Edmund was early home that evening, the house empty. He suspected his wife was at church and as for his daughter, he had no idea where she would be. He wondered if her mother knew where she had gotten to? What tall tale had she spun her to escape her watchful gaze? Reid did not know and he wondered if he dared ask. He had taken to sitting in the parlour, waiting for the door to open. A part of him hoped that his daughter was home first so that he could speak with her first about what Best had said to him.

It had to be Edward who she had been seen with. It must be that boy. Edmund had not seen him in months, not that he saw him that much to begin with. He was constantly at work when Elizabeth had been but a thirteen-year-old girl and expressed a fondness for the boy who was one year her elder. He had suspected that it was a passing fancy. She was but a young girl who had a crush. Yet, if she was still seeing him, then perhaps he had been mistaken. It seemed as though he had been mistaken about a great many things, however.

Emily had always expressed a liking for the boy, saying that he was polite and had manners. Yet, she did not like the idea of her daughter with a boy and no chaperone, despite their age.

The door creaked open and Reid knew instantly that it was Elizabeth who was home. She had a familiar way about her, the door slamming shut as she did not care to close it properly. He heard her ruffling, hanging her coat up no doubt and tossing her keys down onto the sideboard. She moved through the hallway, pulling at her hat and feeling her hair tumble free from the pins she began to pull it from. She left the hat on the bannister at the bottom of the staircase.

"Father," she said, startled by his presence.

Edmund had the newspaper he had been reading on his lap. Truth be told, he had barely looked at it. His concentration was elsewhere, his mind on his daughter and what she had been doing. She smiled at him and it almost broke his heart to know she was keeping secrets from him.

"What are you doing home so early? I heard a boy had been accused of murdering the toymaker," Elizabeth said.

"He has all but admitted his guilt," Edmund said to her and she adjusted the shoulders of the white blouse she wore on her form, tucked into her dark green skirt. "Regardless, I cannot do anything for him while he refuses to speak. He will be tried soon enough."

"Do you think he did it?" Elizabeth questioned, heading into the room and Edmund watched her take a seat by the window on the sill, her hands holding onto it while she continued to watch her father.

"It does not matter what I think," he said to her. "He will not speak to me and there is nothing that I can do about that, Elizabeth. It is impossible."

"How odd," Elizabeth commented, "unless he has been put up to this by someone?"

"I should suspect that could be a possibility," Edmund said to her. "But, enough about my day. How have you been? I saw you skulk off earlier before I could say good morning."

Elizabeth didn't even seem to startle. Edmund was almost disappointed at that. The fact that she was about to lie to him so easily upset him more than he cared to admit. He watched her as she shrugged and kept the smile on her face.

"I went for a morning walk," she said to him. "I then went to the bookshop for a few hours…sat and read…you know Mrs Banks who owns it is so lovely. She lets me just perch in the back and read whatever I want."

"I see," Edmund said to his daughter.

There was silence then. Elizabeth watched her father, examining his features. She felt that there was something wrong. There was something not quite right. He was looking at her with a sense of disappointment. But why? She had done nothing to disappoint him. She had been fine with him the evening before. Unless…unless he knew. But how could he know? She had been so careful to evade being seen. She had even picked the bench hidden from the view of most people. No one would notice her, not unless they were truly looking.

"What does that mean?" she questioned from her father and he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said to her.

"Right," she responded; voice cautious. Moving to stand up straight, she began to leave the parlour. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Are you lying to me, Elizabeth?"

The question took her off guard. He saw her falter. She turned back round to look at him over her shoulder. His gaze was piercing and she was doing her best not to falter under the look that he was throwing in her direction. She turned around slowly, seeing him shake his head and look at her with more that she could describe as disappointment than anger Swallowing loudly, she waited for him to continue.

"I know that things have not been perfect in this family, but I had hoped that we were better than lying to each other."

