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“Mr. Blackwell! What is this? My daughter! Edith! Come quickly! Michael, send for the doctor! Is she hurt?” A sudden flurry of excitement and terror, my mother running to the door, her skirts swishing and her hand over her mouth. Father ushered William into the parlor where Mother stoked the fire. He pulled the couch closer to the flame for William to lay me gently on it. It was all much too much, even if I was freezing to death.
William looked at me with a smile in his eyes before facing my father, “I was riding into town for a quick errand when I came across your carriage. I found her without a horse and driver. She was quite terrified and cold. I came as quickly as I could,” he explained while my mother worked to take off any frozen, wet layer she could. My toes protested all movement and burned near the flame.
Father snatched the tea from one of the maids and handed me a cup, burning under my fingertips. Mother tucked a blanket over me.
“Where are Samuel and the horse?” Father questioned, lighting his pipe in contemplation. It was heartening to see him so alive, his cheeks rosy with rage.
“I could find them nowhere, sir.”
“Fucking McCloude!” Father roared, shaking his pipe. “We will send out a search party. Was she hurt at all? Look at her, she is soaked!” Mary handed a cup of tea and blanket to William.
“She was standing in the rain calling for them, very worried, Mr. Abbott. It would not surprise me if she developed a cold.”
“I will not! I feel perfectly fine!” I sat up in indignation. The last thing I wanted was to be locked up in the room for a week. How could I ever be alone with William again? Had he kissed me? Could it be possible that he was as drawn to me as I was to him?
Something crept into my mind, sitting there sipping the tea with a sour look on my face:
Where was his horse? Had he just lied?
I fixed my gaze on him, my eyebrows raised and eyes full of questions. Father rambled off to my mother while they waited for the doctor, and in William’s dark green eyes I saw a sort of pleading.
He knew that I knew he’d gotten here too quickly, somehow. That he’d lied, and what for? What was he hiding under that perfectly built facade?
Chapter Four
It wasn’t long before I found myself unwell. The strange weather had gone, shifting into a near blizzard, wind howling viciously, echoing through the halls of our home and the world outside my window. The snow fell so quickly it was as if we were trapped in a snow globe spun endlessly.
Normally, the sight would bring me gratitude, allowing my mind to deafen like nature itself. However, I was stuck in my room, wrapped in quilts while pretending to read an array of novels while my mind wandered to William. Mother insisted he would drop by, he had been such a hero to me, but I worried still. Would he continue to risk his relationship with the McCloudes? Would he be able to face me again? Mother made it clear all bets were off in our protection of Greta’s match, as they suspected the McCloudes were responsible for Samuel’s disappearance. If William Blackwell came to call, it was of his own free will.
Around late evening on the second day of illness, I tossedJane Eryeat the foot of my bed and kicked off my covers in utter exasperation. Mr. Rochester wasn’t himself in my mind, but the handsome young man whose strong arms had wrapped so steadily around me and hauled me from the carriage. The way his breath caressed my cheek as he whispered in my ear…
In a frustrated huff, I crossed my arms over my chest, my breasts feeling heavier in response to the way he made my body react, my nipples perked under the rough linen of my nightgown. I jumped from the bed, trying not to think about the throbbing between my thighs, walking to my window to peer at the snow, glittering swirls of magic.
Isolated.
Irritated and anxious, I stomped back to my bed and buried my face in the covers to let my tears flow from my eyes. I needed to get him out of my mind, needed torightmyself. How could I be so unhinged?
A knock sounded softly on the door, followed by the quiet creak of it opening. I dared not move, my bare legs exposed to the cold air, night gown nearly up to my rear. With the fire dimming, whomever hurriedly drew my legs under the covers had also pulled my curtains closed and added more wood to the flame. By her toneless tongue clicking, I surmised it may have been Mary’s niece, Rebecca. She tip-toed to my door before my mother’s steps came outside.
“Mr. Blackwell is here, is Rosemary awake?”
I scrambled up, pulling the covers to my chest.
“Why, yes, Mother! I am awake!” Knowing they could both see the flush of my cheeks I hope they attributed it to illness. Rebecca smiled, shaking her head, bringing a robe to me.
“Wrap yourself up, here's your tea. Drink it up so you won't cough.” She handed me a burning cup of honey tea, helping me tie the white robe. I sat up on the pile of pillows and drew the blankets up again, placing the most perfect look of serenity I'd been taught by Mother.
Mother and Rebecca scuttled down the stairs, and another light knock came several minutes later. My heart took off in a sprint.
“You may enter,” I squeaked. The doorknob turned ever so slowly, as if teasing me and opened with a low creak. There, in the doorway of my bedroom, stood William Blackwell in all of his glory. He was dressed in a black riding habit, his right hand in his pocket and his red-brown hair tousled from the wind. He smirked as he sauntered forward with leisured steps. I wet my lower lip, grateful to have something to fidget with as I sipped from my tea, attempting to break our locked gaze.
“I heard you had fallen ill and thought I might pay a visit.” He sat at the foot of my bed, crossing his long legs effortlessly. This Grecian god was poised onmy bed, where not long ago I had been so aroused by the thought of his beautiful mouth—I cleared my throat, shaking the thought from my head.
“It's not too serious. It's just a silly cold Mother and Father have blown far out of proportion. I am well enough.” I tried to blow it off, move past it so I could interrogate him.
“Oh, with good intention. You’re much too clever to lose like your brother, they should try and protect you at all costs.” William peered at me from under dark lashes, his hand coming to my leg. “I am just glad you'll be yourself in no time.” His tone was playful, but in those emerald eyes was only sincerity. I was lost for a moment in the complexity of them, the depth, forcing myself to stare into my floral tea instead.
“Mr. Blackwell, may I ask you something?” I managed after a moment.
