Page 32 of A Heart Too Tender

Colette

Maude was waiting for me in my room when I returned from the trial.

“How did you do?” She asked, wringing her hands in her apron.

I shook my head, but my smile never wavered. “I failed again.”

She frowned and studied my expression. “And you are happy with this?”

I strode across my room and took her hands in mine. “I have something to tell you …”

And I told her everything. The dance with the stranger, my every interaction with Julian, and the growing affection I could no longer deny. After I had explained my heart’s most inner desires she pulled me to my feet and towards the bathing chamber.

“You must tell him how you feel as soon as I finish getting you ready.”

“And you’re not mad at me?”

Maude’s hair gleamed like the rain-soaked cedar trees as she shook her head. “You cannot help who you love, my child.”

With my dinner dress on and my hair down, I felt like a new person. My steps came quick and my chest felt light. The hallways were empty and the only light was coming from flickering candelabras hung along the wall.

There was an all-encompassing peace that seeped from this place and into my bones, like sinking into a comforting couch and settling in with a good book. I realized I was beginning to love this place and my steps faltered.

There was something familiar here. I glanced around at the artwork on the walls, and to the thick runner beneath my feet. Nothing obvious stood out. But I felt the same here that I had walking the halls of my home. How strange … the passage of time, in a blink of an eye, and everything feels changed.

Nothing drastic has happened, no victories, or monumental milestones that I could account for—and yet—I am changed. As sudden as the sensation appears, it vanishes, and I’m left feeling as if I have transformed into a new me, and yet no outward appearance of myself has changed. Just a quiet secret I carry.

When I finally reached the dining room I found it empty. A servant scuttled past me with a tray of barely eaten food. She was in too much of a hurry and I didn’t want to bother her, but when another walked in with empty hands, I cleared my throat.

“Excuse me … did I miss dinner?”

The poor girl looked startled, her riot of curls springing as she flinched. The color of her hair was the richest, darkest violet, like twilight, and a smattering of freckles across her nose resembled a starry sky.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered out, wringing her hands in her ruffled apron. “But I-I c-can set you u-up on the p-patio with the Governor?”

The exact person I longed to see.

“I would love that.”

She scuttled out just as quickly as she appeared and then returned a few moments later with an oak tray leaden with plates, silverware, and crystal glasses.

“F-follow me,” she stuttered out and disappeared through the double glass doors in the dining room.

Julian was sprawled in a lounge chair, one long muscular leg stretched out, the other bent, as he read by the light of the torch beside his lounger.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

He looked up quickly at my voice, a genuine smile stretching across his face. There was a clatter of plates being set on the table behind me and the swish of the servant’s dress as she sped away.

“Not at all. Did you miss dinner?” he asked, snapping his book shut.

“I did,” I replied.

“How fortunate for me,” he said, as he pulled my chair out, his smile stretched broadly across his face, crinkling the corner of his eyes in a way I had grown to admire.

The young girl swept back onto the terrace, a silver decanter in her hand, and she began pouring our wine as Julian took his seat.

“Do you often dine alone?” I asked, not understanding why he was out here so late.