Roswell Fanatics

<center>Into Dust</center>



Disclaimer: I own nothing. Liz, Max and all other characters you know belong to Melinda Metz, Jason K. and the UPN/WB. Esther’s all mine, though. The Edgeworth Boarding School for Girls in Baltimore has indeed existed (and maybe still does exist?), but since it was extremely difficult to find any information concerning this school, I decided to just borrow its name.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE

Summary: Set in America around 1880. Elizabeth’s sister passes away when Elizabeth is ten years old. Elizabeth’s parents send her away to a boarding school, where she meets Maria. They grow up and eventually, Elizabeth gets a job as a governess for Maxwell Evans, a wealthy, single father.

This story will include supernatural happenings (Elizabeth is clairvoyant and sees things no one else sees).

Author’s Note: This story is… different… I started it over a year ago, and only got to chapter 3. Back then, it was called Haunted Mind. I’ve decided to give it another try and start all over. A lot of things will be different from Haunted Mind.

This might get dark and slightly angsty. I just thought I’d warn you beforehand. It will concern supernatural matters as well, so if that’s not your thing, you really should reconsider reading this.

I'll try to update every Monday, but we all know how good I am at keeping to my schedules.

<center>***</center>

<center>Prologue</center>

Pittsburgh, September 1870

Amid an ocean of green, underneath a darkened sky, the two girls lay. Thousands of stars adorned the misty blackness above them, and, as she weaved her fingers through her sister’s, Elizabeth idly wondered just how many there were.

Their parents were fighting again. Their loud voices drifted through the evening sky, drowned out the crickets’ chirping, the river’s steady streaming. A door slammed shut and was roughly opened again. Elizabeth held her breath as she heard her mother’s panicked cries, her father’s angry yelling.

“It’s about me, isn’t it?” she sadly concluded, turning her face to look at her sister. The grass tickled her cheeks, the points pricking her skin. “They’re fighting about me again.”

Esther’s light eyes sought out hers, a small, sympathetic smile resting upon her lips. “They’re just worried about you,” she whispered, and reached out to caress Elizabeth’s cheek. “They want what is best for you.”

Elizabeth pulled her knees up to her chest, pursing her lips together. “I don’t want them to fight, Esther.” Her chest seemed awfully heavy, loaded with guilt and countless questions, and she rolled closer to her sister, crept into the opened arms that never failed to offer support when she was in need of it. “Why do they keep fighting?”

Soothingly rubbing her hands over her sister’s back, Esther gave her a caring smile. “Because they love you.”

They were quiet for a little while, and though Elizabeth wanted to keep the conversation going – if only to drown out her parents’ voices – she wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Esther suddenly pushed herself into a sitting position, her long, silvery hair sliding down, framing her delicate features. “They’ll let you stay,” she whispered pressingly, staring down at Elizabeth, “if you promise not to tell anyone what you see, Liz.”

“Really?” Elizabeth sat up as well, unveiled hope flaring up in her eyes. “I’ll never tell anyone again, Es. I promise. It was a mistake.” She peered up at her sister, nodding her head as she rushed out the words almost as if to lend them credibility. “I swear, Esther. Never again.”

<center>***</center>

Elizabeth: I'll send you the last chapters of UB as soon as I can. I keep forgetting it. I'll also send you the pictures of RJ I promised I'd send weeks ago. Glad to have you reading this!

frenchkiss70, Jadeling, Meghan, Lizza, roswellluver, Lana (*hugs*), Ebony, I love Orli... Thank you for your kind replies!

Love,
Stefanie

<center>***</center>

<center>Chapter 1</center>

Baltimore, August 1871

“And lastly, it is strictly forbidden to be out of bed after curfew.” While handing Elizabeth her new school uniform, Mrs. Donahue glared angrily at her, almost as though she had already crossed the rules.

Elizabeth squirmed uneasily under Mrs. Donahue’s scrutinizing gaze and managed to give her head a shaky nod. “I understand, Mrs. Donahue,” she whispered quietly.

“That was all,” Mrs. Donahue said curtly, waving her hand dismissively. “You can go now, Miss Parker.”

After a brief curtsy, Elizabeth gathered her skirt in her right hand and walked out of Mrs. Donahue’s office as quickly as she could. The old woman’s eyes frightened her, and her raspy, high voice caused shivers to run down her spine.

She was supposed to go to the West Wing, where her sleeping quarters were, but she had no idea how to get there. The dark hallways all seemed alike – surrounded by bare, gray walls with high, small windows – and the few rooms she did see were empty. She took a wrong turn at least twice, but at last she ended up in, what she supposed was, the West Wing, and the room she shared with eleven other girls.

It didn’t surprise her to see that all the beds but one had already been taken. The free one stood at the end of the room, near an opened window that was framed with billowing curtains. With a sigh, Elizabeth dropped her bag to the ground and threw herself upon the bed. It veered slightly, and, as she closed her eyes, she imagined that she was at home, on the lawn, lying next to Esther.

The cold wind that blew through the opened window kept her from keeping up that illusion, though, and she desperately wanted to close it, but Mrs. Donahue had distinctly forbidden her to open or close any windows without permission of a nun or teacher. Instead, she pulled her dress and under dress over her head, folded them carefully and slipped into her nightgown. It was new, and the material was crispy and sweet-smelling, but the lace fringes were itchy and uncomfortable.

She slid underneath the blankets, and, after whispering a hasted prayer, closed her eyes. Several minutes later, Esther was with her. Elizabeth didn’t even need to open her eyes to know Esther had come.

“Why did you leave?” Esther demanded in an accusing tone. She was straddling the window sill: one foot dangled dangerously high above the ground while the other touched the floor of the bedroom with the tips of its toes. Esther's silvery hair shone brightly in the moon’s pale light and her thin summer dress danced upon the wind.

Elizabeth sat up straight, clutching the blankets to her chest to ward off the cold wind. “Father and mother made me,” she answered apogetically. “They said it would be better.”

“You have to come home,” Esther said. “I miss you.”

Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, Elizabeth hesitantly shook her head . “I can’t, Es.” She rested her arms upon her knees, then laid her head upon them. “You can still come here, can’t you?”

Esther shrugged lightly, her gray eyes deep and pensive. “I can,” she said, “but I like it better at home.”

“Me, too,” Elizabeth whispered wistfully. “Me, too. But I can come home just before Christmas, and with –” She abruptly stopped talking when she heard the door swing open, and a small, blonde girl stepped into the room.

“Who were you talking to?” the girl asked curiously as she looked around the room.

Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. Esther had disappeared, and she didn’t really know what to say. “No one,” she lied quietly.

The girl neared her slowly and plummeted down on the bed next to her. “Do you miss your parents?”

Shrugging, Elizabeth averted her eyes. “A little.”

“The first days are the hardest,” the girl confided her, “after a week or two, the pain will get less.”

Non-conservatively, Elizabeth nodded and shifted in her bed, turning her back towards the girl.

“I’m Maria DeLuca,” the girl introduced herself, not noticing Elizabeth’s lack of interest, or noticing and not caring. She walked around Elizabeth’s bed and sunk to her knees to bring her face at the same height as Elizabeth’s eyes.

