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She shook her head and fell silent. Edward understood almost immediately. “You’ve never had it.”
“It costs a few coins more than I would care to spend,” she said.
“And yet you bought it for me,” Edward said. It was becoming more and more clear to him that the conditions of their living were not just less than ideal, they were on the brink of destitution. He saw it in her clothes, in the way the paint peeled off the walls. And even though she had opened a window to let the sun in and given him two blankets, he was still cold.
“You need it more,” she insisted. Ariadne leaned over to check his temperature. Despite himself, Edward’s eyes drifted toward her lovely bosom. He could see the faint curve of the—
“Your fever seems to have gone down,” she said, settling back beside him. The girl had no idea of social dictums otherwise she wouldn’t be on the same bed as him. Edward didn’t mind her closeness. The old Edward would, but something inside him had changed fundamentally. “But we should be careful, so please have the soup.”
She nudged the tray toward him and he had no choice but to oblige even though he didn’t have much appetite.
“Do you want me to feed you?” she asked.
He wanted her to. Wanted? Since when had he started to want things? No, this wouldn’t do at all.
“I’m hardly afraid of soup,” he said in jest, trying to soften the blow. She had so gracefully offered to feed him, after all. The soup turned out to be extremely delicious. Edward didn’t think that after the sumptuous Michaelmas dinner at Buckingham Palace that he had with the King last year, he would find something life altering in food. But here in this small London flat, in a slum no less, he found it.
“It’s very good,” he said. He continued to drink it without interruption. Ariadne watched him as he finished up the soup and then leaned back, satisfaction evident in the smack of his lips.
She was smiling at him. She was beautiful but looked even more stunning with the corner of her lips curved upwards. And she was smiling at him! “What?” Edward couldn’t help but ask. Something inside him tugged.
“I thought you weren’t hungry. But you ate like a ravenous man.”
“I may have been a little hungry,” Edward admitted.
“You didn’t eat yesterday.”
“I was sleeping,” Edward pointed out. “Besides it’s a little hard to tell when a wound is pressing down on your side like this.” He pointed at the knife wound.
Immediately, worry replaced her smile and Edward internally cursed himself. He wanted to see her smile the entire day. Was something wrong with him? Had he hurt his head too hard in the fall?
“You’re certain you’re all right?”
“I am,” Edward assured her. Ariadne nodded but she didn’t look too convinced.
“You should rest and let your body heal,” Ariadne said. “If you get too cold, tell me. I…I’ll do something about it.”
“I will,” Edward said. Another thought occurred to him. “Did you sleep at all the last two days?” He pointed his chin to the chair with a blanket on it. It didn’t look too comfortable.
“Not really,” Ariadne admitted. She rubbed the back of her neck. It appeared as if she was in pain. How had she slept, if she had at all? “Someone had to make sure that you didn’t want for anything.”
“I’m fine now,” Edward said. “You can rest.”
“Are you certain?” she asked.
Edward nodded. “If I need something, I’ll scream for you. My vocal cords are fine.”
At that Ariadne smiled and Edward found a savage satisfaction of bringing it back to her face.
“All right, Sir. I’ll take my leave.” She turned on her skirts and left. Edward watched her as she walked out of the room—the little sway in her hips, the small of her waist, her unkempt hair which was slowly coming undone from her pins. She didn’t seem to care much about her appearance. His little sister Maisie wouldn’t be caught dead in her own chamber like that.
Ariadne was different from most girls. Was that reason that he kept thinking about her and the adorable beauty spot just above her lips even after she was gone?
