Sapphire

by Sarah Olson

  “Promise me you won’t tell your parents. It’s not me that’s against you, it’s them, but they are my only family and I need them.”

  “Of course I won’t.” Richard took my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to look at him. “I will never do anything to hurt you or your family, I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You have to realize we will have to tell your aunt and uncle about us. There isn’t any way around it.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I just don’t know how.”

  “My mother and father want to meet you next Friday. What if we find a way for your aunt and uncle to meet me before then, perhaps a dinner?”

  “At the palace?” I asked incredulously.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  I smiled weakly. “Richard, I don’t think my aunt and uncle will allow me to go.”

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t turn down a royal invitation from my parents.”

  I shrugged, a feeling of unease creeping into my gut.

  “Is it you don’t want to come?”

  “No, I do—I really do, I’m just afraid. Afraid my aunt and uncle would be awfully upset, and that your parents will hate me.”

  Richard pulled me into a hug. “They won’t hate you, Layla,” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t think anyone could ever hate you.”

  I pressed my head into his chest, breathing in his scent. “I’m willing to try then.”

  “Good,” he said, letting me go. “How about you tell them you want to invite a guest over for dinner this Saturday? Would that work?”

  I nodded.

  “And I will bring a personal invitation from my father for you to come and visit.”

  I smiled, hoping and praying he was right—that this would work.

  “Now, let’s put that lesson away and go riding.”

  Even though fall was in the air, it had not fully settled and a particularly warm breeze had blown into the forest. Richard and I rode through the forest talking and laughing until we came to a deep section of the river. We dismounted to let the horses have a drink.

  “What’s this?” Richard asked, walking up to a large tree with an old rope that hung over the water.

  “Robert put it up one year so I could use it to swing into the river,” I replied, remembering all the summers I spent here with Charlotte and Tristan.

  “Is it fun?” Richard asked.

  “Of course,” I said, laughing. “You’ve never done that before?”

  “I’ve gone swimming, but not this.”

  “You must try it sometime.”

  Without another word, Richard pulled off his boots and shed his coat.

  “Richard!” I exclaimed. “The water is too cold!”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said with a sly smile. Richard grabbed onto the rope and pulled on it to make sure it was sturdy enough to hold him. Satisfied, he backed up, and then ran toward the water. I feared the old rope would not hold but it did and Richard went flying into the river.

  After a second, he broke through the surface laughing. “It feels wonderful! Come join me!”

  “I don’t know . . .” I said, uncertainly.

  “Come on, Layla,” he urged.

  I looked over at the rope and then back to Richard. Despite myself, I slid off my riding boots and began to unbutton my dress since I knew I would never hear the end of it if Betsy knew I went swimming in it. Not that she would be too keen on the thought that I went swimming with a man. “I’m coming!” I exclaimed, shoving the thought aside.

  I felt strange standing there in my shift in front him, but when he called to me again, I walked over to the rope and grabbed onto it. I backed up holding it tightly in my hands and then ran forward pulling up my feet to swing over the blue water. Before I could decide to let go, I felt the rope snap and I went plummeting into the icy river with a scream. The waves swallowed me up as I fell into their grasp. The bubbles from my splash tickled my arms as I swam up, gasping for air.

  “Are you all right?” Richard asked, swimming towards me.

  “I think so,” I replied, catching my breath. “I guess that rope couldn’t handle the two of us.” I dunked my head under again to get the hair out of my face.

  “I guess not. I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to be able to get you to come in.”

  “I almost didn’t.” I swam to a shallower spot where I could stand. “Just know this—when you meet my aunt and uncle, do not tell them we went swimming. My aunt would be furious if she heard I went swimming in my shift with you.”

  “Not a word,” Richard laughed, splashing me.

  “Richard!”

  I splashed him back, and then we were chasing and splashing each other through the water. Suddenly, Richard disappeared from sight.

  “Richard!” I called out. Only the water lapping against the bank answered me . . . “Richard!”

  His arms came out from behind and pulled me down. I spun around in his grasp and pushed myself back up through the surface.

  He came up laughing.

  “Richard!” I exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”

  “I was only playing.”

  His blonde hair was darker now that it was wet. Beads of water ran down his face as drops fell from his hair. He no longer looked like a prince, but like a young man enjoying himself.

  He caught me staring at him and smiled. “You know, you are still every bit as beautiful when you are wet.”

  I blushed as I pictured my dripping hair and reddening eyes. “I doubt that.”

  He pushed my wet hair back and slid his hand behind my neck. “I’m serious.”

  I felt goose bumps rise all over my body, but could not tell if it was from the cold water or his touch. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said, shivering.

  Richard gave me his crooked smile and then leaned into kiss me. His lips were warm against mine. I took his face in my hands as he slid his hands down my waist pulling me against him. His kiss and touch made me forget the icy water that lapped against my skin and for a moment, I felt warm—desire and passion surging through me. Richard pulled away and I found myself gasping for air.

  “We should get out and dry up before we head back,” he said.

