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“I’m not sure where you get the gall to speak for me, Mr. Blackwell,” I remarked after a few moments of silence.
“I apologize, Rosemary, and promise to have it happen not once more.” His posture relaxed.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked impatiently.
“You will see.”
We continued on the road for some time until William swerved off to the side into the deep snow and trees. Once he stopped the horse, he hopped down and came around my side. I stared at him in disbelief.
“We’re going into the woods?” I asked, unease filtering in.
“Out, Rose! It's just right through there.” He lifted me from my seat without any trouble, despite zero cooperation. William refused to set me down, carrying me much in the same fashion as he’d done that fateful night in the rain.
I looped my arms around his neck, watching as he carefully trekked through the snow as if I didn’t weigh more than his cane.
“I can walk,” I muttered, resting my head against his shoulder. He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me.
“Yes, I know, but the snow is rather deep here, and I assume you’d prefer not to wrestle with your skirts the whole way,”
“How very thoughtful,” I mused, soaking in the features of his profile. He didn’t even huff a breath of exertion.
We passed through many bare trees until a clearing appeared with a quaint frozen pond. The stunning blue ice took up most of the space, but there at its edge was an old wooden bench. It had been worn and weathered, lichen clinging to the iron legs.
“What is this?” I asked, being set on my feet.
“It is a natural ice rink. Mother Nature placed it here and freezes it for the likes of people who know it exists every year. Come, let us sit.” He took my hand and I marveled at how perfectly our fingers intertwined. He led me to the old bench, where we sat for a moment in comfortable silence.
Two bunnies hopped out of the thick brush, their tiny noses working and ears turning to and fro. What a stark difference it was to be here, with him, as opposed to my isolation, tormented by my own thoughts in my room.
“Rose, I feel as though I must be honest with you,” William held my hand in his.
“What is it?” I asked quietly, taking in the way his fingers wrapped around mine.
“I have done you some grave disservice since I have met you–.”
“Come now,”
“Truly, at the Thanksgiving gathering, when you’d first come into the room with your mother and father, I was struck. I thought you the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and everyone had spoken so highly of you, as if they all equally admired you.”
My brows plunged but he continued, “And there I was, watching as you played this game with Greta, taken already with your charm and wit. And… I was wholly unaware of what her parents’ intentions really were–I don’t know if that says more about me than it does you for figuring it out as quickly as you did, but you must understand, my business has almost entirely been my priority until as of late. Now, knowing that this town has created such blasphemous rumors about you, I feel entirely responsible. I apologize. I did not want them in any way to assume that I was courting you or courting anyone for that matter.”
“William,” I touched his cheek.
“Please, you must understand that is the last thing I wanted, for people to talk. Where I come from, if I had given the time to you as I have been these past how many days, they would assume nothing else but that we were to marry within the month. So, though I plan to continue to treat you with the kindness, esteem, and admiration you deserve, I will not allow anyone to speak of you as they are now. I'm sorry. I did not intend to set this town into a flurry as I have.”
I waited until he finally faced me, such sadness filled his pale green eyes. A small smile touched my lips, and I clutched onto his hand.
“You do not know how much I appreciate the sentiment, William, but I do wonder if it will all make things worse.” His thumb stroked the back of my gloved palm, the tips of my fingers stinging with the bite of cold.
“Or, it could do the opposite. What sort of gentleman would tolerate the sullying of a good name? A good woman?”
“You saw how Ursula reacted earlier, she’s been my only friend–”
“Is she really such a friend to believe you would do something like that?” William’s voice grew low, empathetic.
She would know me better than anyone, she would know such a move would not even be in my bag of tricks. But it was painful still, to think she might suspect me capable. The entire thing was so odd and surreal.
I sighed through my nose. After all the time since Adam’s death, all the silence and the pain, the bleakness, I was sitting here with a man, a good man, while the town spread rumors about me and neighbors became vengeful.
