Dear Cynthia,

I can barely see for the tears as I write. In a few weeks I will be leaving my beloved family and Lawrence to seek refuge in your new country. Anthony has assured me that it isn’t as bad as I have been led to believe in my upbringing. As he may have already told you: I am expecting. It should be sometime in December and I expect to arrive in America in October or so. I am already starting to look suspicious. You are a darling girl, Cynthia. I miss you.

Your friend,

Ophelia.

I still don’t know how Anthony found out first or why my letter came so late. All I know is that I was the one who went down to the docks the day that Ophelia came to America. The docks were as grim and dark as I remembered from the day I came here and I carefully took a seat upon a crate, waiting for her ship to appear. Looking to my right, I saw Ophelia, one of my very best friends, who I hadn’t seen in over a year. “Cynthia?” I heard her call out.

Forcing my way through the ridiculous crowd, I grabbed Ophelia by the hands. “Ophelia, how are you?”

“As well as I can be,” she said sadly.

I could tell from the way she carried herself that she was ashamed – ashamed of being pregnant, ashamed that the father of her child wasn’t her husband, ashamed that he wasn’t a nobleman, just ashamed in general. “Yes, I'd imagine so. Now let's get you inside, come with me.” I led her to the lodging house first, silently praying that no one would be there to make her anymore ashamed.

We walked in and there were a few others; Siren, who, of course, was perfectly trustworthy, Anthony, who I thought was so, and Empire, who I didn’t know at all. “Hello there,” Empire said to her and her eyes shot to the floor. I remembered the feeling.

“Hello Empire,” I said, trying with all of my strength to be brave for my friend. I gestured to each of the lodgers in the room as I said their names. “This is Empire, Siren, and you know him.”

“Some introduction there Cyn. Who is it?” Anthony asked, sounding slightly angry. Surprisingly enough the two of us had the weirdest relationship. I could have sworn that he was my brother if I didn’t know any better. Sometimes it seemed that he was taking care of me, but for the past few day I had been taking care of him. He had been taking his homesickness out on everyone else.

“Anthony?” Ophelia asked. Those two actually were related: cousins.

“Bloody Hell! Ophelia? What in the world....”

“This is my friend from back home: Ophelia Blanchard,” I said to Siren and Empire.

“Thanks for the tea Anthony,” Siren said, angrily.

‘Oh dear’ I thought, glaring at Anthony, trying to mental remind him of a conversation we had earlier - the ‘be nice’ conversation. Then he did something I didn’t expect him to do. While I was stupidly telling Ophelia such things as “this is a chair,” he apologized for being an absolute git and backed down from a possible argument with Empire. I was unbelievably shocked. He then raced over to Ophelia. “Why are you here?”

“I wrote you about it,” she said, frowning.

“Oh, that's right, I forgot about that.” He shook his head and flashed that ‘forgive me’ smile. “Are you staying at the lodging house?”

“I think we shall house her at Molly's. I don't know how everyone here would react to her,” I responded quickly. I mean, I was already responsible for bringing one arrogant, snobby prat to the house, how would I explain another one?

“Molly's?” She asked in frightened voice.

“Yes, my violin teacher's flat.”

“If you think that'd be best.”

“Don't worry, Ophelia, we will take care of you,” I whispered and Anthony nodded. “Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”

“It already did,” she sighed

“I mean now that you are here, not.... that.”

“So...when shall we be heading to, Molly's is it?”

I looked nervously out the window after she said that, growing frightened as I saw that it was twilight. Going out at night was not a happy memory for me; too many horrible things have already happened to me during the hours of twilight. Then, as if an answer to my silent prayer, Tracker walked into the house. “Hello Tracker!” I said happily.

He smiled back – this was a different time – “Hi Morning...and new person”

“Tracker, this is Ophelia Blanchard. Ophelia, Tracker McDuff.”

Despite my best efforts and the fact that he shared the last name of a Scottish nobleman that Ophelia knew very well, she easily recognized that he was Irish and let herself be overcome by a prejudice that had been handed down for many long years. She crossed her arms and glared at Tracker. “Charmed.” I sighed for I had so hoped that she would get along with the others in the house.

“Well,” I said, shivering from fear of the gathering darkness, “I guess we better get going to Molly's, before it gets too late.”

