Meet Mr. Thornton.

"Sir Crawford, Miss Stanton, Miss Whitby," the editor said.

Mr. Thornton was a young editor, though not too young, yet not appearing as old as Sir Crawford.

My cousins and I nodded back to him politely as one should yet his acknowledgement of us looked to be done out of obligation.

"Either way this is a load of nothing. Tell your father he'll want new writers over there. How hard can it be to find at least one in America?"

"I'll tell him for sure," Sir Crawford said without knowing how to open up the right conversation.

"Oh wait never mind it is America we are talking about after all." He mumbled crumbling up the paper and throwing it in the trash. I held in my gasp almost ready to speak my mind at any moment but remebered I was here out of a need.

Just then the editor noticed my horrified look and focused on me. The owner of a direct cat like gaze he questioned my reaction with his shut off conduct. But while sporting a week old stubbled face aiding to age his tired look I was not intimidated by him. And after an intense battle with my eyes he gave up and started on some random topic. I had won. Of course I would. I wasn't one to give up my ground to anyone who did not deserve it.

*

After acquiring about the state of the news Sir Crawford finally asked that which was of interest to me as Angelina sighed ogling the editor amusing me a little with her fancy.

"Mr. Thornton, we were hoping you could help Miss Whitby find an author." Sir Crawford said after letting the editor run wild with his own line of conversation for too long when it could have been done within the first minute of introduction.

"Which one? I know many," he looked completely uninterested in the request browsing papers on his desk.

"What is the name again?" Sir Crawford asked and tired of waiting for him to find his brain I took the lead on the conversation.

"Mr. Frances Belmont, He wrote a book called..."

"The ideals and dilemas of religion." Mr. Thornton said the title before I could finish though I couldn't grasp why the sudden display of knowledge for someone who looked like he didn't give two figs about my search.

"Exactly."

"And may I ask why the interest?" He asked an odd question instead of giving away what he knew right away.

"I wish to write him a letter discussing the ideas in his book."

"No doubt to criticize him."

Mr. Thornton kept a close eye to my motives looking up from his papers with animosity set deep in his eyes. Yet for what reason? All because I did not shy away from his stare like some would? Well then he should not have tried to measure forces with me.

"And if I do?" I asked back raising an eyebrow at him yet completely at ease with his attack.

"Do you not think it a little presumptuous on your part to think he would care for your opinion at all?" He became even more filled with annoyance in his looking at me.

"Do you not think your advice to thwart my attempt without knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt, supposing how the author would feel about my letter, to be of the same nature which I stand accused of?"

Sir Crawford eyes looked like he had not but ever seen me till that moment as he stood incredulous of my response. Surely some would call it anything that shows your opponent's true colors impertinent but if I exposed his character the character in play was still him. If he did not wish to be revealed then he should've been amiable. Just then the youngish Mr. Thornton eyes grew gravely serious taking all offense from my response that was just the same as his.

"Frances Belmont lives in London." The editor said pulling out a piece of paper from his desk to write on. I waited anxiously reading it upside down.

"I'm very obliged to you Mr. Thornton." I nodded although he was slow to give up the paper to me as if he did not wish to do so. "Now if you'll excuse me I do have quite a bit to get through."

The editor immediately took a seat and opened up a newspaper shutting himself behind it away from us. If he had physically thrown us out it would've been the same. Such a temperamental editor he was lucky Sir Crawford was too simple and amazingly patient for any other would've fired him. Yet still Sir Crawford stayed behind to talk to him as I rushed my cousin out of the room.

"Do you know him by any chance?" I asked my cousin curious to know if anybody else did in London as my cousin was great at hearing gossip.

"No, I would remember meeting someone so handsome."

"You mean unpleasant?" I told her.

"Only towards you." She complained but it wasn't true Mr. Thornton hadn't given one kind glance to either of us but who was she to understand that at her age?

"It does not matter because you are not allowed to find any beauty in anyone who has no great inheritance or title. If you do my dear aunt will claim I am the bad influence over you. Let us go home before you fall for another pretty face." I was astounded at my cousin's youthful disposition towards a man she had but only seen once.

"Do you really think he is not rich?" My cousin looked scandalized.

"Oh my, let it go, you and Mr. Thornton shall never cross paths again."

"Do not say that! I could very well run into him, especially since we are friends now."

"Friends!" I chuckled mocking her.

"Stop laughing at me Anastasia."

"Fine, forgive me, I will not make fun of your friend." I grabbed her hand and we got into the carriage.

Sir Crawford left us both home and as my cousin climbed up the stairs to her room I read the address over and over again like I could not wait another single minute before seeing Frances Belmont with my own two eyes and so I walked right out of the house and started towards where he lived.

How did he look like? Did he have brown hair and fair complexion? The one I thought I had inherited from my real father. Was he destitute? I assumed so as to where the address led me and I stopped just around the corner where I could see the door to the place he lived at.

What was I doing here? I didn't even know what I'd say to him, ask him. Reveal myself or not? Talk about his book? Had I really come all the way to his doorstep for such a thing?

I hadn't thought about any of it and just as I was about to turn around and head home the door opened and out came the young editor.

What was that rude editor from the paper doing here? And was that Mr. Frances Belmont? It looked like it from the age that he could be and yes my brown hair.

Were Mr. Thornton and Mr. Frances Belmont friends? And he hid it from me? Why?

The hateful editor was saying his goodbyes to who I assumed was the man who seduced my mother. Mr. Thornton shook his head with an apologetic smile and Mr. Belmont nodded to him tapping him on the shoulder and I got a glimpse of his tall, sturdy silhouette and grey hairs wearing a shirt rolled up the sleeves and a pair of spectacles hanging off his thin nose.

As the door shut the editor brushed his hair forwards, and set off walking before either of them could see me. My heart beat out of my chest hoping to not get caught but also enraged from being completely deceived by the editor who chose to omit their friendship to me.

And what was he doing here right after our talk? Why had he come? Ugh the nerve of that man!

The moment he was out of sight I got out of my hiding spot and back to my aunt's house in time for dinner. Maybe I didn't want to meet him after all and now that I had seen him it'd be enough to get back to my life in Whitby.

*************************************************
No part, character, names, plot, setting, conflict or resolution, point of view, theme or symbolism of this story may be replicated.

Copyright: All Rights Reserved to A. Sena Gomes.