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ELISE

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“You will marry him!” John, my brother, stabbed a finger in my general direction from where he sat behind the large, ornate desk that had once belonged to our father. One of the few pieces of furniture still left. John had sold nearly everything of value.

I shook my head. “I will not! He’s mean and cruel.” I shuddered, thinking of Mr. Yates, the man John wished for me to marry. He frightened me, with his small, mean eyes, big booming voice, and the two pistols he wore under his coat. Once, I saw him slap a woman in the street, causing her to fall to her knees. No, Mr. Yates was not a man I wished to marry.

I boldly met my brother’s gaze. “I do not love him.”

“This isn’t about love, Elise.”

“No.” I cut my brother off. “It’s about money. Everything’s about money, isn’t it?”

John had whittled away the fortune our father had left for us, and Mr. Yates was wealthy. John had promised him my hand in marriage as payment for the substantial gambling debts he owed and Mr. Yates had accepted this arrangement, spreading the word all over Philadelphia that I was to be his wife. He was even planning an engagement party, predicted to be the biggest even of the year. Everyone who was anyone in Philadelphia society would be there. Except I couldn’t go through with it. The very thought of becoming Mrs. Yates made me feel sick. I did not want to spend the rest of my life living in terror.

No doubt John also figured having a rich brother-in-law would guarantee him future funds, and he would be able to carry on living, and gambling, in the manner to which he had become accustomed. I had no such delusions. Mr. Yates was as selfish as he was cruel. Once he had me where he wanted me – under his thumb, living in fear for my life, entertaining his business cronies – John’s access to any potential funds would dry up. I had no doubt.

“I will not marry him,” I said again, more forcefully this time.

John slapped his palms against the desktop, the loud crack of his hands against the wood making me jump. His chair scraped backwards as he stood up and anger flashed across his face as he leaned forwards across the desk in a threatening manner. John was used to getting his own way. He wasn’t used to being challenged. Especially not by me. Fear welled up in my throat. John and I had never been close. He was much older than me and our mother had died in childbirth while having me. John blamed me for her death. I had never believed he hated me, but he had never been particularly kind. I was an annoyance to be tolerated, rather than a baby sister to love and care for.

I swallowed back my fear and stood my ground. I wasn’t as afraid of my brother as I was of Mr. Yates. John might be desperate, but he was my brother! Surely he wouldn’t hurt me! At least he hadn’t done in the past, when our father had been alive. My heart pounded as John and I looked at each other, then he rounded the desk and stood in front of me, fury contorting his face into an ugly frown.

“You will marry him!” His loud voice was laced with anger.

“I will not!” I yelled bravely back.

Now, as we stood toe to toe, staring at each other, I realized I was wrong. John cared not a whit about me; he only cared that I do as he bid. He raised his hand to strike me and I turned and fled.

I could hear his footsteps pounding on the carpeted floor behind me as I ran from the room, but the accident John had been in last year was my saving grace – his limp slowed him down.

“Come back here!” he yelled. “You cannot hide from me!”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I picked up my skirts and ran down the stairs, knowing John could not follow at this fast pace. He would have to hold the banister and pick his way carefully, otherwise he would fall.

“You cannot run from your future!” my brother yelled from the landing as I flew into the kitchen and out the back door, onto the street.

As I ran, my fingers instinctively felt for the coins I’d secreted, sewn into the lining of my skirt. Good. They were still there. The few gold eagles I’d saved from my brother’s gambling were my path to freedom.

But where would I go? My family was well known in this part of Philadelphia thanks to our father’s business success, and my brother was feared, almost as much as Mr. Yates. John was used to getting what he wanted, and had used our father’s money to ensure he did. He had dangerous men at his beck and call, always ready to do his bidding. They weren’t aware that John’s funds had dried up and they would stop at nothing to carry out my brother’s orders. I didn’t know anybody who would hide me or protect me. Nobody would be willing to go against my powerful brother, and he was far more desperate to marry me off than I had realized.

Not wanting to draw attention to myself by running down the street, I slowed to a walk.


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