Her extended hand hovered in front of Elizabeth’s face, who hesitantly reached out and shook it. “Elizabeth Parker,” she whispered quietly, feeling strangely connected to the blonde girl. Her uniform’s skirt was a bit too short, Elizabeth noticed, but the uniform itself wasn’t as awful as she had expected it to be.

“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth,” Maria said, smiling brightly. “The others are still in the common room, but I think they’ll come up soon. You better pretend to be asleep if you do not wish to talk with them.”

Not quite knowing how to react, Elizabeth gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Maria replied in a light voice, “no problem.”

Elizabeth blew out a soft sigh and closed her eyes. She could still feel Esther’s presence – somewhere nearby, probably in the school’s garden – but her sister was reluctant to show herself when other people were close by, and Elizabeth didn’t expect her to return.

When the other girls entered the room, Elizabeth didn’t need to pretend to be sleeping – she had long since fallen asleep.

<center>***</center>

Maria had been right.

The first days upon arriving at Edgeworth were the hardest. The girls treated her less than friendly, and there were very many rules and habits she had to learn. She wasn’t used to the morning prayers and the thick soup they served for dinner. Maria was her rock, and slowly but surely, the other girls started to accept her as well. She didn't see Esther as often as she had seen her back home, but the nights Esther did come to her, she stayed long, until Elizabeth would at last fall asleep without wanting to.

Her teacher, Miss O’Connell, was a friendly, young woman who in vain tried to show her class the use of standing straight and walking gracefully. Elizabeth could stand straight for two minutes, but soon, the lesson was forgotten, as she was chasing Maria through the school’s gardens again.

On her seventh day at Edgeworth, Elizabeth received a letter from her parents. It had been sent one day after she had left for Baltimore, and her father wrote how much he and her mother already missed her.

The point of Elizabeth's quill screeched over the paper of her copybook as she wrote a letter back to them – she told them she missed them, too. For a moment, she considered writing down how horrible her principal was, and how awful the food tasted, but Maria had warned her Mrs. Donahue checked the outgoing mail.

“Liz?” Maria appeared in the doorway, a broad smile upon her lips. “Miss O’Connell is taking us to the woods! Are you coming?”

Elizabeth quickly covered her letter with blotting paper to absorb the wet ink and screwed the lid upon her ink bottle. “Just a second,” she answered as she folded the letter. “Is it cold outside?”

Maria shrugged. “Not very. No need for your cape.”

Slipping off her bed, Elizabeth took her letter and laid it upon her bedside table. When she reached for Maria’s hand, an image flashed through her mind. Maria was sitting in the darkness, her cheeks tear-streaked, her eyes red. A deep gash ran across her bared leg and blood was dripping onto the moss ground in a slow, steady rhythm.

Elizabeth shook her head to get rid of the image. “Stay with the group,” she implored her friend. “Please, Maria.”

Maria gave her a funny look, but still nodded in agreement. “Sure. Now, come on, hurry,” she smiled as she dragged Liz with her, “Miss O’Connell is waiting.”

<center>***</center>

The woods that surrounded Edgeworth were dark and stretched far. Miss O’Connell showed them animals and plants they’d never seen before, but during the entire trip, Elizabeth had to think of what she’d seen when touching Maria. The image of her crying never left her mind, and only when they’d returned to the school building, she felt as though she could breathe again.

Miss O’Connell pulled her aside just before dinner, her brown eyes concerned. “Elizabeth? Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Elizabeth nodded slowly, noticing how Maria kept a seat vacant for her. “Of course,” she said absent-mindedly.

Hesitantly, Miss O’Connell took Elizabeth’s hand. “I… I heard what happened to your sister. I’m sorry.”

Her heart constricting painfully, Elizabeth nodded again. Talking about Esther made her uncomfortable.

“If you ever need to talk…” Miss O’Connell offered, giving her a significant look, the hope in her voice barely concealed.

“Thank you, Miss O’Connell,” Elizabeth answered politely, but her mind couldn’t let go of the image of Maria, hurt. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Miss O’Connell smiled kindly and tucked a lock of the dark curls that had escaped her knot during the walk through the woods behind her ear. “All right. Now, go! Maria’s waiting!”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said again, curtsied quickly and hurried towards Maria. The flash she’d received didn’t leave her mind once during the rest of the evening. Frankly, it had startled her. She hadn't had them for a very long time. In fact, after she’d promised Esther not to tell anyone what she saw, the flashes had stopped.

Elizabeth desperately hoped that this flash was an incident, and didn’t mean that she was starting to see things again. Deep in her heart, though, she knew that she was wrong.

<center>***</center>

Thank you so much for your feedback! I'm a little bit tired, and everything I've written in the last five paragraphs might be somewhat... poor... I slept less than three hours last night. I just wanted to finish this chapter really badly.

Just on a side note: what’s happening to Liz has nothing to do with the school she’s attending. Liz is clairvoyant and she can’t control what she sees and when she sees it.

<center>Chapter 2</center>

Baltimore, August 1871

Elizabeth awoke with a start, her heart pounding furiously. The room was enveloped in darkness and filled with the peaceful sleeping sounds the other girls made. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the blackness of the room, and she pushed herself into a sitting position. The window was still open, the drapes flapping in the light, late summer breeze that blew through it. Esther was sitting on the windowsill again, her face pale, her cheeks hollow.

“How could you tell her?”

Startled, Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat. “I had to, Es. She could have got hurt.”

Esther’s eyes blazed hotly as she slipped off the sill. “You never told me what was going to happen, Liz. You didn’t tell me to stay with father and mother.”

The blood drained from Elizabeth’s face as she watched the anger on her sister’s face grow. “I didn’t see,” she weakly defended herself, tears burning in her eyes. “I swear, Esther! I didn’t know it was going to happen!”

Esther nodded sardonically. “Right,” she mocked accusingly. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone what you saw, Liz. You promised me!”

“But…” Elizabeth furiously wiped at the tears running down her cheeks, “she was hurt, Esther. She was hurt so badly! And she was crying… and alone… and so scared! I had to tell her!”

Esther’s hair glistened in the moonlight that streamed through the window. Her lips were drawn into a tight, angry line, but the storm that had previously raged in her eyes seemed to be calming down. “You couldn’t have done anything to prevent it from happening.”

“But I did,” Elizabeth protested as she crept closer to her sister. “I did prevent it from happening, Esther. Maria’s all right. Nothing happened.”

“It already has happened, Liz,” Esther whispered in a concerned tone, but her eyes didn’t show any of the sympathy that sounded in her voice.

“It wasn’t the future you saw.”

<center>***</center>

“I hate this,” Maria complained as she drew her needle through the cotton. “Why can’t we do something fun for a change?”

Elizabeth shrugged and examined her own cloth of cotton. The flowers she’d embroidered seemed slightly withered. “Because they strive to bore us.”

Snorting, Maria raised her eyebrows. “That makes sense.” She looked at Elizabeth’s nearly finished cloth and gasped in delight. “You’re good at this! Why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she pushed her cloth and needle into Elizabeth’s hands. “Please, Liz? Pretty, pretty please?”

