What is this? Another chapter? Woo! I'm on a roll :) One more chapter to go! (And perhaps an epilogue. Do ya'll want an epilogue?) This ends on a wee bit of a cliffhanger...BUT I'll try to have the last chapter out in a day or so. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Six

His fingers idly tapped against the lid of the small box sitting on his chest. Mary and Mr. Fitzherbert had left yesterday with a flurry of tears and fond farewells and promises of letters. The couple had seemed relieved to finally be free from the family, and Jackson-though he desire to feel otherwise-couldn't help but be content when he had seen the smile the curled his sister's lips as she sat astride on of the horses her husband had rented for their travels to Corona. He wished that smile would stay on her face. He had no doubts that she could hold her own no matter what sly trick her husband may or may not have up his hand, but he doubt the abilities of the society around her to understand and allow her to forge her own way. Perhaps he more than anyone knew of the struggle with society.

Taking in a deep breath, he let it roll pass his lips as he twisted onto his side. He curled his hands under his chin, clutching the box tightly and nestling it against his chest. The black square had become a familiar shape in his hands, a comfortable item he could rely on. Jackson still hadn't managed to bring himself to open it. He couldn't. Perhaps, it had become a symbol for all his suffering, locked away and unknown. He felt like it would be sacrilegious to open it now. But, the back of his mind still tickled with curiosity at what the gentleman would give him.

A vast ocean of nothing poured into his stomach. The box had become an anchor; a show that maybe Mr. Haddock still felt something for him and he hadn't ruined any chance he had to have some happiness and company during the night. If he opened it, it could solidify that idea or shatter it. He could open it and find that nothing more than well-wished acquaintanceship or forgiving but distancing friendship, or it could be a renewal of his confession back at the Black's residence. If he opened it, whichever answer was definite. If he didn't, he could believe in the one that he wanted: the gentleman still cared deeply for him.

His fingers curled around the lid, toying with it. But...what was in it?

Just as he steeled his resolves to open the box and live with the outcome, a quiet knock hit his door before it opened.

His heart sped up as he shoved the box underneath his pillow and sat up.

Emma stepped into his room and shut the door behind her. "You're still in bed," she stated.

"Yes."

"I was worried when you did not appear for breakfast. Are you not feeling well?"

"I am just a bit tired," he said lying back down.

"Jackson," she said quietly. The bed dipped under her weight as she sat at the end. "Did something happen between you and Mr. Haddock at the Gala?"

"No," he defended, perhaps a bit too harshly.

She arched an eyebrow.

He pulled his lips into a familiar smirk. "What can happen when oil and water meet? All they do is repel each other."

"Tell me the truth, please, Jack. No more joking, no more play, tell me what happened."

He shook his head.

"You care for him, don't you? I am not sure when it change and I am not sure why, but your feelings did."

"Emma, why—"

She met his eyes with quietness. "I understand, Jack. Well...I know, at least I think. I just…I want you to be happy, but I'm worried. I do not want you run from the house, and I don't want you hurt and lonely because someone won't step up and stay at your side."

His throat pinched. "I—I don't..."

"Jenny—Mrs. Black wrote me while I was in Corona and detailed her thoughts and worries. Some came as quite a shock."

"Emma, I apologize for—"

"You have no reason to apologize. I am only sorry you were not comfortable with speaking to me." She swallowed; the edges of her eyes were misting. "I cannot say I would," she paused, "condone your behavior, but I want you to be happy. If he was to make you happy, I may be able...I could..."

Jackson sat up and wrapped his arms around his sister, pulling her close to his chest.

She shook her head and pushed away. "You should not be comforting me. I have no reason to be comforted. But, you," her voice faltered. Her cool hand pressed against his cheek, her thumb swiping swirls under his eye. "You have a hard road ahead of you. This is not something," she wriggled her nose, "acceptable, and I do not want to see you hold out hope for something that may not happen. Nevertheless, I hope you will let me be there for you.

"Thank you. Emma, you truly are too nice. Mr. Liely better treat you well."

She gave a sobbing laugh. "Mr. Haddock better do the same for you." Her lips curled into a small smile, testing the waters to see if she had made an appropriate comment.

"I do not think you have to worry. I cannot even say for sure he still feels anything for me. Your worry may be for nothing," he mumbled, his fingers rubbing the dried blood that still remained on his lip.

A commotion outside drew the two apart. Their eyes darted to his window. Emma stood and crossed the room. She pushed the curtains back and looked out. An odd expression crossed her face.

"Who is?"

"It appears my fiancé and his friend have decided to call upon the house."

Jackson felt the blood rush from my face and drop downwards. "Mr. Haddock's here?"

She nodded. "I suggest you get dressed, and then you can join us. I am sure he is eager to see you." Without another word, she left him alone.

The click of the door shutting reverberated around his room and pushed him from his bed. Mindlessly, he got up and shuffled about his room. He pulled on his clothes with little thought, going through the motions. Once his fingers brushed the cool metal of the doorknob, his heart was shocked into overdrive.

He was here.

Mr. Haddock was here.

What was he going to do?

What should he say?

Should he act like nothing had happened between them?

He didn't know. He didn't know how to face him after everything. Jackson rested his head against the door. He had yet to thank him. Today, he had to do it today. The gentleman had done too much for his family without someone expressing gratitude. He was sure Mary hadn't thanked him; Emma may make a passing remark about it in the future once she was comfortable with him.

