Lizzie's Song

Chapter 20- Awake

Lizzie wakes early and rouses Thomas only enough to kiss him before she slips from his cell and returns to her own bed. She falls back asleep quickly, hoping that her father's reaction come later in the morning will be understanding. She has kept to herself for so long that she no longer knows how he will react to things pertaining to love and romance.

When she joins him for breakfast, she is relieved to learn that Mr Hayes is already in the jail and the conversation is only with one father, not two. She fiddles with the spine of her notebook, trying to figure out just what to write.

"I know you went to Thomas last night. And that you stayed the night there. The guards say you both slept well."

She blushes, then writes, "You caught me. Did Mr Hayes tell you that he was the one who asked me to go?"

"He did. Said he tried to stop you from staying, though."

She nods, then mimes pushing him away, rolling her eyes.

"Thomas behave himself?"

"Always the gentleman."

"Did you behave yourself?"

"As much as I ever do."

Mr York knows his daughter well enough to know this means she was relatively proper, but just improper enough that he will likely hear about it from someone sometime later. To strangers, she has always seemed tame, but he knows she has preferences that are more daring than her usual circumstances allow. She is not only the jailer's daughter, but an apprentice witch, and her thoughts on propriety could be seen as dangerous by some.

"Lizzie. You realise he'll likely be locked up for over a decade. Likely fifteen years."

She nods.

"And you're going to wait for him?"

Another nod.

"Liz, do you love him?"

She pauses, then writes, "Likely. Probably. At least I am deeply infatuated. The room seems to tilt when I kiss him."

"And what about him?"

"He doesn't know if he has ever loved anyone other than his son, so he is unsure what this is. I think he loved Miss Cushing and do not doubt he is fully capable of giving his heart to someone."

"Have you talked any about the next fifteen years?"

"Allerdale Hall is ours to dispose of. Ezra gets the steam powered things. Everything else is up to us. I want to sell everything that I can out of it and save the money so he is not destitute when he returns. I haven't told him this, and don't you, either."

Mr York sees a determination in his daughter's eyes that tells him this is not just a flight of fancy or an infatuation. Thomas Sharpe is her friend, some day to be her lover, and she is willing to wait these years. To tell her otherwise would mean she would rebel against him all the harder.

"Is his interest sudden or has he made this known to you before?"

"It is not sudden. He wrote me a note, only to be read after he was dead. I read it the morning of his execution. And there have been other signs."

"Well we can't stay in Carlisle long. Nathaniel doesn't like keeping the jail and Thaddeus has a tendency to get himself into trouble when he does the duty. I'm sorry, but this isn't going to be a long reunion. You're going to have to say goodbye at the end of today."

Lizzie finishes her breakfast, dresses and takes lunch with her father at a tavern nearby. She then returns to the prison.

Thomas rises from his desk to greet her, unsure as to if he should hug her or kiss her hand or something else entirely, something a little more distant. She solves the problem for him by hugging him and kissing his cheek.

"Good afternoon, Lizzie."

She smiles.

"Would you care to sit?"

She nods and he leads her to sit on the bed.

"Thank you for staying last night. It helped. I am in better spirits today. It is the first day in...possibly my entire life that I have not expected anyone to try to kill me. It is a strange feeling, to possibly be safe."

She draws out her notebook, "I hope to spend many more nights with you in the future. But for now, I will happily hold last night in my heart. We can't stay in Carlisle much longer and Father says we will be heading home early tomorrow morning. If you would like me to stay the day with you here, I have been granted permission."

"I would like nothing better."

They spend the rest of the day sitting close together, often simply enjoying being together, not doing anything at all. They doze for a few moments before supper and after, Mr York comes to collect his daughter. He finds her sitting in front of Thomas, his chin on her shoulder, his arms around her holding a book, reading to her. It takes a moment for him to realise that Thomas is reading an article on Arctic exploration. He sits at the desk, patiently waiting for him to finish.

Mr York likes what he sees. Lizzie, nestled against Thomas, entirely comfortable in his arms. Thomas' voice is soft, but animated, his passion for discovery evident through his narration. Every once in a while, she places her hand on the page and he stops. She taps her fingers against her palm and then gestures to an area on the page. He reads it again. If she still does not understand how it connects, she taps the side of her head and shrugs. Thomas patiently explains, referencing previous paragraphs and his vast knowledge of science and engineering. He makes sure she understands before recapping where they were and continuing the article.

When they are finished with the article, Thomas closes the magazine, "We will read more when you visit next. No doubt I will have something new to share with you when you return." He shows the cover to Mr York, "Popular Science Monthly. Lizzie insisted I read to her, though I am sure she is more than capable of understanding it entirely on her own."

She stands, straightening her dress. Mr York hands her a coat and she puts it on. Thomas stands to say his goodbye with a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

He shakes Mr York's hand, "Thank you, sir, for your trust. I do not deserve her, but I am ever grateful to be granted time. She is brilliant."

"That she is. And I'm glad you've seen it. The young men who've courted her haven't ever bothered to look that far."

Thomas notices his choice of words- courted- and nods in acknowledgment, "Again, thank you."

"We'll see you. Well, she will. Depending on the mischief made back home, it might be Nathaniel escorting her, instead of me. Stay steady. Mr Hayes and I wrote a note to tell the Home Secretary how cruel this was. You've likely got 15 years ahead of you. The world'll be different in 1917, but we'll try to help you keep up on things so you don't feel left behind."

He nods his appreciation; Mr York heads for the door where Mr Hayes is waiting with the key. Lizzie touches Thomas' arm as she passes, walking backwards towards the door, signing. She pokes the air, pinpricks in the sky, and sends pinched fingers across her starscape. With spread fingers, she paints the sky and mimes bursts of light. Thomas stares, trying to figure out her signs. She points to the Popular Science Monthly on the bed and repeats the signs.

His eyes light up, "Stars! The comet, that was the arc?"

She nods, grinning.

He grabs the issue and flips through, "This one- 'Comet's tails, the corona and the Aurora Borealis'- do you want me to read it next time?"

She laughs, a rough, nearly silent sound, but her happiness is clear.

"Yes, yes- I will. Together."

She steps back forward, kisses his cheek once more, and pats his chest over his heart.

"Goodbye, Miss York. I look forward to your letters and your visits."

She waves, and then the door is locked. Thomas returns to his bed. He sets Popular Science Monthly aside. He wants to read about the comets, too, but he has promised Lizzie they would read it together. The joy of discovering something with her is greater than his curiosity. He will wait.