With a dubious look, Elizabeth took Maria’s cloth. “Well… all right,” she gave in and picked up Maria’s needle to finish her embroidery. “If Miss O’Connell complains, though…”

“I know, I know,” Maria said with her hands raised in surrender, “it isn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with it.”

While diligently working on Maria’s embroidery, Elizabeth shot her friend a hesitant glance. “Do you have any scars?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Maria curiously lifted her eyebrows, and stared at Elizabeth, who suddenly found her embroidery very interesting. “Yes,” she finally answered, “I have some scars. Why?”

“On your legs?”

“One,” Maria admitted, and lifted the brown skirt of her uniform, then lowered her knee high sock to show the scarred skin of her right leg. A long, reddish line ran across her shin – from her knee to her ankle – and Elizabeth winced at the sight.

Maria pulled her sock up again, her eyes downcast. “It’s ugly, isn’t it?” Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and Elizabeth felt guilty for asking about it.

“It isn’t that bad,” Elizabeth lied uncomfortably, slanting a sympathetic glance at Maria. “Does it still hurt?”

Shrugging, Maria sat down, planted her hands on the blankets of Elizabeth’s bed and swung her legs back and forth. “Not really,” she said. “It’s just… hideous.”

“How… how did you get it?” Elizabeth curiously looked at her friend, uncertain if she was treading on personal grounds. “What happened?”

“I fell,” Maria confided her. “It happened in my first week at Edgeworth, a year ago? I… I felt miserable. I decided to run away – I missed my mother so badly.” She played with the laced hem of her blouse, a painful expression crossing her face. “I got lost in the woods… and I fell. And I was so alone, Liz.” Her eyes sought Elizabeth’s as she swallowed difficultly. “I never felt more alone than I did then.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whispered quietly.

“They say Mrs. Donahue found me. I can’t remember. After falling… everything’s just a blur.” Maria clasped her hands together and dropped them into her lap. “But it’s all in the past now. Thank God,” she added in a small voice.

Elizabeth laid her embroidery aside and reached out to hug Maria. “Thank God,” she agreed, and as she held Maria, she tried to get rid of the feeling of guilt rising in her chest.

It never seemed to lessen, though.

<center>***</center>

Baltimore, September 1871

“So… how are we going to do this?” Elizabeth asked tensely, watching carefully as Maria laid out the cards. “Isn’t it… dangerous?”

Maria snorted in a very unbecoming way and laid down the last card. “Of course not. They’re just… cards.”

“Tarot cards,” Elizabeth corrected her uncomfortably. “If Mrs. Donahue finds out about this…”

“She won’t,” Maria said in a confident voice. “Now, do you want to pick a card, or should I take one first?”

Elizabeth hesitantly looked at the cards spread out on the grass. They seemed harmless enough, but inside of her, something was churning, and she had never felt more nervous in her entire life. She gazed up at Maria, then down at the cards again. Shadows danced across the grass and over the cards, caused by waving branches and rustling leaves that blocked the sunlight. “You go first.”

“All right,” Maria agreed. Her hand hovered above the cards for the briefest of moments, then moved down to pick a card.

“Oh!” Gasping, Maria quickly turned the card around again, a rosy blush crawling up her cheeks.

Elizabeth curiously tried to get the card, but Maria quickly moved it out of her reach. They struggled for a little while, until Elizabeth, out of breath, asked, “What does it say?”

Visibly hesitating, Maria slowly handed it to her, her gaze averted in embarrassment.

“The Lovers?!”

Elizabeth laughed loudly, relishing in the deep red blush covering Maria’s cheeks. She felt slightly bad about laughing, but Maria’s expression was priceless. “Who? Who do you like?” she demanded in a gasped giggle, and Maria’s face turned an even darker shade of red.

“No one,” Maria hissed fervently, but it was easy to see she was lying. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, and, at last, Maria threw up her hands in defeat. “All right,” she conceded ashamed, “the gardener’s son. Michael.”

Giggling, Elizabeth bend towards Maria conspiratorially. “Michael? I thought you hated him!”

“That’s why you can’t tell anyone,” Maria decidedly replied. “The only reason he notices me is because he thinks I hate him. And I do,” she added in afterthought, her green eyes twinkling. “He can be so very annoying.”

She gathered the tarot cards in her hands, shuffled them and spread them out again. “It’s your turn,” she grinned, her complexion slowly losing its dark red blush. “Let’s see what the future has in store for you.”

Elizabeth hesitated briefly. Something inside of her was compelled to grab a card – any card – but she was scared of what she would see.

“Come on,” Maria encouraged her with a playful smile, “it’s harmless. Pick one, Liz.”

Elizabeth’s hand was drawn towards a card, and it was simply impossible to deny the strong urge that told her to take it. Her fingers grazed over the smooth material of the card’s back, and, while picking it up, she turned it around.

She didn’t quite know what she had expected to see, but when her eyes were met by the black, empty eye sockets of the Death, she dropped the card in shock.

Staring at it with a mixture of fear and disgust in her eyes, she tried to control her breathing. Her mother’s voice sounded in her ear – a soft, careless whisper in which no words were said, and yet, so many significant things were uttered.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Maria said in a small voice after a long and rather solemn silence. “It’s just a game. A stupid game. No one believes in it anyway.”

“It does,” Elizabeth breathed out, fighting the throbbing ache in the back of her mind. “It does mean something.” Tears stung her eyes, and she angrily threw the card away. The wind blew the card right back to her, though, and Death’s face maliciously grinned up at hers.

“No,” Maria protested determinedly and took the card. She tore it into two, four, eight pieces and threw them away. “See?” she persisted. “It doesn’t mean anything, Liz. Not at all.”

Swallowing, Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she whispered, frightened. “You’re wrong.”

<center>***</center>

Thank you so much for your feedback! I know this story is different, and I didn't expect many people to like it, so I'm really glad you do. *hugs*

I'll be getting my diploma tonight... exciting!

<center>Chapter 3</center>

Baltimore, October 1871

It was on the first day of October that a strange illness befell Elizabeth. She felt incredibly tired, and her skin tingled all over. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, determined not to move, not even when Miss Greenfield, the school nurse, asked her so. Someone pushed a cold hand against her forehead, and she could hear the vague buzz of worried voices that hung in the air.

The hand slipped off her forehead and dropped down in an attempt to take of Elizabeth’s medallion. “No,” she rasped breathily, hitting the invading hand away. It surrendered easily and backed off, and Elizabeth blew out a relieved sigh. “No…”

“Julie,” she heard Miss Greenfield tell Miss O’Connell, “you ought to go back to your class. I’ll let you know the second her condition changes.”

“All right,” Miss O’Connell agreed, and a hand gave Elizabeth’s a light squeeze, then carefully laid it back upon the blanket. “Come on, Maria, let’s go.”

The voices seemed to be coming from afar, as though they had to go through a barrier in order to reach her. Elizabeth muttered something incoherent, her chest burning. A person – she assumed it was Miss Greenfield – wiped the sweat off her forehead, while whispering some sweet words in her ear.