But that wasn't enough. Hell, even the words from his mouth weren't enough to repay him, yet he needed to start somewhere.

Taking a steeling breath, Jackson tightened his grip on the doorknob and opened the door.
A small party consisting of the gentleman and his sisters greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mr. Overland," Mr. Liely said with a smile. "We were just about to take a walk down the lane. The end of the year has graced us with such rare, lovely weather; we determined it should not go to waste. Would you join us?"

Emma watched him expectantly, and even Mr. Haddock looked as if he was holding out hope.

"I would love to," he said as he accepted his coat from the servant.

Mr. Liely smiled and led the group outside.

Sarah handed Jackson a napkin, giving him a small smile, and walked outside. She took Mr. Liely's offered arm. The gentleman had one of his sisters on each arm; he walked out the gate and called over his shoulder for the other two to follow when they pleased.

"Shall we?" Mr. Haddock asked.

"Yes," the young man replied as he set off.

They fell in step with each other, neither taking the lead to catch up with the other members of their party.

"What did your sister give you?"

Jackson unfolded the napkin to reveal a slice of bread smeared with butter. He smiled and pulled a piece off. Chewing it, he offered the gentleman some. He declined. "I slept through breakfast," he explained. "She must have thought I would be hungry."

"That was kind of her."

"Yes," he agreed; silence lapped over then as they continued walking, and Jackson finished the bread, appeasing part of his stomach's complaints.

Dusting his hands off, he stuffed the napkin in his coat pocket and studied the late morning. It truly was good weather, quite the blessing. Weak rays of sunlight filtered through the dark, heavy clouds and highlighted the brilliantly verdant grass. Mist sat petulantly above the ground, refusing to budge. It cloaked him in damp coldness, but the sun managed to stave off the worst of it.

Jennifer loved this weather. For some reason, she saw romance in the mist. He just saw limited vision; even now he had lost sight of Mr. Liely and his sisters. At least the sun was streaming it away slowly now. His mind wandered back to Jennifer. She should be visiting soon. She had said something about coming after the holidays, hadn't she?

He'd have to write to her.

A clearing throat pulled him from his mind. "How was your Christmas?" Mr. Haddock asked.

Jackson swallowed. Does he know about what I said to his aunt? Deciding to play it safe, he answered, "Well enough. Trying though, as the holidays always seem to be. Yours?"

"It was quite…" he paused for a moment until Jackson thought he wasn't going to finish. "Enlightening," he ended.

Enlightening?

"I—" his voice hitched. He frowned and yawned in the back of his throat, stretching out the resilient muscles. "I want to thank you, for everything you have done for my family. Mary told me what you did. I know she should not have, but she did. And Emma, you brought Mr. Liely back. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for my family. I'm sure if they knew everything, you would never hear the end of their gratitude."

Mr. Haddock paused in his gait. His hand darted out to grab ahold of Jackson's wrist. He froze. The gentleman let go, looking fearful that he had overstepped his boundaries. "You—you must know," he said quietly.

"Know what?"

"Nothing against your family, at all, I do not mean anything against them I—ehm—I just…everything I did, it was for you. I only had you in mind," he said, the words rushing from his lips. He shifted his weight back and forth. "I—My feelings I confessed back in October have not changed. If yours have not either, please, let me know, and I will drop this. I won't speak of this again. But, if they have—I had no reason to believe, but I heard my aunt expressing her indignation at your words. She would not share it all, but what I heard...it allowed me—No, I finally allowed myself to hope that perhaps..." Mr. Haddock took a shaky breath. "Please, just let me know where your feelings stand."

Jackson opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His jaw clacked shut. He could see the light dim in the gentleman's eyes as he pulled back. Panic stilled his heart. His hand slipped out and grasped the gentleman's, entwining their fingers. He squeezed. "I cannot say when things changed, not for certain. All know is that they have. I had feared your feelings had, though. I never gave you a reason to stay steadfast."

Cheeks pinched green eyes together as a lopsided smile tugged at Mr. Haddock's lips. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Jackson's. "Always," he whispered; his warm breath tickled the skin it touched, drawing a blush out.

Not trusting his voice, the young man only squeezed the hand still in his grasp tighter as they leaned away from each other.

The gentleman reached out and lightly brushed against the scab on his bottom lip. "What happened?"

Jackson gave a breathy laugh. "Worry."

"On my account?"

His silence was the only answer that Mr. Haddock needed.

"I am sorry for any worry caused on my part. It was not intended. I was trying to minimize it, if you would believe that. With the gift and all. Well, any you might feel. It worsened mine until I heard my aunt," he gave a low, nervous laugh as he pulled his hand back and rubbed his neck. "Speaking of which, how did you enjoy it?"

"I must confess I have yet to open it. I just..." his voice faltered and fell away.

Suppressed laughter shook the gentleman's lanky frame. "May I suggest you open it when we return? It might put your mind at ease, if my words have not done so already. Your mind might have been calmer earlier if you had opened it."

Before Jackson could respond, Mr. Haddock looked over his shoulder and stepped away; his hand slipped from his grasp. He missed his presence, but when he looked over his shoulder to see the three forgotten members of their party, he understood. They rejoined together and headed back down the lane the way they had come from.

Once they returned to the house, he excused himself from the company and headed up to his room, Mr. Haddock's smile nipping at his heels. He snatched the box from underneath his pillow and opened it with a shaking hand. There was the answer he had been wanting and tormenting himself over. A thin, silver ring had been tucked into a bed of cloth.