"Father…" Elizabeth whispered and Edmund stood up, looking to her, towering above her as his gaze remained set on her. He noted her eyes begin to widen and tears formed there. Shaking his head, he pointed to her.

"No," he demanded. "Do not think that by crying you escape this."

"I did not know how to tell you," Elizabeth spoke. "I thought that you would be angry. I thought that you would not approve."

Edmund cleared his throat. "What I do not approve of, Elizabeth, is you lying to me," Edmund said, "or sneaking off behind your mother's and I's back as you quite clearly have been doing. You should have told us. You should not keep secrets. You know how dangerous they can be."

"I know," she quickly said, "and I am sorry. I did want to tell you about him and Edward wanted us to come clean, but I kept making excuses as to why it was not the right time."

Edmund shook his head and went about perching on his seat again. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head at her. Elizabeth remained stood awkwardly in the doorway, uncertain of what she should be doing.

"I am sorry," Elizabeth continued. "A part of me did not even want to see Edward again after what had happened, but he was persistent, father…kept telling me that I could not live with guilt and that he missed me."

"And did you miss him?" Edmund wondered, peering over to her.

He looked at her and something resembling loss flooded his heart. His daughter clearly had affections for another man. He knew that this day would come soon enough, but he had hoped that it would not be quite yet.

"Yes," Elizabeth whispered. "But every time I thought about him I…I thought about how I had snuck off to see him…and left Mathilda."

Edmund inhaled a sharp breath at that. "You know that was not your fault," he informed her, but she did not respond. She never knew how to respond to that because she, deep down, would always blame herself and she was convinced that a part of her parents would always blame her. That feeling would never go away, no matter how much she wanted it to.

"I care for him," Elizabeth said, sitting on the stool again and lacing her fingers together. "I know that we are only young and that he is studying, but we both are serious."

"Oh, Elizabeth," Edmund said, a low chuckle escaping him and he shook his head. Leaning back, he folded his arms over his chest. "Do not say something like that."

"Whyever not?" she enquired, brows knitting together in confusion.

He ran his hands over his face and then gripped the sides of his armchair. "Because that means another man holds your affection when I have grown so used to being the only one."

Elizabeth smiled at that, her lips only quirking slightly. Moving to sit on the arm of the chair, she let her father reach out and take hold of her hand, squeezing it in his grip tightly. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "No one will ever replace you," she said and Edmund's stomach clenched at the thought.

"No secrets," Edmund urged from his daughter, kissing the back of her hand. "I am serious, Elizabeth. You do not keep things from us. We are your parents and we love you…nothing will ever change that."

"I know," Elizabeth agreed. "But how did you find out?"

"Be careful who you are seen with, Fred Best has eyes everywhere," he said.

"The journalist?" she checked.

"The very same one," he confirmed.

"I am sorry you had to find out that way," Elizabeth said to her father. "I never meant for anything such as that to happen."

"Indeed," Edmund agreed with her, "the next best thing you can do, my darling, is inform your mother that you wish to court young Edward. You are aware that he will have to come for tea, yes? I have yet to meet the boy properly."

"I will tell mother," she said with a nod, "but if he does come for tea then you must promise me that you will not frighten him away."

She stood up then, tossing her hair over her shoulder and moving to the doorway. She stood in it, holding onto the frame and looking back at Edmund with an expectant stare. He held his hands up in defence, "I can make no promises," he said to her.

"Then you should try," she responded. "Would you like some tea?"

"I will now," he nodded at her and she left for the kitchen.

…

Emily was exhausted by the time she returned home. She had been to church and then to the hospital, seeing the women who were there and bringing them food. She walked into the house and the last thing she longed to do was cook dinner, but thankfully she had no need. She sniffed as she entered the house and her stomach began growling with hunger. Moving into the kitchen, she found Elizabeth stood there with her apron around her waist. Edmund was sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his fingertips.

"What a surprise," Emily spoke in a surprised tone. Firstly, she was shocked to see her daughter cooking and secondly she was amazed that her husband was home. She removed her hat from her head and dropped it down onto the end of the worktop. Peeling her gloves from her hands, she laid them on top of her hat.