Then, all of a sudden, all sound had fled the room.

Esther was with her. She could feel it. Opening her eyes, she beseechingly looked up at her sister.

“It hurts,” she lamented faintly, tears stinging her eyes. “It hurts so much, Esther…”

Her head throbbed painfully, and as she tried to focus her gaze on her sister, her world seemed to tilt. Almost as though she knew this, Esther tilted her head as well; until it was in line with Elizabeth’s vision.

“Do you know what it is like to fall through ice?” Esther asked, her eyes spitting fire. It was odd to see her in the afternoon, while the sun still shone. Her body seemed more translucent than at night, her skin almost sickly pale, her lips bluish and parched. “Do you know what it is like to drown; to feel ice cold water flood your lungs?”

Elizabeth whimpered quietly and closed her eyes against the pain coursing through her body. Esther confused her. What was she telling her? Why was she being so mean?

“No,” Esther continued seemingly unmoved, “I don’t think so. So don’t tell me that it hurts. You don’t know what hurt is.”

Gasping as another pang of pain sliced through her, Elizabeth reached out for her sister. “Es… please…”

Esther neared her, her dress flapping around her thin legs as she walked closer. It clung around her, the material barely hiding the beginning curves of her slender hips, her small breasts. “You should have seen it, Liz. Why didn’t you?”

A wail was thorn from Esther’s throat, and as she started crying, her long, silver hair was lifted from her shoulders, carried by a wind that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Esther… Esther… please…” Elizabeth gasped, watching with wide eyes as Esther started pulling at her own hair. “Esther, stop… Stop it!” The air that rushed through her throat seemed to tear the tender tissue apart, and she cried out in pain. “Es, Esther… Please!”

And then – all of a sudden – there was silence.

<center>***</center>

She wasn’t sure exactly where she was. It was early in the morning – she could see the rising sun in the distance – but the mountains around her were still enveloped in darkness. A tiny spot moved a little below her, and when she took a better look, she distinguished two horses and a carriage.

Suddenly, she was there, inside the carriage, sitting upon the red, cushy bench. Her mother and father sat across her, her mother’s head leaning against her father’s chest. They looked exhausted, hollow cheeks and dark circles under their eyes telltales of their fatigue.

“Mom?” she whispered reverentially, reaching out to touch her mother’s face. “Is that you, mom?”

Her mother didn’t seem to hear her, lost in a deep slumber. Her eyes remained closed, her hand remained clasped around Elizabeth’s father.

Leaning forward, Elizabeth reached out for her father. “Dad?” Her hand went right through her father’s arm, and startled, she pulled it back. “Dad!”

Where were they? Had her parents died, just like Esther? Was that the reason she couldn’t touch them? Was that the reason they didn’t hear her?

Suddenly, a bright, silvery flash lit the small confines of the carriage. Her mother jolted awake, and her father’s eyes flew open. “Esther,” her mother breathed out, amazed. Her red curls shone vividly in the silver light. “It’s Esther, Jeffrey! She’s here!”

Elizabeth watched helplessly as her mother slowly started crying, and her father tried to soothe her. “Esther is dead, honey. She is gone,” he told his wife, but a flash of doubt crossed his face, and Elizabeth realized he no longer was so sure.

“She is here…” her mother whispered, “she is here, Jeffrey… I can feel her. Can’t you see the light? Can’t you see it?”

“I see it,” her father admitted, caressing his wife’s teary cheek with the back of his hand. “It is a natural phenomenon, I am sure. It must have something to do with the rising of the sun. Pray, do not cry, Nancy…”

Elizabeth reached out for her mother, but went straight through her. She stood up with difficulty – the carriage jolted horribly – and tried to look through the window. Almost right after she got up, though, another bright flash shone, and the horses neighed nervously. The world seemed to be turned upside down, and, after the briefest of moments of absolute silence and stillness, they plunged to the earth far below them.

<center>***</center>

“I think she’s coming to…”

Her eyelids were heavy, so very heavy, and she had to struggle to open them. A soothing hand caressed her forehead, while another held one of her own hands. Coughing, Elizabeth’s body arched off the bed, her muscles tense.

“Esther,” she gasped, her eyes wide. Breathing heavily, she looked up in Miss O’Connell’s face. “My parents…”

“It is all right,” Miss O’Connell hushed her, her eyes understanding. “It is all right, Elizabeth. You are safe with us. Go back to sleep.”

Shaking her head, Elizabeth tried to fight the hands that laid her back down. “No,” she breathed out, distending her eyes. “No, I have to help them. You do not understand!”

“She is ailing,” Miss Greenfield concernedly concluded and carefully closed Elizabeth’s eyes with her fingers. “Go back to sleep, dear,” she whispered, her breath stirring Elizabeth’s skin. “Everything will be fine in the morning.”

But at that moment, Elizabeth thought nothing would ever be fine again.

<center>***</center>

Oh, thank you so much, Lana! *hugs* You're so sweet! I always love reading your feedback. It’s so kind and… so very flattering.

Blue*Soul: I'm so honored you're reading this. I love No Regrets! Thank you for your feedback!

Hi Janelle! I hope it didn't disappoint!

frenchkiss70: Ah, you'll all find out in due time. Merci beaucoup!

Ebony: thank you so much, I'm glad you like it! I sent you a PM back.

Carol... ah, thank you honey! You're too kind! *hugs*

Elizabeth: Very good questions... and I guess you'll find out when the time is ready. I didn't come further than the last chapter, so from now on, everything you read must be new. *hugs* Thank you for your fb!

roswellluver: thank you for your feedback!

Juliet: Oh, I'm so glad you remembered! Liz’s sister was originally named Star, so that’s pretty similar to Stella. Esther actually means Star – that’s why I choose it. I thought Star was too… weird… especially for the time period we’re talking about. Esther is a more usual name, and it just fitted her better! Thank you!

Thank you all so much for your kind words!

Oh, and I know some of you asked before, and I didn’t want to answer you before I was sure, but I think Max is going to enter this story in two, maybe three chapters. Both Liz and he will be adults, though. This means we’ll make a little jump through time.

Hugs,
Stefanie

<center>Chapter 4</center>

Baltimore, October 1871

The window was stained.

Residues of last week’s rain stuck to the glass, hindering her reflection.

Had she changed in any way? Would people be able to tell she was an orphan? Elizabeth reached up and touched her face, studying her image in the window. She didn’t look any different than yesterday. Her hair was as long and dark as it had always been. Her eyes were still large and brown. Her lips and nose didn’t seem to have changed, either. Her hand slid down as she leaned her forehead against the cool glass.

She was still very much herself. Surely, something had to be different? Some outward sign indicating she was all alone, without a mother, father and siblings?

Her eyes searched the eyes of her reflection, but found nothing.

Arms slid around her waist, and she could feel Maria embracing her from behind. “I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly. “I’m so very sorry, Liz.”

And Elizabeth didn’t know what Maria was sorry for. For not having believed her when she had said her parents were in danger? Or was it just something she said, something any person would say when a friend’s beloved passed away?

