told him, I'd rather be dead in a ditch than be caught ratting out those poor wretches to them flush nobs. Pardon the expression, miss."

"Sir Arthur told me that Nicholas had been arrested on the grounds of Misthaven Abbey. Does Captain Jones know of this added patrolling?"

"I doubt it, miss." Leroy scratched his beard. "Sir Arthur's been having the constables roaming and patrolling all over the village, whether the landlords approve of it or not."

"Is that not trespassing?"

"Sir hoity-toity thinks he is the law around these parts, being the magistrate and all." Leroy shrugged. "If you ask me, miss, I'd say he's a bit mental about the whole thing. Thinks he's the king or summat."

"Thank you, Leroy," said Emma and left Leroy to his digging. She felt a great weight roll off her chest.

Emma wondered if the increased frequency of her meetings with Captain Jones during Admiral Nemo's visit and on David's arrival had given rise to village gossip about the two of them. Whatever had contributed to Sir Arthur's suspicious regarding herself and Captain Jones, he had clearly intended to discourage her from pleading on behalf of Nicholas by deceptively hinting that the captain had turned in the boy. But none of that mattered to Emma now. What was most important to her was that her trust in Captain Jones had been justified. A pleasant warmth filled her heart when she realized that she had not been wrong in giving him the benefit of the doubt. Emma went back inside more cheerful than she had expected to feel when she woke up that morning.

I know you're all disappointed by the absence of Captain Jones. The next chapter will more than make up for it, I hope. ;-)