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Chapter Twenty-One
Rose did not try to get Dorian to talk to her as they returned from the boathouse. Her mind was too full of every wondrous, breathtaking new sensation she had experienced in that isolated shelter, and the fear that it had been nothing but a fevered dream. As though his kiss upon her lips and his body against hers had been little more than a mirage in a barren desert. But there was hope in his closeness as he walked at her side.
“Goodnight, Rose,” he said, as he stopped so they could part ways, out of sight of the house. “Please remember that you did nothing wrong and that my affections for you are as they were. I just… need to gather my thoughts.”
She dipped her head. “Goodnight, Dorian. Please remember thatyoudid nothing wrong and that my feelings are unchanged. I hope, one day soon, I will better understand your mind, so I’m not so confused about where I stand.”
“You stand in my heart.” He lowered his gaze, his expression heartbreakingly sad. “It is the rest that I must consider.”
“Then I will give you your time,” she replied. Not wanting to cause him any further upset, for she could see that she would gain no satisfactory answers about his state of mind tonight, she walked away from him. Although, she worried that she would not be able to find an opportunity to speak with him again to remedy this discomfort between them.
He’ll undoubtedly avoid me… so, I’ll have to make an opportunity.Determined, she slipped through the wide cut between the trees and made for the house. However, she did not go straight to her chambers, as she ought to have done. Her dress was still too wet, and her mind was still too muddled with confusion and hurt to return there, where the girls might see her and begin their gossip afresh.
Instead, she crept around the back of the house until she reached the courtyard that housed the laundry outbuilding. She knew it would not be locked, for there was nothing worth stealing within. Creaking open the door, she went to her usual corner, on the far right, and sank down onto her customary bench. There, she reached for a box of matches and lit the candle on her worktable that she rarely used.
In the paltry glow, which paled in comparison to the heavenly illumination that the lantern had cast upon the boathouse, and the exquisite, secret embrace she had shared with Dorian, she rolled her head in her hands and let loose her tears.
I’ll be sent away from here if he decides not to act on his feelings. I know I will.Even if he continued to pretend that they had not shared a moment of sensual delight, she feared for the guilt and blame that he lay at his own door. If that grew too much for him to bear, she would have to wave goodbye to this new life she had gained for herself… She felt sure of it.
She touched her fingertips to her lips and closed her eyes, imagining that the trace of her skin was Dorian’s lips on hers again. Her abdomen fluttered as she remembered how ferociously he had pulled her to him, his hands strong and insistent on her waist and her back, yet how gentle and passionate his mouth had been, and how tenderly he had cradled her neck.
“What else must he consider?” she whispered to no-one at all. “Does he think I’m trying to extort him? Does he worry about my intentions?” After all, he was the one with status and position, while she had nothing to offer him but herself and everything she was. Perhaps, he did not think that an equal exchange.
She put her hands down onto the bench to brace herself against her sadness when her left palm touched on something smooth and papery. Startled, she drew her hand back. Her heart jumped in her chest as she took a second to catch her breath before reaching back down for the unknown article.
On the bench, pinned underneath a round pebble, she found what appeared to be a letter. Cautiously, she lifted it up to the light of the candle and gasped as she saw her name written across the front:Miss Rose Parker.Someone must have placed it here after she finished her duties for the day, for it had not been there when she left the laundry many hours ago.
A nervous smile turned up the corners of her lips as she turned the letter over and broke open the plain seal on the back.It must be from Dorian, left here for me to find tomorrow. At least he’s learned from his last offering. Perhaps, it’ll give me some insight into how he was feeling before he came to meet me. Then, I might know where I stand. I might find that there’s still hope, even after what just happened.
She tore it open and began to read, and her hope swiftly turned to ashes in her mouth:
Dear Miss Parker,
I have been watching you. I have seen you, and I pity you, for you are about to tread upon a spider’s web that you will not be able to escape unless you wrench yourself free immediately. You will be devoured by His Lordship, as he devours all those who are innocent and sweet and vulnerable to his charms. He will destroy you, as he destroys all who deign to care for him. He, on the other hand, does not know how to care. He is inhuman. He is marked as such.
You ought to abandon this house while you still can and return from whence you came. Beg forgiveness of those you left and be content that you have escaped with your life. Others have not been so fortunate. You must think, Miss Parker, why would a sane gentleman choose to spend so many years upon a battlefield, if he did not thirst for the destruction of others?
If you do not go, there will be further letters, for I am watching you, always. Take this as your first warning to leave. The next will be more than a warning. I only pray that you are sensible enough to heed what I say, or you may come to regret it.
Yours Sincerely,
A Conscientious Observer.
Rose re-read the letter several times, though it grew more chilling with every repetition. Although deep down, her terror transformed into anger, for though the handwriting was cleverly disguised in a chicken scratch that took time to decipher, she had an unnerving, enraging sense of who had sent this to her— her father.
He doesn’t know that I saw him in the trees. He mustn’t be aware that I’m also watching for him.She scrunched the letter into her hand, her tears drying on her cheeks, evaporated by the searing heat of her ire. He had evidently done his research with regards to Dorian and hoped to frighten her into leaving by twisting what he had discovered.
“I’ll never beg your forgiveness!” she hissed into the gloomy room. “You can watch me and send me all the letters you like, but I’ll never come back to you. And if you try to threaten me, I’ll find you, and I’ll see you chased from this estate. Do you hear me?” Her voice grew louder. “I’ll leave if Dorian tells me to leave. Even then, I’ll put up a fight!”
Silence swarmed around her, though she saw her father’s leering face in every flicker of shadow that danced against the laundry walls and stone floor.
“You won’t scare me, as you’ve done for most of my life!” She gripped the ball of paper in a tight fist, her knuckles whitening. “I decide what I do with my life now, not you. If you think this has done anything to dissuade me from staying here, you’re wrong. It has only made me more determined!”
Dragging in sharp breaths as she looked to the darkened windows and tried to make out the glisten of any peering eyes, she sat up straighter and squared her shoulders, ready to battle for her freedom if she had to.
I should tell Dorian about this… I have to. I’ve kept it quiet for long enough.For though Dorian might have been somewhat reluctant to be in her presence, with so much on his mind, she knew he would be her only protection against her father if he tried to steal her away from this place. And that frightened her more than any rebuke that Dorian could give her.
The following morning, with that same fire still burning in her belly, and a sleepless night in the laundry making her all the more anxious, she did something she had never dared to do before. Knowing it would bring the intrigued chatter of the staff, she strode straight into the main house and positioned herself on the green velvet chaise directly opposite the curving staircase in the entrance hall. When he came down to breakfast, he would have no choice but to see her.
