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“Return to me quickly,” I murmured, pressing my lips against his jaw. William titled his head just so his lips would touch mine. He brought one hand to the roundness of my abdomen and my body came alight.
“I will; take care of my child,” he whispered against my lips. My joints melted, the stress of him leaving only temporarily eased by his loving words and touches. He stood with me in his arms, lips still connected, to set me on my bed. I clambered to my knees, not wanting him to part just yet, and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him to me. We giggled as we kissed, his hands nearly engulfing my waist, mine in his hair. William gently pulled away from my grip and smiled.
“I must be leaving.” There was something guarded in his eyes as he extracted himself and, in three lithe strides, quietly left my room. I could only sit in the same place, chilly from the morning air, staring at the empty space. Finally, when I was sure he was gone, I flopped onto the pillows, unwilling to come to grips with the fact that I was alone, again. Sleep quelled my troubled thoughts.
Midweek arrived quickly, much to my relief, with the wedding preparations making for busy days and little idle time. Everything was utter chaos as Mother and Mary worked around the clock to ensure the wedding looked as normal as possible. They feared any untouched detail would signal the taboo secret, which threatened to have them combust at any moment.
After breakfast, I snuck outside toward our orchard, frantic to be away from them and their furious energy. I was grateful for their direction, for their control over it all, but their constant badgering made me irate. Mother took every opportunity in her planning to berate me and my unwise decision making.
The day was quiet in comparison to any other. There were no birds chirping, no animals scurrying for food or warmth. Something uneasy bloomed in my gut and I continued to peer over my shoulder every few moments, the feeling of being watched crawling across my skin. Perhaps, I told myself, it was simply the anxiety of all the unhinged preparedness in the house.
I tried to focus on the scenery of my parents’ property sprawling over acres of land. Their estate, rich with orchard trees, was shrouded within a clearing of thick North Atlantic Forest. It was always my sanctuary. The periwinkle sky opened wide above, the sun shining brightly and warming what it could of the winter air. Each breath I took was lighter than the next as I made my way to the orchard gate, the trees spindly and naked in their winter slumber. By spring, they’d be budding, stretching their limbs as they woke to bear the fruit of the season.
My disquiet was all but forgotten by the time I reached the iron arch marking the entrance to the orchard itself. I ran my hand down the cold, metal post as I took in the rows and rows of sleeping trees. How often had I run through them with Adam as a child? Mother would come and find us for supper when we’d already eaten our fill of fruit in the late summers.
I crossed the entrance, brushing past the naked limbs as I walked. I could almost hear the ghost of Adam’s laughter, almost feel him beside me as I continued my trek through the rows. In the heart of the orchard sat a bench, a small clearing where I'd spend hours in the spring, reading amongst the blossoms. On the bench I had carved many figures as a child, my initials forever etched deep into the soft wood.
Sitting on the bench, I stretched out my legs, the muscles protesting after being cooped up inside for so long. I ran my fingers over one of the carvings I’d made, a little boy and girl. Forlorn nostalgia weaved blackened tendrils over my heart.
The crack of a limb sounded from behind, startling me after having adjusted to the silence of the orchard. My spine straightened, blood pounding loudly in my ears as I slowly twisted around to look.
Scanning down the neat rows of trees, I could find nothing. Empty.
I came to my feet, the sound of rapid movement to my left and I whirled around to emptiness. A giggle to my opposite side, the hair all over my body standing on end. A scream was building in my throat, I knew who it was.
Turning on my heels, the scream that escaped my mouth before I had ever given it permission, was stifled from her gloved hand.
Her hair tickled my cheek as she pressed her front to my back, the other hand winding around my waist. The scent of vanilla and smoke enveloped me.
“Rosemary,” Noel purred in my ear. Her breath was ice, sending tingles down my spine as she released her hand from my mouth. I turned to face her, eyes wide in terror. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, dark curls framing her angular jaw. Her full mouth fixed in a wicked smirk, lips the color of a ripened cherry. Noel looked utterly dangerous, the embodiment of sin. My chest lurched.
I took a clumsy step backward, throwing my hands up to my stomach as if to protect it, but she suddenly closed the distance again, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Is that anyway to treat an acquaintance?” Her voice mocked me.
“Leave me alone,” I demanded, voice shaking with fear.
She chortled, “Perhaps William has finally shared our secret with you!”
“Leave!” I said again, attempting to walk around her. She gripped my arm, her razor like talons biting through the sleeve of my coat. Slowly Noel pulled me toward her, dragging the finger of her other hand across my jaw.
“What does he see in you?” she murmured, squeezing into my flesh.
“Please stop!” Her nails were like glass in my skin, and I tried fruitlessly to remove her hand with no luck. Her hold was a vice, unmovable. In mock pity, she released me.
I fell to my knees, vomit threatening to make its way up to the back of my throat, my arm throbbing, the wound visible underneath the torn fabric.. Noel crouched, mere inches from me as she sniffed, tracing my neck with her fingernail. I flinched away from her, but she locked her hand around my neck, crushing my windpipe, my vision turning black.
“Fuck,” she cursed. Noel’s hand released me, air rushing back into my lungs. I choked, gulping air in madness. When I opened my eyes, Noel was gone. Not a single trace of her presence remained. I choked on my gasp of relief, bringing my hand to my throbbing throat.
The sound of all too quick movement came again. I fumbled to the bench as William appeared. A sob of gratitude broke free as I reached for him and he pulled me to my feet, strong hands holding my waist. He looked me over quickly, eyes frenzied, terrifying teeth bared.
“Stay put!” he growled, suddenly disappearing himself. My eyes flitted through the rows and rows of trees, attempting to catch some glance of him or Noel, but there was nothing. Broken cries, chest humming in horror, I ran toward the iron gate, a place I’d once felt so safe in now seemed like a hunting ground. I gripped my skirts in my hands, hoisting them as high as they would go so I could make longer strides, sobs leaving me freely as I ran. It was too much, it was all too much.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a figure chasing me, and I’d never felt so helpless in my life. True terror propelled me forward.
“Rosemary!” a voice called, they gripped me mid-run, wrapping their arms around my waist as I pushed myself forward. I shrieked in horror, banging my fists against their chest as I cried.
“My love, please,” William murmured, taking my wrists in on of his hands as I fought against him.