Determinedly, she bit down a sob as Maria held her tighter and rested her chin upon her shoulder. She wouldn’t cry – not here, not now, not when everyone could see her. She’d cry tonight, in her bed, when the rest was asleep, and Esther would be there to comfort her. Only then, she would be able to find her peace.

Maria’s green eyes suddenly found Elizabeth’s reflected ones in the window. “Will you leave?” she asked anxiously, her voice edged with panic.

Elizabeth’s heart full out stopped in her chest. Startled, she stiffened, dropping her gaze in thought. Her parents would no longer pay for her education. Where would she go? Who would take care of her? “I don’t know,” she breathed out in a frightened whisper. “I don’t know, Maria.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Maria lamented, her grip on Elizabeth tightening. “You should stay.”

Elizabeth barely heard what Maria said, her eyes no longer staring at her own reflection, but right through it, behind it, at the dark woods that surrounded Edgeworth.

“I’m sorry,” Maria suddenly apologized, choking. “I’m being selfish.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and, carefully, she turned Elizabeth around to hug her.

Unseeing, Elizabeth underwent Maria’s tight hug.

The woods weren’t the only thing she’d seen through the window.

Esther had been there, standing in the gardens, her dress drenched with rainwater, her hair flapping wildly in the wind.

She had smiled.

<center>***</center>

Baltimore, November 1971

After her parents’ death, everything seemed to have changed. Miss O’Connell followed her more closely than ever and Maria never seemed to leave her side. As it turned out, Elizabeth’s aunt, Mrs. Miller, had gained the custody over her.

Elizabeth knew her vaguely – they’d once met on a party of her grandmother – and truth be told, didn’t really like her. The feeling seemed to be mutual, though, for Mrs. Miller decided to keep Elizabeth at Edgeworth. Not once, not even in the holidays, did she expect Elizabeth to return.

This, of course, came as a relief to Maria and Miss O’Connell. Elizabeth underwent all the changes rather detached. It was almost as though she wasn’t herself… as though she was living the life of someone else, a life she wasn’t meant to live.

Depressed, Elizabeth traced the writing on her parent’s letters. The pages’ corners were folded and slightly crumpled, showing how often she’d held them close to her, how often she’d read and reread them just to feel alive.

“You look gloomy.”

Startled, Elizabeth dropped the letter to her lap, her eyes darting up to Esther’s face. “I am.”

Esther sat down on Maria’s bed, folding her legs beneath her. Her eyes shone interestedly, and a smile played on her lips. “How come?”

“How do you think?” Elizabeth asked bitterly, putting away her letters. “I miss them, Es.”

With her eyebrows raised in disbelief, Esther leaned forward until her eyes were at the same level as Elizabeth’s. “Why?”

“Why?” Elizabeth dully repeated.

“Yes,” Esther pressed untouched, “why? They tried to keep us apart, Liz. They moved you to this…” she motioned at their surroundings with a disgusted gleam in her eyes, “…this hellhole… How can you miss them?”

Elizabeth looked up at her sister, blinking against the tears welling up in her eyes. “I loved them,” she whispered sadly. “That’s how.”

“Well, you still have me, little sister,” Esther said, bending to look Elizabeth deeper in her eyes.

Esther placed her hands upon Elizabeth’s shoulders, and though her hands didn’t go through Elizabeth’s skin, the touch was different from a mortal’s touch. It seemed colder… and lighter, almost as though a feather brushing over her skin. “I do,” Elizabeth agreed quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you went away as well, Es.”

Reaching into her dress, Elizabeth pulled up her medallion and opened it carefully. A lock of Esther’s silvery hair laid carefully embedded in the golden medallion, and Elizabeth touched it gingerly. “I wish I could really touch you,” she whispered wistfully.

When she looked up, Esther had disappeared.

<center>***</center>

Baltimore, February 1872

Shivering, Elizabeth drew her cape tighter around her body. Flames greedily licked at the charcoaled wood in the hearth, but they fought a lost battle against the cold, that steadily seemed to win ground.

Maria snuggled up to Elizabeth. “So… how will it end?” she asked curiously. “Will he realize his mistakes in time?”

Elizabeth smiled mysteriously. “Well…” she drew out slowly, grinning teasingly, “we’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the denouement.”

“Oh, you’re evil!” Maria exclaimed, throwing a pillow towards her friend’s head. “How on Earth can I sleep, not knowing whether Robert will be all right?”

“You’ll survive,” Elizabeth laughed, standing up. The common room was fairly empty – Cameron Russell and Madison Davis were the only others present, quietly talking in a corner of the room – and it was almost eight o’clock, which meant they were supposed to be in bed soon. “Let’s go,” she said, offering Maria a hand to help her up.

Maria took it, a smirk distorting her beautiful features. “You’re pure evil,” she muttered grumpily.

Giggling, Elizabeth pulled her into a tight embrace. “You know you love me.”

“Mmm…” Maria replied quasi-offended and waved her hand dismissively. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so sure, Liz.”

“Come on…” Elizabeth persisted, and started tickling Maria’s sides. “Not even a little bit?”

“No,” Maria gasped, biting on her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. Struggling, Maria made futile attempts to tickle Elizabeth back.

Giggling, they made their way to their sleeping quarters, and, while avoiding Maria's grasps, Elizabeth could’ve sworn she saw Esther. Her silvery hair shone in the pale moonlight streaming through the hallway windows, and her expression was less than friendly.

<center>***</center>

Hi! I unfortunately don't have enough time to thank you all personally, but I'd just like to say thank you to:

I love Orli, frenchkiss70 (merci! I still can't believe you faithfully read everything I write... it doesn't matter what I write... you're always there to read it, and you have no idea how amazing I think that is! ) Elizabeth (you're too clever! Thank you!!) Blue*Soul (PMS?! Thank you!!), Jadeling , Juliet (thank you so much!), Surfgirl02, Lana (sweetie... I don't think anyone has ever flattered me more than you have ), I am a dreamer, Ebony (I'm going to borrow Jane Austen tomorrow ), Linds (Oh sweetie, I do not deserve your feedback... I still owe you so much for so many stories! ) and roswellluver!

Thank you!

<center>Chapter 5</center>

She had never really liked the darkness. It held some mystical power over her, and it scared her more than she was willing to admit.

Quietly, she wandered down the hall, holding her breath and trying hard not to look at the shadows dancing across the walls. She shivered and cast a wary glance behind her, goosebumps arising on her arms.

A muffled sound rang through the stuffy air, and panicked, she glanced around – where had it come from?

She swallowed and held her candle in front of her, almost as if to ward off the danger she knew was lurking in the shades. Her hand grabbed the banister tightly, her knuckles whitening. Slowly, she descended the stairs, her nightgown rustling, the lace scraping over the tender tissue of her scar.

The candle’s flame flickered wildly, even though there was no wind at all – not even the slightest breeze. She took another careful step down the stairs when suddenly, the candle’s light dimmed altogether.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and fear snatched her by the throat whilst she desperately tightened her grip on the banister.

Something hit her back, and suddenly, she felt herself falling. Her arms swung wildly through the air as she tried to grab something – anything – to keep from plunging down, but all her hands caught was darkness, and all she felt was fear.

