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"I wish I felt as passionate about anything as you sounded just then," he says lightly.
I turn my head to look at him.
"I think I could feel that way about you," he whispers when our eyes meet.
With that our love story begins.
James Kensington
James has disappeared this week. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. We've been inseparable the past few weeks, both spending every second that we can together. Although he did send a messenger to the manor with a note that simply said that he had several urgent things to attend to this week, and that he would come to me as soon as he could, something feels wrong.
There are also the whispers I keep hearing about special visitors from France that arrived at the castle right before James's note was sent. James had told me that relations with France were troubled, and that war was a possibility, so I tried to see The French Contingency's visit as a good thing.
The feeling in my stomach says otherwise.
I'm trying to go to sleep, but similar to how the rest of the week went, I'm not finding much success. My brain is whirling for possible reasons for James's disappearance. I feel like I've been possessed and am cursing love and everything about it when a tap sounds on my window.
I sit up in bed, listening for any other sounds. Apingsounds on my window, and I stand up and tentatively walk towards it, careful to try and stay out of sight so I can see what is causing the sound. There's anotherping, and I realize that someone is throwing pebbles against it. Using the curtains to hide me from view, I glance down and see that James is underneath my window.
I hurriedly crack it open.
"What are you doing down there?" I hiss.
"Can you let me in?" he whispers, and I nod and hurry to go downstairs, pulling my heavy robe on first over my nightgown.
I open one of the side doors, and gesture him inside. We creep upstairs, trying not to alert any of the servants. Father is out of town once again, so we don't have to worry about him happening upon us, but I don't want the servants telling him tales upon his return. We finally get to my room and I softly close my door behind us, shutting us inside.
Before I can say anything, I'm in his arms, and he's kissing me like I'm necessary to his very existence. While the kissing is lovely, the edge of desperation to it has me concerned.
"James?" I ask, pulling away and surveying him fully for the first time.
There are bags under his eyes showing a level of exhaustion that I haven't seen in him before. There's a haggardness to his appearance as if the weight of the world is upon him. Combined together, it's clear that something is terribly wrong.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, staring deeply into my eyes.
"Of course," I tell him fervently. "But you're scaring me."
"Promise me that you won't believe anything you hear," he pleads.
"James, just tell me what's wrong."
"Just promise," he responds.
I look at him for a long moment before answering.
"I promise," I whisper. No sooner than the words are out of mouth, then he's devouring my lips again. His kiss heavy with unspoken things.
"I have to go," he says, when he finally breaks off the kiss.
"So soon?" I ask, feeling the loss of his warmth already.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he replies, beginning to walk backwards away from me. "Just remember your promise."
I nod, and he finally turns and begins to jog to where his horse is waiting tied to a fence post.
I watch as he rides away without a backwards glance, my chest heavy with a sense of foreboding.
Another week passes. James sends me long letters filled to the brim with reassurances of how in love he is with me. I don't actually see him though. I reread the letters what seems like millions of times, trying to understand what's going on.