  I knew he was right, but could not help wanting to feel his lips on mine again. I saw the same longing in his eyes when I nodded in agreement.

  We swam to the bank and got out. The breeze was cold against my wet skin as I found a spot in the sunlight to lie down and dry off. Richard came over to join me and laced his fingers through mine. We lay there, drying under the sun together hand in hand, watching the clouds roll across the blue sky.

  That night I stayed quiet as we ate dinner trying to come up with a way to ask if we could have Richard over for dinner.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Robert asked me.

  I glanced down at my plate and realized I had torn my bread into shreds. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, but my smile was not fooling him.

  “Is there something you’d like to say?”

  I stuck a piece of bread in my mouth and swallowed. When I glanced back up at him, his eyes were still on me. Betsy had also stopped eating and was watching me intently.

  Now or never, Layla. I cleared my throat. “I—I was wondering if I could invite someone over for dinner this Saturday.”

  Robert raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

  “Just a friend,” I said too quickly.

  “Does this friend have a name?” Betsy asked.

  “Can’t it be a surprise?” I asked, knowing a surprise was a terrible idea.

  Robert eyed me carefully, and I could not keep the lies up any longer.

  “Richard. His name is Richard.”

  Betsy’s fork clattered down onto her plate.

  “Prince Richard?” Robert asked through a clenched jaw.

  I nodded, fearing his fury.

  “Why wo
uld he want to come to dinner here?” Betsy said.

  “Because he wants to meet you!” I exclaimed. “I know I should have told you about him earlier, but I was afraid to. He is so kind, Aunt Betsy, I promise.”

  “You mean to tell us you have been seeing the prince?” Betsy asked, wiping her hands angrily on her napkin.

  “We haven’t done anything!” I said defensively. “He’s just visited me a few times, that’s all!”

  “How dare you go behind our backs? Especially when you know exactly how we feel about the royal family!”

  “He isn’t bad! He is a great man, and I like him very much. Why can’t you just give him a chance?”

  “And how do you suppose we were going to do that? How many times has he been here when we’ve been gone? He never even asked for permission to come and see you, which is completely disrespectful!”

  “What are you going to do?” I snapped. “He is the prince. If he wants to see me, he can, with or without your permission.”

  “You insolent child! How dare you talk to us like we are beneath you?” She was about to add more when she broke into a fit of coughing.

  “Betsy, dear…please,” Robert said when she finished and wiped her mouth on her handkerchief. “This is not the way to solve this problem.”

  The traces of the anger I had seen on his face were gone and replaced with a strained seriousness.

  “Then what do you suppose we do?” Betsy gasped. “Let her do whatever she wants after everything we have done for her? After protecting her and—”

  “Now is not the time,” Robert interrupted.

  Protecting me? From what? What could they possibly be protecting me from by keeping me away from the prince, one of the only people in this entire kingdom whose words held enough power to protect whomever he wished?

  “Layla, look at me,” Robert said. “You have to understand there is so much I wish I could say to you so you would stop seeing him, but I can’t. In the end, everything you do is up to you, but as long as you are in this house, you must abide by our rules. I will not keep you from seeing him, because I know how you are and you will do it anyway. Therefore, I am going to restrict you. I forbid you to have him over when we are not around. Send him word we will be expecting him this Saturday for dinner, and then perhaps we can find what it is you see in him.”

  “Robert!” Betsy exclaimed, horrified.

  “Don’t argue with me, I see no other way to solve this.”

  “You do realize this isn’t a little fling,” I told them.

  “Then enlighten me,” Betsy said sarcastically.

  “Richard is talking of marrying me,” I said, raising my chin to look them straight in the eye.

  The redness drained from her face and she turned white. The same paleness overtook Robert’s face.

  “He asked you to marry him?” Betsy asked quietly, clearly shaken. It was as if her anger had suddenly vanished.

  “Well, not yet—but he will,” I said, feeling my own courage leak from my bones. At least I hoped he would.

  Betsy stood up. “We failed.” She disappeared up the stairs, leaving me with Robert who could not take his eyes off me.

  What was wrong with everyone? I thought they would be unhappy, not say they failed.

  “You failed?” I yelled out in frustration. “What’s that even supposed to mean? That you failed at raising me? It is probably true, because I can bet you my parents would have been excited for such an honor! Most people are! Instead, you say you failed. Well then, go wallow in your misery while I marry him, live in his palace, and have the best life I could ever have!” I jumped out of my chair and stormed out the front door making sure it slammed hard behind me. I ran blindly through the dark woods until I reached the river, where I sat down and cried.

  I hated it when Betsy and Robert were angry with me—and the fact my hope of marrying Richard angered them more broke my heart. However, it had not been until I told them I would marry him that I had realized how much I actually wanted to. I had fallen in love with Richard and if he decided he did not want me as his wife, I would be devastated.

  When I had calmed down, I headed back to the cabin, hoping Betsy and Robert were asleep. To my relief, they were in their room, their soft voices murmuring through the walls. I retired to my bedroom, feeling my anger and frustration fade away, leaving behind it a gnawing guilt. Guilt that I felt to my core, guilt that I could not understand.