<center>***</center>

Baltimore, February 1872

Elizabeth awoke in the middle of the night, a tortured cry slipping past her lips. The silence around her seemed surreal, and it was as though she was desecrating it with her heavy breathing. For a moment, she basked in the pleasant assumption that she’d only been dreaming – she was fine, safely tucked away under the blankets of her bed – but a split second later, when a soft cry and a loud thud ricocheted through the air, the horrible realization hit her that what she had seen had been more than just a dream.

Panicking, she glanced at the bed beside her. The blankets were thrown back and Maria was gone, but Elizabeth could still see the slight imprint of Maria’s body on the mattress. Startled, she crept out of her bed and lit her candle with tremulous, uncooperative hands.

When she scurried through the hallway, on her way to the stairs, she bumped into another person, and let out a frightened yelp. “Maria?!” she breathed out, but the person had been too tall to be Maria. When she raised her candle, she recognized Miss O’Connell.

“Elizabeth? Are you all right? Did you fall?” Miss O’Connell, who looked entirely different in her nightgown than she did in her uniform, worriedly gazed down at her.

“I’m all right,” Elizabeth assured her, breathing heavily, still trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. “It’s Maria. She’s not in her bed. I don’t know where she is.”

“Oh Lord,” Miss O’Connell sighed concernedly, worry disgracing her otherwise so beautiful and carefree features. “Did you hear something falling, Elizabeth? I heard something falling – from the stairs to the kitchen, I think.”

Elizabeth gave her head a hesitant nod. Should she tell Miss O’Connell about what she’d seen, felt, in her dream? She was about to when a low wail sounded through the air.

Elizabeth’s ears perked up and Miss O’Connell turned around sharply. “Let’s go,” Miss O’Connell whispered determinedly. Elizabeth assumed she was trying to sound brave, but her voice had wavered, and when she had reached for Elizabeth’s candle, her hand had been trembling.

Carefully, they descended the stairs to the kitchen, following the sounds coming from the floor. Maria was lying on the ground, her arm angled in a seemingly impossible position, her face twisted in a pained grimace.

“Maria?! What happened?” Miss O’Connell hurried down the last steps of the stairs and kneeled down beside Maria. “Are you all right?”

Maria puffed out a soft moan as she looked up at them through watery eyes. “It hurts,” she bewailed. “My arm….”

Miss O’Connell took one fleeting look at it and then lit Maria’s fallen candle with Elizabeth’s. Even to Elizabeth, it was obvious Maria’s arm was broken – it was bent backwards and it was angled a little below her wrist.

“Here,” Miss O’Connell said while handing Elizabeth the candle, “get Miss Greenfield and let her know Maria has a fractured arm. Tell her to hurry.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Elizabeth answered quickly, and despite of her fears, she ran through the deserted hallways of Edgeworth to get Miss Greenfield. The run back was less frightening – after all, she had Miss Greenfield with her – and when they returned to Maria and Miss O’Connell, she noticed Miss O’Connell had helped Maria sit up.

Maria’s face was unbelievably pale, and a deep gash disgraced her pretty features. “What happened?” Miss Greenfield queried as she inspected Maria’s arm. “Did you just... fall?”

“I tripped,” Maria said, but when she carefully avoided Elizabeth’s gaze, Elizabeth knew she was lying.

Miss O’Connell shook her head questioningly as she tried to soothe Maria by stroking her hand. “You shouldn’t have been out of your bed at this ungodly hour,” she admonished Maria. Her face was stern, but her voice was laced with worry. “What were you doing?”

Ashamed, Maria dropped her gaze. “It was a bet,” she whispered embarrassedly. “Michael… He told me I wouldn’t dare to meet him in the gardens at night.”

“Maria!” Miss O’Connell gasped, shocked.

Maria ducked her head bashfully, her cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, Miss O’Connell,” she whispered.

Almost immediately after Maria’s apology, Mrs. Donahue descended the stairs, her nightgown clinging tightly to her podgy body. “What on earth is going on here?” At spotting Maria, she inhaled sharply, shock written all across her features. “Good Gracious… What happened to you?”

“I fell,” Maria weakly answered. The blush had fled from her face, and she looked even paler than before, her features ashen.

“You fell?!” A frown wrinkled Mrs. Donahue’s forehead, and her blue eyes piercingly stared down at Maria. “What were you doing out of bed at this hour of the night, young lady?”

Maria looked down at her hands, frightened.

“She was sleepwalking, Ma’am,” Miss O’Connell lied, surprising all of them. “She has no memory of doing so.”

“Sleepwalking?” Mrs. Donahue cocked her nose and snorted unflatteringly, clearly disbelieving Miss O’Connell’s lie. She tossed a wary glance at Miss Greenfield, the school nurse.

“It is possible,” Miss Greenfield admitted, trading a secretive look with Miss O’Connell, “but I think her arm is the main concern at the moment. It’s most definitely broken.”

“Take care of it, then,” Mrs. Donahue ordered her not all that gently. “And don’t forget to contact her parents.”

With those words, she strutted off, her heavy body swaying dangerously as she climbed the stairs.

<center>***</center>

Baltimore, February 1872

“You didn’t really fall, did you?” Elizabeth gave Maria a poignant, but quiet look. A splint was put on Maria’s arm, and every time she moved, Elizabeth could see her wince.

“What do you mean?” Maria asked hesitantly, her green eyes frightful.

Elizabeth pinned her friend with a knowing stare, then laid the book she’d been reading to Maria aside. “You were pushed, weren’t you?”

“How... How do you know?” Maria breathed out, scared.

For a second, Elizabeth wondered if Maria suspected her – how else could she know about what had happened? – but when Maria’s gaze softened a little, that concern dissipated.

“Yes,” Maria finally whispered. “I think so. I felt something on my back… but it wasn’t just a push, Elizabeth. It was different. I wasn’t sure it had really happened. It... it almost felt as though I was dreaming… the push... it was there, and yet, it wasn’t.” Ashamed, she shook her head. “I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?”

“You are,” Elizabeth assured her. “You are making sense, Maria.”

“I never should’ve gone out of bed,” Maria said remorsefully. “But when Michael dared me to meet him… I couldn’t say no, Liz!” Groaning, she threw her head back, against the pillow, and closed her eyes. “I like him so much… but I hate him, too, for having this control over me. It’s just so confusing!”

“In time, you’ll figure it all out,” Elizabeth whispered knowingly. “I’m sure you will.”

<center>***</center>

Ebony – I borrowed Austen’s Emma… haven’t had a chance to read it yet, though.

Thank you all so much! I don’t have time to thank you personally, but well… I love your reactions. *hugs*

An 1880's tonoure consisted of a long narrow piece of clothing, five inches wide at the top, and widening to nine inches at the bottom, with a series of small flounces. ( http://dressmakingresearch.com/1880s_under_dress.htm )
It was generally used to make the back of a dress look fuller... and it made sitting down uncomfortable and often inelegant. It was fashion in the 1880's, though, so there must be something about it the people liked.

