For the life of her, she couldn’t remember where she had it last, hence the intense search of her chamber. As she glanced down into the trunk, her hand touched another familiar thing – something she had not thought of in a long while. Her hands gripped the soft leather and retrieved her old journal from a few years prior. The leather was still in pristine condition and she placed it on her lap. She lightly touched the embossed flowers and smiled nostalgically.
Emma opened the journal and began to read her words from years ago. Her penmanship had improved a great deal since then, and the ink was slightly faded, but she was able to read her words. She wrote of her love for travel, when she had visited Paris with her parents, and wished to revisit the city as soon as she was able to. She also wrote of Edinburgh, which she wished to visit as well. Her father had promised that she could travel there, but had not done so yet.
A thought occurred to her and a sad smile formed on her lips. Although she loved William, she deserved to be happy, and traveling was the only thing that made her happy – besides him.
Emma was still angry with herself for declining his offer of marriage, and despite wishing she could go back in time and agree, she now had to do what was best for herself. She also did not wish to lose control over her life by becoming something she had always despised.
A slave to a man.
She shivered at the thought and glanced down at the journal resting on her lap. Her once sad smile shifted into feeling filled with promise and hope.
Perhaps it was time to make that visit to Edinburgh?
Emma stood up from her place on the floor and clasped the journal against her chest. She left her bedchamber and made her way down the hallway and then the staircase. A spark of hope filled up inside her, and she drew in a deep breath, gathering the courage she required.
She slowly made her way down the broad hallway, the sound of the piano growing louder. She stepped through the doorway of the drawing room and smiled at the sight before her.
Lord Montague, her father, sat on the stool in front of the piano, with his wife leaning against the side. The pair gazed lovingly into one another’s eyes, and for a moment, Emma pictured them as a young married couple, even more in love than they were today.
Emma had always admired her parents’ adoration for each other and had hoped she would find someone who would look at her the same way her father gazed at her mother.
Her thoughts immediately returned to William, whom she had tried to set away from her mind, but she continued to fail.
She recalled the way he had looked at her when he had asked for her hand, and her heart suddenly yearned for him. Despite not wanting to marry him due to his stated reasons, she still wished she had accepted.
She loved him, but it only seemed he wished to marry her out of pity, wanting to clear his conscience. She had come to hear many tales of him from her parents. His philandering. His drinking. His nights with widows and other bed partners.
Whether they held any truth was another story, but she did not wish to chance it. She was not about to place her heart on the line for someone who would not look after it.
“Emma, dear?”
Emma focused her gaze on her mother and cocked her head.
“Is everything well, daughter?” Lord Montague inquired with a furrowed brow.
“I am perfectly well, Father,” Emma answered and smiled as she stepped forward.
“Is that your travel journal, Emma?” he asked and turned to her.
Emma glanced down at the journal for a moment forgetting she still clutched it against her chest and nodded. “Indeed. I found it while I searched through my trunk in my bedchamber. I forgot I still had it.”
“You would not allow me to dispose of it, my dear,” her mother chuckled. “You adored writing in that journal almost as much as you adored traveling.”
“It was wonderful that you were able to visit different places with us, my dearest Emma,” her father said and smiled sincerely at her.
“And I enjoyed it as well, Mother and Father,” Emma said and glanced down at the journal in her hands. “I read through the pages and realized that there was one place I have not visited yet that I wished to. I still do, in fact.”
“And where is that, my dear?” her mother inquired.
“Edinburgh,” her father answered with a smile.
“Father still remembers,” Emma grinned.
“Of course. I recall I promised you that we would visit there one day,” he pointed out.
“Indeed, and you never break a promise,” Emma said hopefully.
He cocked his head and rested his arm on the side panel of the piano. “You are, indeed, correct. I am a man of my word, and I am fairly certain I understand. You wish to visit Edinburgh, see the castles and the lochs. The cliffs and the endless beaches.”
“Indeed, Father,” Emma answered. “With everything that has happened the past few weeks, it would be a welcome break from the drama that seems to follow me even to the sanctity of my own home.”
As her father prepared to rise abruptly from his piano stool, Emma raised her hand and said with reassurance, “Do not fret, Father. There have been no more incidents since the previous one. I simply wish to distance myself from my surroundings for a while.”
Lord and Lady Montague exchanged glances and much to Emma’s surprise, her mother nodded happily. “That does sound like a wonderful idea, my dear. It will give Emma the opportunity to forget everything she has gone through, as well as experience