Tracker looked between the two of us. “I could go with you if you'd feel better about going out,” he offered.

“I'll feel much better, especially about the walk back.”

Then the three of us wandered off to Molly Ann’s flat at the ‘East River Bar.’ As I expected, Molly Ann was cordial and welcoming to Ophelia. After explaining to me that her son, Logan, would also be coming and she was glad to have a full house, she wished a fond good-bye to Tracker and I making her usual mistake. “You and... um...Ranger, be safe now!”

“So, that's Ophelia?” He asked as we hurried back to the house.

“Yeah, that's Ophelia.”

“Not to seem rude, but...why is she here?”

“You mean you didn't notice?”

“Well, I didn't really spend that much time with her, basically just walking here. Notice what?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

“Morning, what's going on?”

That’s when the guilt struck me. Tracker had always been so nice; why shouldn’t I tell me. “If I told you would promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise”

“Ophelia's my friend from back home, she got into some...er...trouble and now she's going to have a baby.”

“Ah, that kind of trouble”

“Yes, that kind of trouble, and where she comes from that's the kind of thing they disinherit you for.”

“That's not nice of them.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No one ever said they were nice, just ask Anthony”

“I think I might steer away from that one”

“You might be right, his dad is defiantly a touchy subject.”

“Thanks for warning me.” From there the two of us walked into the lodging house and at least I was worried that this would not work out at all.

And it started to look like it really would work out in November. That’s when Ophelia started to get, really sick: homesick and otherwise. Anthony and I decided to have someone there at all times, because she was starting to worry us. That’s how I met Logan. “Who’s there?” a male voice shouted, when I knocked on Molly Ann’s door.

“Morning,” I said with confusion in my voice. There had never been anyone I hadn’t known at Molly’s flat.

“Oh! Morning, Mother has told me about you,” he said throwing the door open. Standing there, I saw a tall and somewhat muscular boy with fair hair.

“Are you Logan?” I asked, remembering what Molly Ann said about her son.

“That would be my name.” He moved out of the doorway. “Please, come in.”

I went in and sat in my usual chair behind Molly Ann’s desk. “I came to see Ophelia.”

“Of course you did.” He went over to the kitchenette and turned off the burner. “ Would you like some soup?”

“No, I don’t think…”

“It’s tomato.”

“Honestly, I’m not hungry.”

He sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine, then I guess it’ll go to waste.”

I looked at him. It was obvious to me what he was doing. “I’m your mother’s student.”

“I know. I don’t think that tomato soup will affect your ability to play the…” he paused, “whatever you play. Actually it might help. You’re too skinny.” How many people were going to tell me that?

“Fine.” I said sharply and Logan laughed loudly while getting me a bowl of soup. He was a lot like his mother in that respect: they both laughed at random times that didn’t always seem as appropriate as it could be.

He handed me the bowl of soup and a tea soup. I looked at it and thought to myself how I would have been shocked if this had been a year ago, but by now I was used to this sort of infraction. “Something wrong with the spoon?” he asked, making me aware that I had been staring at it a little bit longer than I would have liked.

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong with the tea spoon.”

Logan looked over and smiled brightly. “You’re a cultured one, I see. Wait a moment.” He dug around in a drawer for a little while, produced a sterling soupspoon and presented it to me. “This better?” Taking it, I nodded and started sipping my soup. “Wow! You’re really cultured!”

“Excuse me?”

“Half the people I met in this country would just slurp that right up.”

“I guess I’m part of the other half then.”

“I guess so. And when I was in Ohio they did this.” He lifted the bowl to his mouth a started drinking directly out of it. “Are you shocked?”

“Positively.” Then we both laughed, both of us, including me. “You have been to…Ohio, you say?”

“Yes, I travel a great deal. Have you been there?”

“Certainly not. In America I have never been outside of New York.”

He mockingly put his hand over his heart. “Now, It’s my turn to be shocked. You’ve been in this dirty city your entire life?”

“I didn’t say that. I just have never been anywhere else in this country.”

“Oh, so what other country have you been in then?”

“England, that’s where I was born; I didn’t come here until about 2 years ago.”

“I’ve never been in the presence of a really live Brit before.” He immediately stood up and took off his hat. “I should have recognized the accent. I’m terribly, terribly sorry. Can you forgive me, my lady?”