<center>Chapter 6</center>

Baltimore, March 1872

She would always remember the day of Maria’s departure as the sunniest Monday March had ever known. All she wanted to do was sulk – lie down on her bed and cry for the entire afternoon – but the bright weather made it impossible for them to stay inside.

Maria was sprawled across her suitcase, her blonde hair fanned out as she absent-mindedly stared at the blue sky above them. “I don’t want to go,” she lamented in a small voice. “It’s not fair.”

Plucking at the grass surrounding them, Elizabeth gave her a hesitant smile. “I’m sure you’ll like it.” A little quieter, she continued, “I would give everything to have my mother with me.”

Maria slowly pushed herself upright, guilt written all across her beautiful features. “You’re right,” she whispered self-deprecatingly, “I’m sorry. I know I should be glad to go back… but I’ll miss you so much, Liz… And Miss O’Connell… I’ll miss her, too. And, believe it or not,” Maria said, “I’ll even miss Mrs. Donahue.” She grinned, but even to Elizabeth, it was obvious that the grin was forced – it resembled a sad grimace more than it resembled a smile or anything similar to it.

Letting out a quiet laugh, Elizabeth threw a handful of grass at Maria. “She’ll be the last thing I’d miss about Edgeworth!”

“Mmm…” Maria silently agreed and leaned back on her hands, throwing her head back to enjoy the golden warmth the sun coated them in. “You know what really bothers me?”

“No?” Elizabeth wondered, laying herself down as well, ignoring the grass that pricked the skin of her neck.

Maria looked down at her, something that resembled hesitance flickering in her eyes. “Not knowing what Michael thinks of me,” she finally confided Elizabeth. “I wish we were older… I want to be with him, Liz.” She snorted in a very unladylike way and shook her head disdainfully. “Silly, isn’t it? I don’t even know him…”

Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, Elizabeth peered up at her friend. “You’ll meet again,” she whispered. “I’m sure of it.”

Arching a sardonic eyebrow, Maria shook her head. “How do you know?”

Elizabeth skilfully avoided answering that question. “When you’re in Boston,” she told Maria, “look for a house with a red door. Have some faith in him.”

“What? In Boston?” Maria looked at her funnily. “What do you mean, Liz? I don’t understand.”

Smiling sadly, Elizabeth gave her shoulders a shrug. “You don’t need to,” she whispered and embraced Maria briefly. “Just remember it, Maria. Just remember what I said.”

<center>***</center>

Normally, I don’t do this, but seeing that we’re making such a big jump through time, I thought I’d add this:

Nine years later:

Baltimore, June 1881

Julie O’Connell spun around, showing off her new dress. “What do you think, Liz? Doesn’t the back look somewhat… strange to you?”

Drawing a comb through her long, shiny hair, Elizabeth shook her head. “No, not at all. I think you look very fashionable. Edward is going to love it.”

Miss O’Connell’s cheeks flushed. “Edward?” Folding her hands in front of her stomach, she slanted a quasi-confused glance at Elizabeth. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Elizabeth taunted, grinning happily as she slid off Miss O’Connell’s bed. “I’m not blind, you know.”

“Am I that obvious?” Julie O’Connell asked in a desperate groan. She buried her face in her cheeks, effectively hiding her blushing cheeks. “Do you think he has noticed it?”

“Lord, no,” Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head laughingly. “That man wouldn’t recognize love if it hit him over the head! He likes you, Julie.”

Slowly, Julie got her hands off her – still aflame – cheeks and looked at Elizabeth, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “You think so?”

“Yes, I do,” Elizabeth smiled. “Don’t worry so much.” She tied her hair into a loose twist, handing Julie the comb. “Besides, you look wonderful,” she added with a look at Julie’s new dress. It was close clinging in front, and Julie had added at ruffled tonoure to the back of the dress which gave it a full look.

“Why, thank you,” Julie laughed, flattered, and curtsied briefly. Combing her hair absent-mindedly – daydreaming about Edward, Liz was sure - Julie murmured, “I wish I knew where I’d left my silver pendant…”

“In your closet,” Elizabeth answered automatically, then immediately snapped her mouth shut, feeling incredibly stupid - it was dangerous to reveal information she’d garnered in her visions.

Julie stared at her bewilderedly. “How do you know?”

“I… I saw it yesterday,” Elizabeth lied difficultly, but Julie didn’t seem to notice her unease.

“Oh… really?” Julie screwed her eyebrows together in a pensive frown. “I can’t remember putting it in my closet…”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Well, that’s where I saw it last.”

“Well… thank you,” Julie smiled gratefully, and kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. “You’re a darling. Maxwell is going to love you.”

Wincing at the mention of her new employer, Elizabeth drew Julie in a tight hug. “I will miss you, Julie… You’ll come to visit me, won’t you?”

Julie laughed, but her brown eyes shone with unbidden tears. “Of course I will. I’m afraid I’ll have to… I haven’t seen Maxwell in ages.”

Elizabeth’s eyes darkened concernedly.

“He’s a fine man, Liz,” Julie attempted to soothe her worries. “You’ll be all right. You’re a strong woman – you’ll get by.”

“I’ll be so alone,” Elizabeth bewailed, tightening their embrace. “I’ll have nobody.”

Julie smiled. “You’ll do fine, dear. You’ll always have me.” A hesitant smile curled Elizabeth’s lips, and Julie laughed at noticing it.

“Now, please, do let me go. You’re wrinkling my dress,” Julie said, and when Elizabeth let go off her, startled, she gave her a playful wink. “I was just kidding.”

She heaved a deep sigh and bound her hair into a tight knot. “Wish me luck,” she implored Elizabeth with pleading eyes. “I’ll need it.”

“Good luck,” Elizabeth whispered, but she wasn’t sure who needed it more – Julie or she.

<center>***</center>

As you can guess, Max will show up in the next chapter… along with Esther…

Hugs,
Stefanie

The last chapter got eaten by the Internet, huh? Mm... let me see if I copied it to this computer... Oh... I did. Awesome. Okay, so without further ado:

<center>Chapter 7</center>

Aberdeen, Maryland, July 1881

Maxwell Evans’s house resembled a manor more than anything. It was larger than any house she’d ever seen. Large trees flanked a long, broad path leading to the stone stairs that rose to meet the front door of the house. Beside the stairs, flowerbeds lay, but the flowers had long since wilted, and the grass surrounding it was yellowish and dry.

Hesitantly, Elizabeth dropped her suitcase to the ground and reached for the knocker. It was made of a heavy, cool metal, and when she brought it down against the door, it created a loud, banging noise that startled even her.

To her surprise, Maxwell himself opened the door. He was younger than she had expected – maybe two, or three years older than she was – and despite of his young age, he looked fragile; broken even.

A little bit dazed, Elizabeth extended her hand while she tried to get rid of the nervousness churning in her stomach. “Elizabeth Parker,” she introduced herself, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Maxwell’s lips produced something that was supposed to resemble a smile – at least, that was what she assumed – but it, in fact, made his face look even graver than before. “Maxwell Evans,” he said, and shook her hand a little bit too fiercely.

