The next chapter is here! It's been a year since I started writing this. Wow. I know this one is kind of short, but I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter written today in honor of the anniversary. Fingers crossed! This chapter actually would have arrived sooner, but for some reason this chapter was a difficult one to write despite knowing what I wanted. Hmph. Oh well. It's done now. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

The next day Mr. Black was no where to be found. Jackson didn't consider it a great loss, but his mother was in a flurry of worry over the implications of such an abrasive treatment.

"Jackson," she snapped. "What did you say to him?"

"Mother?"

"You were the last to speak to him alone. What did you say? You've always had a mouth on you. Even when you were little, you were talking the moment you popped out from the womb; I knew at that very moment that that mouth of yours would get this family into trouble," she ranted, completely forgetting her original question. The topic as a whole was further forgotten when a servant came in with a letter from Dreki Vollr and handed it to Ms. Overland.

"Well, Emma," her mother urged. "Open it!"

Her daughter did as she was told as Mrs. Overland continued her spiel. "Perhaps Mr. Liely writes to thank you for gracing his ball with your presence. Or, he invites you to dine with him and his cousins. His cousins…"

Jackson tuned out his mother as he focused on his sister's face. Her eyes widened as she read further, a small crease forming between her eyebrows as she focused intently on a few select passages. After finishing, she folded it carefully and placed it aside. A smile plastered itself across her face as she tried to jump in on their mother's current energized sprawl.

The young man's fingers fiddled with a loose thread. He was impatient for a spare moment to pull Emma aside and find out what had been in the letter, especially if it had rattled her so much. It took Mary rushing in with Sarah on her heels to distract Mother. As the three—well, two—gabbed about heading to town, he turned to his sister.

"Emma," he whispered.

She turned to face him, arching an eyebrow in question.

"What was in the letter?"

She pursed her lips. "It's from Abigail Vickson," she said softly. "She wanted inform me that because of unforeseen troubles—where they were she preferred not to specify—the entire party had to leave. She regretted that they were unable to give a personal farewell, but things urged Mr. Liely to immediately leave; they will be following behind him tomorrow morning."

Emma paused and took a deep breath. "However, she says that she will miss my company and entreats me to write often and keep in contact; otherwise, I'd be compromising her sanity if she had to only count on her sister for company. They do not intend on returning this winter."

The young Mr. Overland hmphed and crossed his arms.

"Jackson."

"Hmm."

"Do you think much will change during that time?"

"Perhaps, people are fickle that way," he said without thinking. It wasn't until he saw the frown tug at the corner of her mouth that he realized what she was asking. "But, Mr. Liely strikes me as a steadfast man."

"But if he doesn't return, surely his affections may change."

"I don't know, Emma. I am not has hopeful as you, yet I also refuse to believe he would be such a callous man."

"Maybe," she whispered before dashing thoughts of the letter aside to reprimand her mother for mulling over allowing the younger girls to go to Burgess on their own.

The inky gentleman had returned some time ago, and Emma had walked with Mary and Sarah to Burgess. The young Mr. Overland was in no mood to deal with either his mother or Mr. Black, so he pulled on his coat, snatched his top hat and decided to pay a visit to Ms. Bennett.

Strong rays of sunlight struggled to rip through his clothes and decimate his skin, but their attempts were thwarted by the cool air of late summer. Soon autumn would dawn and close behind it would be winter. Jackson smiled. That was his favorite time of the year. He tipped his hat further down until his eyes were cast in the shadow of its brim. Glancing up the roadway, he spied a solitary figure walking towards him, parasol in hand to hide her slim figure from the sunlight. Squinting at the wavering figure, he recognized the shape. He waited until she saw him as well and gave him a small wave in recognition.

"Jenny!" he cried out, waving a hand over his head and picked up his pace to meet her. He came to a halt by her side and offered her his arm. She latched onto it and allowed him to escort her.

"I was just coming to see you," he said.

"And I you. I have something to tell you," she said, her voice softer than he had ever heard it. But, he brushed it off.

"I, too. Emma received a letter this morning. Guess from whom."

"Hmm?"

"Ms. Abigail Vickson. Apparently Mr. Liely had to leave town and the others of his party are soon to follow him. It is unlikely that they will return this winter."

"That is all too surprising, Jack. Mr. Liely is an influential man. I'm sure he must be very busy. There are some things you cannot fix from home."

"Hmph. Perhaps. But, I am convinced that he left through some interference on his party's part."

"For what reason?"

"For all they flatter themselves and Emma, they don't truly care for her. That much could be discerned while she lay sick in their house."

"Wasn't it only a small cold, though, Jack?"

"That does not dismiss how little they cared for her health. They only one who showed the slightest worry was Mr. Liely."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't think that they approve of his relationship with my sister. It wouldn't surprise me if they managed to pry him away from her."

"All of them? Even Mr. Haddock? I believed you two were getting along quite well in recent times," she responded with a smirk, pinching his arm.

Jackson huffed. "He was tolerant for a moment; a rather strange occurrence it was. But, to answer your question, he does appear to be one aware and focused on class; it seems entirely possible that he would have an influence on that matter. Mr. Liely does seem highly appreciative and receptive of his opinions."

"I don't know. Perhaps this is all some misunderstanding."

"I highly doubt it. I've told you before, Jackson, you need to listen and stop making snap decisions about everyone and then conforming every action of theirs to fit it. You're too stubborn for your own good."

The young Mr. Overland cleared his throat. "That is enough of me. You had news as well. Come, tell me what it is."

Jennifer took a shaky breath as she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm engaged."

"What?" he spluttered. "To whom?"

"Your cousin," she whispered.

"Jennifer!" he shouted, turning on her and grasping her arms. "What are you thinking? You cannot marry that man!"

"What other choice do I have, Jackson!" she hollered in reply before composing herself. "None, that's the other choice's I have. I'm not growing younger; I'm growing older. I cannot afford to be a burden on my family for much longer; I do not have the luxury to deny him."

"Do you know anything about him, Jenny? Do you know that he—"

"Jack, I don't know, and I can't care. I may not be his desired pick; I may not be his first choice, but I cannot refuse his offer. It is not likely I will find another willing to take my hand any time soon."

"Jenny."

"No, Jackson. Come, tell me, what other men have shown the slightest interest in me?"

The young Mr. Overland's eyes darted to the ground.

"You see? I cannot wait forever. I know that no man will attempt to know me with you around, and I certainly cannot rely on you to ask me," she explained with a small smile.

Jackson sighed as her words sunk in. His thumbs stroked her arms before he stood up and took her arm again. "Well," he said, "We are close to the house. Perhaps we should stop by and allow you to say hello to your fiancé and make the announcement to my family?"

"As long as you're right there."

"Of course I will be."