I was shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“My family is Irish, my lady.”

“I know plenty of Irish people, ones that were born there at that. I’ve never had a problem with them, in general.”

His eye lighting up, he dropped to his knees and kissed my hand. “Fair maiden, you are truly the most forgiving and tolerant beauty I’ve ever met.” I just looked at him with no shock or anything of the sort. I’d seen Anthony try that line on one too many a girl to fall for it myself. He stood up and smiled at me. “I think I’m going to like you.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve traveled all over this fair country since I turned eighteen. I have seen pioneer girls in their petticoat skirts and bonnets and I’ve seen Voodoo priestesses in New Orleans. I’ve seen so many different kinds of girls. You’re different and that is most refreshing.” By now his face was dangerously close to mine. He was about to kiss me. I thought I’d pass out from fright, but the door to the flat flew open and rescued me from any possible incident.

“For goodness sakes, Logan, have some restraint! I happen to like that girl,” Molly Ann said loudly, laughter in her voice.

“I wasn’t doing anything, mother,” he said in resignation.

“Of course not. You, my son, are defiantly your father’s child.”

Logan laughed. “I only take that as a compliment.”

“I only meant it as one.” Then she turned to me. “Ophelia’s downstairs. We just got back from shopping. I have this feeling in my gut that the little one will be girl.”

“Boy, mama, you had a dream that it would be a boy,” Logan said exasperatedly.

“I know. That’s why it’s got to be a girl. My dreams are always wrong.”

“Is she still depressed?” I asked quietly.

“Only slightly, thankfully. She’s got your average female ailments and then of course she’s far away from home.” Molly Ann sighed.

“So, she’s homesick?” Logan asked. Both Molly Ann and I nodded. “Maybe you should try and make her feel at home. Do something that she would do while there.” Then he glanced at me. “What do they do in England?”

“I’ll have Anthony make her some tea or something.”

“Anthony? Who’s he?” Logan asked.

“My friend.”

“And, my competition.” Molly Ann hit her son lightly on the shoulder and we all laughed, even though I was worried that Logan might be serious. I didn’t want him pursuing me at all.

A knock on the lodging house door jarred me to my senses. I had been musing on the previous evening. It was Bonfire Night, a holiday in Merry Old England that Anthony didn’t realize wasn’t one here. I’d rather not go into great detail about it, but he got drunk and almost told our secret. It wasn’t a very good thing. I answered the door and saw Logan standing there, smirking at me happily. “I’m here to take you out on the town.”

I laughed a little. “Out on the town, Logan? Did you not just get into town?”

“All the more reason for us to go out.” I was skeptical, but I wasn’t really doing anything so I got my coat and walked out the door with Logan. “You’ll really like this place.”

“Where are we going?”

“Dancing at a little social.” I felt in a sudden distress as he led me into a building with one huge ballroom of sorts, filled with people. Some ragtime songs were being played by a mismatched band and I felt so out of place. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Just follow me.”

“Logan…” I pleaded, looking for the nearest exit. He didn’t listen; he just led me further out and started dancing. After a while I began to realize that I was actually having a good time that’s when he leaned in to kiss me again. “Don’t do that,” I hissed.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want you too.”

“Oh.” Logan said, smirking. The then walked over to the band and asked them to play a tune that I had never heard of. He pointed at me and the singer laughed loudly. Logan walked back over, grinning from ear to ear as the bandleader struck up a song about playing hard to get.

I glared. “That is not funny, Logan, it’s embarrassing!”

“I think it’s funny.”

“I don’t. This is just the way I am.” I started to walk away and didn’t look back to see if he was following me, although something inside me told me that he was just a few steps behind all along.

“My God! Mother! How can you keep letting her play that B flat?” Logan shouted angrily from the little couch he was sitting on. I was taking my violin lesson and he had not said a word so far.

“It is not flat!” I snapped, frustrated.

Molly Ann put her hand on my shoulder. “Actually my dear, it is flat.” I sighed.

“What’s wrong with you? Got a tin ear or something?” Logan spat at me.

“Logan!” Molly Ann looked at her son in shock.

“Just an honest question. I can’t believe she doesn’t know that she’s out of tune.”

“Everyone can have perfect pitch they just have to work at it. The only reason you’ve always had it is because I sang to you so much as a child.”