"My case can wait until morning," Edmund said to his wife.

"And I have been trying to practice the art of cooking chicken to perfection as you do, mother," Elizabeth said and Emily moved towards her daughter who was in the process of peeling the vegetables. "Hopefully it turns out succulent."

"I do not doubt it will," Emily said.

"I also have something to say," Elizabeth said, blurting it out. She had no intention of keeping it hidden for any longer.

"Oh?" Emily asked from her.

"Yes," Elizabeth said and she finished the vegetables and wiped her hands on the apron. She let out a slow breath and nodded sternly to herself. Edmund remained mute. "I…I wish to court Edward…properly."

Emily looked startled at that. Elizabeth waited for her mother to say something. She frowned.

"But you have not seen him since before…well…" she trailed off. They all knew what she was speaking of. Elizabeth nodded her head, agreeing with her.

"I know," she admitted, "but the truth is that I have been seeing him. Whenever he is not studying and is available we go for walks along the river. I did not want to tell you because I felt guilty about seeing him after everything that happened, but he…I like him, mother."

Emily almost looked sad at hearing her speak, but she said nothing further. Instead she turned to her husband. "Did you know about this?"

"She informed me this evening that she had been seeing him," he confirmed, missing out the part involving her lying to him.

"And you did not tell us sooner?" Emily asked, looking back to her daughter. "Why did you keep it a secret?"

Elizabeth bit down on her lip and Edmund noted how she bowed her head, her hair falling into her face as she completed the motion. He did his best to comprehend how she was feeling, but he was struggling. A part of her looked more scared to speak with her mother than she had with him. It used to be that it was the other way round. She had always gone to her mother first, despite knowing she could easily get around her father if she was persistent enough.

"Because I did not know how to," she admitted. "As I said, I felt guilt, mother. A part of me does not feel that I deserve to be happy, especially with Edward."

Emily sighed and nodded. She seemed to understand.

"You could have told us," was all she said. She had no intention of beginning to argue. They had quarrelled often enough over the past few months and Emily had no energy left inside of her. She also knew that her daughter was very much like her and Edmund. They both were stubborn. They both went after what they wanted and clearly her daughter did want Edward.

"I am sorry."

"Well, it is known now," Emily sighed and Edmund had to admit that she was taking this better than he had thought she would. "And you are certain that this is what you want? You wish to court Edward publicly?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes," she said.

"And what do you have to say of this?" Emily asked her husband.

Edmund sipped on the remainder of his tea and placed the cup down. Folding his hands onto his knee, he nodded his head. "I have informed her that we are to meet the boy properly, of course. I should wish to discuss his suitability for courting our daughter."

"His suitability?" Elizabeth echoed back to her father and rolled her eyes. "Father, do not sound so serious."

"This is a serious matter, is it not?" Edmund asked, his gaze landing on his wife who startled for a moment at her husband asking her a direct question. She fiddled with her long dark hair, tucking it behind her ear and nodding her head.

"It is," Emily agreed and took a seat across from him. "I confess I am shocked that you have not locked her away and told her that she is too young."

"She would only go behind our back," Edmund said to his wife, watching the back of Elizabeth as she moved around the kitchen. "She would be too stubborn to listen to me."

"Hmm," Emily mused, eyeing her husband with suspicion for a moment. She then looked back to Elizabeth. "Invite Edward for tea on Sunday, yes? Your father should not be working and I will ensure that I visit the cake shop on the corner and have the finest meats for sandwiches."

"Sunday?" Elizabeth checked.

"Is that not suitable?"

"No, no," Elizabeth hastily responded, "that is brilliant, mother…I will speak with Edward and invite him tomorrow."

"There we have it," Emily said and Edmund noted his daughter smile as she continued cooking and Emily's own lips arched up as she poured herself a cup of tea.

….

A/N: Do let me know what you think!