A sharp gust of wind seeped through the carriage window, making her shiver beneath her heavy cloak. Why was New York so much colder than London? Or perhaps it was the hollowness in her chest, the ache of knowing she was leaving behind something—someone—who had become a part of her. He had insisted their relationship was impossible, that it would ruin her, harm her daughter. That the world would never allow them to be together.
Fear for her daughter had moved her to accept his decision. Yet, would it really be detrimental for Lizzie if she married Wang? She wasn’t so sure anymore. But what choice had she, when the man she loved had made it clear he would not fight for her?
The carriage jerked to a stop, the driver’s call breaking through her thoughts. The scent of salt and coal smoke filled the air. She lifted her head and looked out.
The docks stretched before her, busy with the usual chaotic energy of departure day. Men shouted orders over the screech of gulls. Crates and trunks were being hoisted onto the waitingships. Families clung to each other in tearful farewells, and travelers hurried up gangplanks, eager for the journey ahead.
With a deep breath, she steeled herself and reached for the door. She had waited. Hoped.
But Wang was not coming.
And now she must leave.
Thehackjoltedforward,hooves pounding against the frozen December streets. Not fast enough. Every second felt like water slipping through his fingers. Wang clenched his fists, his breath shallow, his pulse hammering in his ears.
“Faster,” he urged the driver.
“We’re goin’ as fast as we can, sir!” the man called back, flicking the reins.
The streets of New York were thick with midday traffic—wagons laden with goods, street vendors hollering their wares, pedestrians clogging the crossings. At every turn, another delay. A carriage overturned ahead on Broadway. A stubborn mule refusing to budge. A tangle of carts vying for space along the narrow stretch leading to the docks. The frustration coiled tight in his chest.
Every delay was a nail in the coffin of his hope to reach her in time.
At a particularly dense intersection, the coachman yanked the reins, cursing as the carriage jolted to a halt behind a slow-moving omnibus. Wang shoved open the door before the driver could protest.
“Here,” he thrust coins into the man’s gloved hand. “Keep the change.”
Then he ran.
The cold air burned his lungs, but he didn’t stop. His legs moved with frantic desperation. He weaved through the crowd, dodging barrels and crates, nearly colliding with a dockworker carrying a sack of flour. The man yelled at him in outrage. He paid no mind. He kept running.
Then he saw it.
The RMSScotiahad lifted anchor. The massive steamship, dark against the grey sky, was pulling away from the dock, its great paddle wheels churning the water.
Too late.
Still, he ran. His heartbeat a wild, uneven drumbeat in his chest. His breath came in harsh gasps. If he could just—
He reached the edge of the dock as the gap between ship and land widened. He screamed her name. His voice caught in his throat. He tried again. If she was on deck, maybe she’d hear him. He could tell her he loved her. To wait for him.
If he had been but a few minutes earlier—
But time had betrayed him.
He placed his hands on his knees, panting, watching the ship carry her away. A few passengers were on deck, still waving to family and friends who remained on the dock. But not Esther. His head bowed, the weight of failure settling over him like an iron shroud. The taste of regret was bitter on his tongue.
But defeat was not an option. He may have missed her today.
But by God, he would be on the next ship to England.
Jaw tight, he pivoted on his heel, his mind already set on his next course of action. If he couldn’t catch theScotia, he would simply find another way. The Cunard Line’s offices were nearby—he would secure passage on the next ship to England. He took a step forward, his pulse still hammering, when something made him stop.
A glimpse of a familiar face, spotted for a second through the shifting mass of people.
His breath caught.
Esther.