“Did your mother ever sing to you, Morning?” He asked in a biting tone.

“No,” I said in a sort of choked voice. “She died when I was only a year old.”

Molly Ann glared at her son, whose mouth dropped open. “I…I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground.

A tense silence followed and was only broken by Ophelia suddenly screaming. “It can’t be yet,” Molly Ann muttered, running into the other room. I waited tensely, scared to move. Logan appeared to be the same. A few minutes later, Molly Ann came out and sighed deeply. “No, not yet, but she’s a very sick girl. I fear that one of the two won’t make it through, maybe both.”

“No.” I shook my head, starting to cry. Molly Ann frowned at me, nodding solemnly. Neither of us knew what we could possibly do.

The next day when I arrived to see Ophelia, both she and Molly Ann were gone. Logan told me that Molly Ann took her to see a very respectable Doctor named William Grygo, who worked somewhere in Queens. “But you can come in anyway. It’s sort of lonely around here,” Logan said. He seemed to be in a much nicer mood that he had the day after our day on the town. “What something to drink?”

“Do you have any tea?”

“I have coffee, but no tea.”

“Oh, then just give me some water.” He nodded, brought over two glasses of water and sat down next to me on the little couch. I drank my water and became suddenly conscious of his eyes watching me intently. “What is it?” I asked, a little bit frightened.

“Do you know that you’re beautiful?”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Do you?” he kissed my cheek and I moved as far away as I could. “Don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” I looked into his eyes almost terrified to see the same drunken hunger that had been in my attackers eyes so long ago, but it wasn’t there. There was something else that I couldn’t describe. He leaned in to kiss me on the lips again and this time I let him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I pulled out of the kiss. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“I do not think…”

“They’re gonna be gone all week, no one is going to know.” He started to kiss me again, one of his hands undoing my plaited pigtails.

I pushed him away. “Seriously, Logan. I’d know.” I sat up and started plaiting my hair again. He was looking at me, confusion clouding his features, reminding me of someone long gone that I no longer remembered. I stopped and kissed him. I couldn’t help it. It seemed to me that someone else had suddenly possessed me and was now occupying my body.

When I pulled back, he smiled at me. “I’ve been waiting for that.” Then he kissed me again and it wasn’t long before his hands returned to my hair, but this time I was kissing him back. He started to fumble with my blouse buttons when suddenly he stopped at looked at me. I became instantly aware that I was crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked

“I couldn’t explain if I tried.” I got up and started straightening out my skirts. “I’m sorry.”

“What was his name?” Logan asked, looking at me grimly.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I sobbed.

He looked at me with wide eyes. “You mean…” I nodded. He stood up and hugged me as I cried. “I’m sorry. If I had only known.”

“Care to tell me why you’ve been crying?” A voice asked as I entered the lodging house. I saw Anthony sitting in the lobby, looking at my tear-stained face. I didn’t say anything to him. I just walked toward the stairs. “Cyn, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said to him as I walked upstairs. He looked skeptically. I watched as he put his coat on and walked outside, and then quickly followed him. Just as I expected, he went straight to the ‘East River Bar.’ I waited outside a few moments before heading in and up to Molly Ann’s flat.

“Keep your filthy hands off of her!” I could hear Anthony shouting. I winced.

“What are you, the overly jealous freak who attacked her?”

“I can not believe you just accused me of that!”

“It wasn’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what do you care?”

“She’s my sister and I do not want her to get hurt.”

“Your sister?” I asked, giving away my hiding place.

Anthony looked at me in shock, closing his eyes tightly, like he always did when he said something that he probably shouldn’t have. “You know what I mean, right, Cyn?” he asked nervously. I could detect a strangeness in the way he said that, like he didn’t mean what he wanted me to think he meant.

“I think.”

He nodded. “Of course you do.” He then took my arm and led me out of the bar. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I knew there was no way it could have been anything except thinking of me as a sister. He wasn’t much older than me, so it was impossible, was it not?