  Chapter 8

  IWOKE AFTER A few hours to a loud bang that shook the cabin. I sat up quickly as a burst of light blinded me. It was a thunderstorm. Sighing, I lay back down and stared at the ceiling as I watched the white flashes dance across it. The sound of the wind was harsh and loud through the trees. I shuddered whenever branches scraped at the walls of our home. Then the crashing rain began and it sounded like the sky was taking out its wrath on the world. As the rain became a constant thud on the roof, I began to drift back to sleep, but woke with a jolt each time unexpected thunder rumbled through the air. When I heard that Betsy and Robert were awake and in the kitchen, I made my way down through the dim hallway.

  The storm outside was quieter now, but the rain continued its heavy downpour. The cabin creaked in the blowing wind. I walked over to Betsy and Robert’s room to make sure a metal pail had been set under the stubborn leak Robert had been trying to fix for months. As I left their room, I heard a knock on the front door and Robert open it.

  Who would be visiting at a time like this?

  “Mitchell,” Robert greeted the man. “I’m glad you were able to find your way in this weather.”

  “The directions were pretty specific, so I managed,” Mitchell said.

  The door closed and I watched from the top of the stairs as Betsy took his coat. He was fairly tall and young, probably a year or two older than Richard, with shaggy brown hair.

  “Well it is a pleasure to have you,” Betsy said. “Are you hungry? I just finished breakfast.”

  “Yes, very. It smells delicious.”

  Betsy beamed with delight.

  I crept back to my room and grabbed my robe so I would not be greeting our guest in a chemise. I checked myself in the mirror and then headed down the stairs.

  “Good morning, Layla,” Robert said.

  “Good morning,” I replied sheepishly.

  Betsy said nothing.

  “Layla, this is Mitchell Anderson,” Robert said.

  Mitchell stood and took my hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady.” He bent down and kissed it.

  I pulled it back in surprise of the title he gave me.

  “Mitchell is going to be staying with us for a fortnight,” Betsy said.

  “Yes, perhaps even shorter if everything in Eagle’s Nest goes smoothly,” Mitchell said.

  “Well, for now we will eat,” Robert said.

  I picked up a bowl of fruit and set it down on the table as Betsy brought the rest of breakfast. I ate silently as Robert and Mitchell talked about Eagle’s Nest and the weather. I did not understand why Mitchell was here and would be staying with us. Had Betsy and Robert managed to forget we were having a guest over?

  Thunder rumbled through the forest and Robert laughed. “Looks like winter has finally arrived. It always storms a few weeks before the snows.”

  “So you say every year,” Betsy mumbled.

  “But it is true, my dear.”

  “I guess it’s time to dig out the winter coats,” I said.

  “And it doesn’t look like any of us are leaving until this storm lets up,” Mitchell added.

  He was right. I was supposed to send word to Richard to invite him for dinner, but that meant I had to wait until the storm lifted.

  The rain continued throughout the rest of the day and night. I felt suffocated in the cabin being followed by Betsy’s stare of contempt and listening to Robert and Mitchell trying to lighten things up with small talk and jokes. When I could no longer handle it, I took a coat from the door and walked out into the downpour to the
barn. It was peaceful to hear the pitter-patter of the rain through the forest’s leaves and the smell of wet earth filling my nostrils.

  I added more hay to Dusk’s stall, and then groomed her. “I think you would love it in the palace’s stable,” I whispered. “You’d be brushed every day, given all the food you could eat, and then taken out to green pastures where you could run. It will be your home if I marry Richard.”

  Her ears perked up at his name and I smiled. She had come to like him—especially with all the treats he brought her.

  “See, you would like that.”

  “Of course she would,” Robert’s voice said behind me.

  I jumped in surprise, but did not utter a word.

  “Do you love him?” he asked.

  I stared for a moment. “Yes.”

  “It’s not just a word you know. There is so much more to love than just saying ‘I love you.’”

  “I know,” I replied, positive I understood what it meant. After all, I had never felt this way about anyone.

  Robert leaned on the stall of another horse and stared at me. “I had a friend once who fell for the one woman no man wanted to marry. She was not the submissive type. She loved adventure, politics, and even hunting. Many people tried to talk him out of it. They said it was unconventional and it would be scandalous. They said a woman like her did not belong in his house.” He paused but kept his gaze on me. “You see, he was a very important man, and the idea of him marrying her scared other men because she was so outspoken. She was not afraid to put a man in his place. Frankly, they were fearful of her. However, my friend did not care because he loved her. It didn’t matter what anyone said, he was going to spend the rest of his life with her.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  “Because my friend’s love was true love. You see, he didn’t let what other people think interfere in the way he felt about her. So if you are right about the prince and how he feels about you, then I would believe that he truly loves you.”

  “Because no prince would love a commoner.”

  “Kings and queens are all about their image, Layla—that is why I am allowing you to invite him for dinner. I want to see with my own eyes that none of this is an act. I want to see that he cares for you and is not just leading you on.”