She slept fitfully that night. The argument she had with Pietro had upset her greatly, and she wondered to herself why he had been so cruel, if the man she had come to know, the man she cared for, had truly been hiding his true self all along.
She heard a knock that roused her from sleep. "Miss?"
She opened her eyes and shifted on the bed. "What is it, Ophelia?"
"Your manuscript was delivered this morning by Sir Pietro Eisenhardt, but I didn't want to wake you early."
"All the same, Ophelia, thank you. Just leave it on the desk."
"The letter too?"
That piqued her interest. "Yes, the letter too."
Ophelia left the room, and Anna Marie slipped out of bed, finding the manuscript tied up neatly, with a sealed letter on top. She hesitated before opening the letter and reading it, her eyes scanning the words.
Dear Anna Marie,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. Your father made evident to me that in my present economic condition, I was not in a position to provide for you, and to this, I agreed. He also asked me to break your heart, to take the blame, and to this, I agreed too. By this time, surely, I have accomplished both tasks. But know this. When I can prove to your father that all I ask of him is his consent, and nothing more, then and only then, will I come back for you.
Yours ever,
Pietro
"Ophelia!" She called for her maid. "Get my coat. Now."
She made haste to the hotel where Pietro and Wanda had been staying, hoping they hadn't left yet. Hoping he was still here. Hoping….
"Pietro and Wanda Eisenhardt? Which rooms are they in?" She asked the front desk clerk.
"106 and 107." The clerk supplied. Anna Marie ran towards the rooms before he could stop her. "Wait! Miss!"
She ran down the hall to the room he indicated, and walked briskly through the foyer.
"Pietro?"
She was met with the chatter of the maids who were cleaning the room, changing the sheets. Their laughter died when they saw Anna Marie, looking for the Freiherr.
"I'm sorry, miss. They checked out early this morning."
She nodded, disappointed. "Thank you."
He's gone.
She walked slowly out of the room, heart heavy. She felt a headache coming on, no doubt from the rush of emotions and adrenaline.
"Anna Marie."
Her head turned at that voice, that inflection, the way he said her name in his German accent.
Pietro.
There was shock on her face as she realized he wasn't gone. He was still here.
"I….I couldn't leave. Wanda is gone, back to Prussia, but I….I could not leave you." He came closer.
"Why?" She asked.
"Because….despite your father's disapproval, despite my better judgment, I find myself consumed by you. I think of you, in the most inopportune moments throughout the day." He was closer still, speaking in soft tones to her. "I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine, Anna Marie. And if that link were to be broken, either by distance or by time, then my heart would cease to beat and I would die." He paused. "And you….would soon forget about me."
"Never." She breathed, shaking her head. "I would never forget you…."
She tilted her head upwards, the gentlest brush of her lips against his, and he seemed to hesitate, to still for a moment before he returned her kiss, like she was a delicate treasure, something he wished not to break.
The kiss was perfect, in her mind. There was no one else, at that moment, who she could feel such love for.
He escorted her towards the front of the hotel, and she had every intention of waiting with him until he could catch the train, to spend as much time as she could with him until he had to leave.
When they arrived at the front desk, she was met with a man she recognized, a blonde man with a mustache.
"Mister Creed?" She questioned.
He had a grim look on his face as he took off his hat out of respect.
"Miss Darkholme….I'm so sorry to be the one to deliver this news. Your father is dead."