Doctor Grygo pronounced that there was nothing he could do for Ophelia and that either she or the baby would day. We all waited in fear as she grew sicker with each passing day. No one wanted to tell her that she might not survive. It just didn’t seem right with her pining over her darling all the time. In late December I went to Molly Ann’s flat and it appeared to be empty, so I sat in the kitchen and waited for something to happen. AS I started to drift into my thoughts Ophelia walked into the kitchen, a squirming blanket in her arms. “Ophelia! For goodness sake?” I asked, surprised

“Hello Cynthia,” was all she said.

“Ophelia, is that...” She nodded and I couldn’t contain my happiness. Both of them seemed to be in perfect health. I quickly left my chair and ran to her. “When?”

“December Twenty-fourth”

I was smiling, exceptionally happy for her. “Is it a boy or girl?”

“Girl, her name is Noelle”

“Oh, Ophelia, you must be so happy.”

“I am”

“And, I'm happy for you.”

“Would you like to hold her?” I didn’t really want to. I just knew I would drop the fragile bundle, but I agreed anyway. “Just hold her like I am now.” She then carefully set the little tiny thing in my arms. I smiled nervously at the baby, while Ophelia went to the stove. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, yes please, thank you, Ophelia.”

“How have you been?”

“I've been well, very well, thank you.” Her manner was starting to shock me. No longer was she arrogant and haughty, she seemed softer, more human as she looked down at her child with adoring eyes. “I have ask, how have you been feeling?”

She paused. “Different.”

“I expected as much.”

“It's odd, having someone that completely relies on me.”

“Do you miss Lawrence?” I asked, knowing full well that she did. She nodded, confirming my suspicions. “Have you even written to him at all?”

“No”

“And why not?”

“I don't know how to begin.”

“You might want to start with where you've been all this time.”

She nodded and glanced at me. “You look adorable holding her”

I laughed. “I do?” She nodded. “Poor little dear Ophelia....”

“What?”

“Just everything, I mean, these are unfortunate circumstances, aren't they?”

“Well, yes. But on the bright side...”

“You never used to be the bright side type...it's a delightful change.”

“Well, on the bright side, I have Noelle.”

I smiled at her. I liked her much more like this. “Yes, a delightful change indeed.”

“Was I that bad?” I nodded once as she wandered back to the stove and poured two cups of tea.

Just then, the outside door slammed into the wall. Ophelia and I both looked over to see the figure of Anthony checking to make sure he didn’t dent the wall. When he seemed satisfied of this he walked toward us. “Hello loves.”

“Anthony, you scared me.” Ophelia said, laughing slightly.

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you. Would you like some tea?”

He nodded with a smirk. “Of course.” He waited as Ophelia poured another cup of tea and then looked towards me. Noticing the baby his eyes widened in a sort of horror, as thought he thought it was mine or something. “Um...Cyn?” I just laughed at him. “What?”

Ophelia came over and took Noelle from me. “I'll take her Cynthia, if you wish to drink your tea” The she smirked at Anthony. “You were saying?”

“You had the baby?” he asked happily.

“Of course.”

“And didn't tell me! I'm hurt!”

She rocked Noelle in her arms. “I didn't really tell anyone, so don't be too offended.”

“So, who does it look like?”

“You tell me.” Ophelia walked over and showed Noelle to him.

“Hmmm... Your eyes and hair, but Lawrence's mouth...definitely.” She smiled brightly. “You’re a lucky girl Ophelia.”

“Her name is Noelle.”

“Noelle, like Christmas?”

“She was born Christmas Eve”

He shrugged “That makes sense.” I watched them a little longer as they discussed whether or not Ophelia wanted to stay in America or go back to England and try to explain the sudden appearance of a baby. None of us knew which option she should go with. My thoughts started drifting back in time and I suddenly realized that unlike my two friends I had nothing to go back for, even if I did want to. They had families and homes. I had a title and that was it. It just didn’t seem worth it.

“You’re going to Ohio again?” I asked Logan as he stood on the platform, waiting for his train to leave.

“My friend Alexander is having some problems in his family and he needs my help.”

“Always the hero,” I muttered under my breath.

He kissed me briefly as the whistle sounded. “Promise me that you won’t fall in love with someone else while I’m gone?”

“Who else would I fall in love with?”

He lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Then don’t let anyone else fall in love with your beautiful face. I love it too much.”

I blushed as he ran to catch his train. For a while after that, I stood rooted to the spot, not understanding his words. Did he really love me? Did I love him? Why couldn’t I make up my mind about anything?