She blinked rapidly and tried to fight the flash she felt coming, but it was of no use. Inhaling in short, sharp gasps, she managed to keep the images to a minimum, and yet, she still got overwhelmed by the intense feelings sweeping through her.

They stood still for a little while, shrouded in silence, her hand firmly clasped in his. “Ehm… hello,” she smiled after regaining her composure, trying to keep her anxiousness from showing. Had he noticed?

He let go off her hand; she guessed he realized he’d been staring at her. His eyes, a mixture of mild interest and a sadness that never seemed to leave them, swept over her face. “Here,” he said as he reached for her suitcase, “let me carry that.”

“Oh, it’s not that heavy,” she protested, but handed him the suitcase anyway. “You have a lovely home, sir.”

Pretty much ignoring her comment, he ascended the stairs. She followed him, a little bit hesitant, and her hand automatically went to her medallion.

“This will be your room,” he told her, and, opening a creaking door, he ushered her to enter the room. It looked incredibly large, but she suspected that might have something to do with the many windows looking out over the gardens. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and its brightness was in shrill contrast with the darkness of the rest of the house.

Maxwell put her suitcase down and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I know it’s not much,” he apologized, waving his hand somewhat forlornly, “but I’ll ask Nora to help you clean. The furniture is decent, though a bit worn-out.” Frowning, he wandered towards a table and at his touch, it wobbled slightly. “I’ll fix that once I have time, Miss.”

Smiling, Elizabeth nodded. “That’s all right, sir. This room… it’s perfect. It’s all I need.”

“Excellent,” Maxwell said, and he was quiet for a while, without a doubt giving her the time to inspect her room. After a minute or so, he cleared his throat and cocked his head in the direction of the door. “Shall we? I want you to meet Lucas.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth agreed, and before they left, she hastily closed the drapes – the temperature in the room already had risen past bearableness.

Lucas’s room was an exact copy of hers – just as large and bright, and with just as many windows. Maxwell pulled on the deep blue curtains to close them further, and quietly walked to Lucas’ bed. His body had taken on a sudden tenderness she hadn’t expected it to know, and when he kneeled down next to the bed, she was surprised by the gentle way he caressed Lucas’s forehead.

Lucas was young – younger than a year, she presumed – and in looks, his father’s opposite. His hair was almost as light as Esther’s hair had been. His skin was fair and freckled, and his cheeks were full and round.

Hesitantly, she neared the bed, startled when Maxwell suddenly turned to look at her. “I expect you to take good care of him,” he told her. “He must be content.”

“I will take excellent care of him, sir,” Elizabeth promised, giving him an earnest smile. His eyes were deep, but a light shade of golden. Sadness seemed to be permanently bathing in the darkness of his pupils - she nearly gasped at its intensity.

He’d been through hell, this man. Apparently, Lucas wasn’t the only person in need of help.

<center>***</center>

“You should marry him.”

Elizabeth turned sharply, one eyebrow raised in question. “What?”

Smiling provocatively, Esther neared her, her bare feet making a soft, patting sound as she moved over the wooden floor. “Marry him. This will all be yours!”

With a sigh, Elizabeth sunk down on her bed. “You’re crazy,” she said. “He wouldn’t marry me. Besides… what makes you think that I would want to marry him?”

“You don’t have to love someone to marry him,” Esther commented, shrugging carelessly as she light-footedly walked from one side of the room to the other.

Elizabeth huffed disapprovingly. “Of course you have to love him! You’re giving him the rest of your life. You won’t be happy if you don’t love each other.”

“A marriage doesn't have to last long,” Esther spoke, her voice hollow and suggestive. She had to have seen the look of confusion that flit across Elizabeth’s face, for in a lighter voice, she continued, “Nah. Forget it. He’s not your type anyway.”

Blinking, Elizabeth’s eyes darted up to meet her sister’s. “Pardon me?”

“He’s not your type,” Esther repeated dully, but there was a challenging twinkle in her eyes.

Elizabeth raised her head in a slightly haughty manner. “For your information, I happen to find him very attractive.” She reached behind her head to untie the ribbon that was holding her hair in a tight twist. “He seems compassionate and caring, and, beyond that, he is very good-looking.”

Something flashed through Esther’s eyes, and while Elizabeth slid into her nightgown, Esther said, “He still loves her. It’s obvious.”

“He loves the memory of her,” Elizabeth corrected her sister, and, as she distinguished the candle’s flame and crawled into bed, she briefly thought of her own life, and the memory she loved.

<center>***</center>

Aberdeen, September 1882

Lucas was, without a doubt, the sweetest boy she’d ever met. His eyes were a heavenly shade of blue – he must had inherited them from his mother – and his light hair and sweet smile gave him an almost angelic appearance.

She carried him around on her hip. He was growing heavier with every passing day, though, and she knew that soon, she wouldn’t be able to carry him as far and as long as she was used to.

Brushing a quick goodnight kiss over Lucas’s forehead, Elizabeth tucked him in tightly and tiptoed out of his room. She hesitated for a second when passing the stairway – should she go down? – and finally, she descended the stairs.

Maxwell was sitting in his usual armchair, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead.

“Can I join you, sir?” Elizabeth asked timidly, motioning at the chair next to him. “If you’d rather I –”

“No, no,” Maxwell interrupted her, and for a second, she could’ve sworn she saw the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “Of course not. Be seated, Miss. I’d like some company.”

She smiled gratefully, and she carefully sat down, reluctant to wrinkle her dress. “What are you reading?”

“The Canterbury Tales,” he answered, and showed her the book’s cover. “I’m reading it for the second time.”

Somewhat disappointed she couldn't talk with him about it, she nodded. “I’ve never read it. I’ve heard it’s an excellent work, though. Chaucer’s said to be a great writer.”

“Would you care to read it?” Maxwell closed the book and reached out to give it to her. “You can give it back to me when you’re done. We could discuss it.”

“I’d like that,” she answered happily, and reverentially, she touched the book’s cover. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He poked the hearth’s fire, and bright, orange flames flared up. “Miss… forgive me for my forwardness but… can I call you Elizabeth?”

“Oh, of course,” Elizabeth agreed, nervous excitement welling up inside of her. With her heart loudly thudding in her chest, she wondered if he was finally opening up to her. “Most people call me Liz, though.”

Maxwell gave her a poignant look, and seemed to close himself off again. “I’m not like most people,” he murmured, and staring into the flames, his eyes took on a faraway look. “I think I prefer Elizabeth.”

<center>***</center>

I'm not sure who already read it... and who didn't. I haven't been on this thread since posting it before the board disappeared on us.

Anyway... I don't know when I'll be able to update. School's a pain in the ass.

Okay... so maybe not a pain, because I really like it here, but it's certainly keeping me busy.

Hope to see you soon!

Hugs,
Stefanie

Hey!

It's been ages since I thought about this story. I'm planning to continue it, but I have a lot of work to do right now, so I'm thinking about moving it to my Christmas holidays - 5 blissful weeks without any homework at all.

Thank you so much for being interested. I wish I could tell you I'll post as soon as I can, but honestly, I don't know when that's going to be. I think somewhere in December.

Thank you again!

Hugs,
Stefanie