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It took my parents what seemed like ages to retire themselves. When I finally pressed my ear to the door and heard my father's faint snoring, I tiptoed toward the east wing where the guest rooms were, the house dark, quiet, and frigid.
I could barely see where I was going, guiding myself with my hands dragging the wall until I found the guest door which was always offered first. When I took the handle, it spun underneath my touch and swung open swiftly. William stood in front of his fireplace, his shirt off, trousers drooping loosely around his hips. My mouth dried.
“You may enter, Rose,” he said, turning his head but never looking at me. The muscles of his back were prominent in the dim lighting, rippling under his skin. He was so ethereal, yearning churned within my belly for him.
I stepped into the room, shutting the door silently behind me. He turned completely toward me then, crossing his arms over his bare chest. I stared for a moment, my hand on the doorknob still, back against the wood. He raised his eyebrows, crossing the room in a handful of graceful strides. Placing his hands on the door—one on each side of me—he leaned in and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
I held my breath, unsure of what he was going to do, for there was something in the air that was not familiar to me, not at all like last night. It was not a sexual charge, but a primal and terrifying one. One that told me to run.
“Are you unwell? Why did you leave at dinner?” I asked shakily.
“You aren't an idiot are you, my Rose?” he asked quietly, opening his blazing emerald eyes. I shook my head, never letting my gaze leave his. There was something off, something unnerving, predatory. The hair on my neck stood on end. “You must have seen something to make you so... timid now.” William's voice, usually tender toward me, was harsh and black, tongue coming over his lip.
I sucked in a sharp breath, the air stuck in my throat. Yes, I had seen things that made me question, and yes, something in my stomach told me to run from him, but I didn't know what it was, or if it was worth listening to.
“My love—”
“You know not what it is.” This was not a question, but a confirmation.
“No,” I whispered. A menacing snicker, William pulled away, pacing to the other side of the room.
“My dear, dear Rosemary. How do I explain this to you? You know not what it is, but you know I amother.” I made no move as he spoke. I did not know what I considered him. “Whatever it is I am, you need not worry your pretty little head about it. I won't harm you or anyone you love. I am of course, in some way different from yourself, but you won’t know. Not now, not when we are married. Do I make myself clear?” He loped back toward me and stood in the same position as before, hands on either side of me.
“Yes.”
“Good. It is for your protection, Iswearit. Now… may I kiss you?” William’s lips found mine, giving me no time to answer.
I turned my head, refusing to kiss him back. This was not how I wanted it to go. He made an animalistic sound, grabbing my jaw with one of his strong hands, his nails biting into my skin. Harshly, William tilted my head toward him. I yelped from the pain, heart sputtering from pure fear.
“William, I must go back to my room.” The words were distorted from the grip he held on my jaw. He laughed humorlessly, letting go of me to walk back in front of the hearth.
“Be gone then,Miss Abbott.” His words were icy and sliced me like a thousand knives. Tears welled in my eyes and I was unsure of what to do.
“I'm sorry, I don’t mean to upset you, I—”
“Yes, yes, I've heard this all before. Get out!” William, whatever he was, was in front of me in a blink, his eyes wide in anger and nostrils flared. Shadows gathered around his cheekbones, his breathing heavy while he shoved me out of the way, yanking open his door, and guiding me out, fingers digging into the skin of my shoulder. “Good night,Miss Abbott,” he mocked, and slammed his door.
Truly horrified, I ran quickly to my bedroom, shut and locked it carefully, jumping into my bed. Pulling the blankets up and over my head, my brain ran in a thousand different directions.
Then, in the confines of my fortress, I began to cry.
He said he was different, that was obvious. In what way, I could not piece together, nor had I attempted to broach the subject. I wondered if he was capable of causing me harm, and though I thought his paranormal powers were exclusive to the speed at which he traveled, perhaps it applied to his strength, how he never appeared to eat, and his lithe movements. His eyes… from the deep emerald green to the watery light green, what did it mean?
He said his secrecy was to protect me, but what was there to be protected from? I came up with nothing.
Was it possible for me to live with him and not ever know what he really was? I sat up in agitation, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, trying to stay warm. A chill had settled into my bones, into my very soul.
He would not trust his wife with such information, information as important as what he was. Questions pressed against my skull and bubbled behind my lips, badgering to escape for answers.
William had warned me not to figure it out, but I couldn't help the thrill of a dangerous mystery; I was human after all, if he wasn't. I tried to calm my restless mind with plans of research, somehow keeping it a secret from him.
It was some time until I quieted my mind enough to sleep.
***
The morning which followed was Christmas morning. We spent the early portion of it unwrapping gifts of trinkets from one another. William was cautious with me, his eyes guarded and distant.
By noon, my mother and father had left for church service while I claimed a headache and sprawled out on the settee in the parlor. I closed my eyes, turning over in my mind how I was going to sneak to the library and validate reading books of a certain nature.
