The Musician (Emerson Pass Historicals 5)

20

Fiona

The next fewweeks seemed to roll by at a fast pace. I’d gotten a letter from my parents telling me they were extending their time in England by fourteen days. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed by this news. Between the boys, my lessons, and preparing for the recital, I fell into bed each night exhausted. At least twice a week, our friends joined us for late-night discussions and wine drinking. One night I fell asleep in one of the chairs, coming to only when Li gently shook me awake after they’d all gone home.

Gabriella was a big help and a natural with little children, thank goodness. Without her there, even with Li’s assistance, I wouldn’t have been able to look after them and do my work. I was beginning to understand what a large undertaking it was to take children into one’s home and heart. Every time I thought of my family’s reaction, my stomach turned over. What would they think? Would they allow me to keep them?

A letter had arrived from Mama just that morning, prompting me to take action.

Dearest Fiona,

We will be leaving here in a week’s time to return to Paris. I can hardly wait to see you and hear about your adventures. Given the date of your recital, we should safely be there in time for it. To say I’m excited to hear you sing would be rather an understatement.

In your last letter, you hinted that you might like to cut your trip short and return home with us. If that’s still your inclination, then I will not stop you. If you’re enjoying your time and studies, then we have no problem leaving you the rest of the year. However, if you’re homesick, there’s no harm in coming home early. No one will think less of you, my darling.

I was never one to crave adventure like Flynn and Cymbeline. I’m more like you—all my joys come from my family. This trip has been extraordinary, but I have been left with the distinct feeling that this may be the last one overseas. Your father has enjoyed himself but has found he’s adjusted thoroughly to America. He and his brother argued at dinner last night about the class structure in England. As I’m sure you can imagine, your father had strong opinions about all that, given his life in America.

Being away has made me even more sentimental than usual. I’ve been thinking a lot about those first months when I came to know you children. You were still so little, so precious and sweet. I can remember the first time you wrapped your arms around my neck and snuggled on my lap. In that moment, I knew exactly who I was. Motherhood does that—tells you who you are, all your weaknesses and strengths, all the ways in which you are flawed but also the deep and unselfish love we’re all capable of but do not always need. Mothers, well, we need it all.

I should close to get this in the post. We leave tomorrow and will spend the last of our time on the coast before heading across the Channel to France, arriving to you on the last week of July. If you should need to write before then, send a letter to the inn where we’ll spend our last few days before heading to France. I’ve included the address below. Otherwise, we’ll see you in Paris! Much love and see you soon.

Mama

I set the letter on the desk and smoothed it with both hands. What should I do? Write to her about the boys or wait until she and Papa arrived? I’d not told them Li had joined me, either. Would they be angered by both choices or neither?

I had no idea how she or Papa would respond to my desire to take the boys back to America. What I’d done was so outlandish that I was without experience to guide me. I could only hope that they would see my benevolent act as such and not foolhardy or impulsive. Regardless, I must prepare them for what waited here in Paris.

Dear Mama,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I’ve been monstrously busy the last few weeks.

I raised my pen from the paper, thinking. How exactly would I explain all of it? A pity James wasn’t here to act as my editor, I thought, mildly amused at the idea before sobering to my current dilemma. How should I tell them what I’d done? I dipped my pen back in the inkwell and continued.

I’m dashing this off so that it will be at the inn when you arrive. Perhaps you should sit down before you read the rest of this, as I have something surprising to tell you.

Firstly, Li is here with me. The reasons for this are complicated and best told in person. It’s nothing to worry over. I’m fine. Li is well too.

Secondly, I’ve done something out of the ordinary.

I paused to dip my pen once more. Out of the ordinary wasn’t quite the right phrase for what I’d done, now was it? Regardless, I must continue.

One day when Li and I were out walking along the river, we witnessed a fight between two little boys. Not a scuffle like Flynn and Theo might have done when they were young (or Cymbeline for that matter), but a professional fight. They were in a boxing ring and people were sitting around to watch. They’d asked the boys to fight each other and made bets on who would win. A spectator sport, if you can imagine!

I couldn’t stand it. I extricated the boys from the situation and brought them home to my apartment. They’re orphans and had been living on the streets, supporting themselves with these boxing matches. I didn’t realize it at first, but they’re twins. They remind me a little of Theo and Flynn in that Bleu does most of the talking while Beaumont is quiet, always observing. Their mother died of some kind of illness last year. Their father was killed during the war, dying before they ever had the chance to meet him. For many months they’ve been living on the streets. It sickens me to think of what they’ve endured.

Thus, I cannot send them back to life on the streets. We have to help them somehow. The longer they’ve been here with us at the apartment, the more attached we all become to one another. Given their circumstances, Li has a special place in his heart for them. I’m sure you can understand why that would be. They’re sweet and innocent and deserve better than what life has given them.

Li and I have been researching what would be best for them. By law, they’re not allowed to be adopted except by married couples, one of whom has to be over the of age twenty-eight. However, we’re allowed to offer a temporary solution called fostering. As long as the boys are safe and taken care of, the government is satisfied. Taking them home with us to Colorado may be another matter. I’m hoping Papa can do something to help with that. They need to be with our family. That is what I know without reservation. Exactly what that looks like remains to be seen.

You and Papa may be angry at what I’ve done. I wouldn’t blame you, even as it pains me to think so. However, I couldn’t leave them there to be at the mercy of those terrible men who treated them like animals. As I’ve lain awake at night worried about the future, it occurred to me that sometimes decisions have to be made that no one will understand. This was one of them. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. For them, mostly, but also for me. This is the singular most important thing I will ever do with my life. That much is clear to me. Whatever comes, I shall take responsibility for them. I know I’m young, but what else is there in this life more important than generosity and sacrifice for the sake of a child?

I remember Louisa—how she came to be with the Linds—what you did for her and how that act of kindness rippled so far. Not just for the Linds and Louisa but eventually for Theo. Also, Papa brought Mrs. Wu and two little children home for many of the reasons I chose to bring Bleu and Beaumont back to my apartment. I hope you’ll think of both these events when you’re deciding my punishment for making such a reckless decision.

I must go now. I long to see you and count the days until you arrive. Love to Papa. XX

Fiona