It was well past midnight before she drifted off to sleep.
❄ ❄ ❄
Edward woke to a warm room.
His eyes fluttered open and he realized it was his own, though he had no memory of how he had gotten there. He did, however, remember the pain, and then the wolves, and worst of all, how he had shouted at Alina.
Glancing about the room, he found her seated in a chair near his bed. Her body was slumped forward on her folded arms and her eyes were closed, fast asleep. Her hair was still tied up in a scarf and her dress, which had already been dirty from cleaning, now bore mud flecks and watermarks from the snow. She’d been through enough the previous day and he was pleased to see that she was sleeping peacefully.
The pain was gone, but Edward couldn’t shake the memory of it nor the weakness and feelings of illness that now plagued him instead. He’d never stepped farther than a few paces beyond the walls before, returning when the burning sensation in his chest had become too overwhelming. Last night he had gone more than a mile from the estate.
He tried to lift his head a little but only got a few inches off the pillows before dizziness overwhelmed him. Lowering his head again, he closed his eyes briefly and waited for the feeling to pass.
It was dangerous, not being able to leave your house. He’d tried not to dwell on that before, but now the realization felt like a slap in the face. If anything happened to Alina, he’d not be able to take her anywhere or leave the mountain to go for help. He was alone and by returning here with him, she was alone now too.
Still, he was glad she was here. There had been a moment while he was readying the horse that he’d been afraid she might not want his help and wouldn’t return with him, knowing that he’d never be able to make it back on his own before the pain overtook him. He should have warned her. It would only benefit them both if she knew the details of his curse.
There were many things Edward realized needed to change. He had to be more honest with both her and himself. Most of all, he needed to remember the man he used to be. There could be no more harsh words or impatience from him. He was nobility once and he needed to acknowledge what that meant. If he didn’t, Alina would leave him again and next time, she wouldn’t be coming back.
Looking down once more, Edward noticed that his shirt had been removed and that wet cloths lay upon his chest. The curse must have driven him into a fever and she’d tried to cool it. That meant that she had seen him now and touched his scars. Glad that he’d been unconscious for it all, he contemplated the look of disgust that had probably crossed her face when she’d seen his damaged flesh.
Edward tore his thoughts away from his own insecurities and looked again to the woman who lay slumped over his bed. He felt as though he’d never really looked at her before. When she was awake, he didn’t like to meet her eyes, afraid that she’d see too much into the thoughts and the anger he wanted to hide. But now, as she lay there peacefully sleeping, he took in the gentle curve of her lips and the way the corner of her eye wrinkled a little where it lay pressed against her arm. Compared to his own harsh, scarred features, she appeared so soft and delicate. She was beautiful. With each passing moment, Edward had a growing desire to reach out and touch her. But he stopped himself.
After a while, Alina stirred and took several deep breaths before opening her eyes and lifting her head a little off her arms. Edward quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be sleeping again, but peering out at her through his dark lashes.
She sat up and stretched, rubbing the stiffness from her neck before standing to move closer to him. She put a hand on his cheek to feel for fever and it took all of Edward’s strength not to lean into her palm. It had been so long since he’d been touched by another person and he craved it, only now realizing how much he’d been starving for physical contact these long years. When her hand left his cheek, he could feel the place where she’d touched him, the skin tingling long after her fingers were gone.
When she determined that the fever had left him, she peeled the wet cloths from his chest and set them in a bowl by the bed, drying the water droplets from his skin with a fresh towel. Edward felt sure she could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest, but her gentle hands never hesitated.
Once the water was wiped away, she pulled the blankets up over him, gently tucking them around his shoulders. He wondered if it was possible for her to still be frightened of him and yet touch him with such tenderness. Could her feelings toward him have changed after what had happened in the woods?
Alina collected the cloths and left, leaving Edward alone with his thoughts.
Chapter Eight
By midmorning, Alina was pleased to see that life had returned to the fabrics. They slipped under the door to prepare her a bath, filling the clawfoot tub in the corner of her room with hot water, sweet smelling oils, and soaps that bubbled on the surface.
She immersed herself in the water after thanking the fabrics. The scarves settled on the bed and swirled around the bedside table leaving her with a new dress and a simple breakfast before they flitted back under her door and out of the room, no doubt to go check on Edward while she soaked.
Alina hadn’t slept well slumped against Edward’s bed and the heat soothed her stiff muscles. It was a complete mystery to her why he’d collapsed the way he did. He bore no wounds and though he had been hot with fever when she had found him, he’d been well just hours before. There was no illness she knew of that could render a man of Edward’s size unconscious so abruptly. She promised herself she’d inquire about it when she saw him next, no matter if the words made him angry again.
Herbs and healing had never been her strong suit and it would have been impossible to go for a doctor for help. When she’d felt that the fever had left him and that he was sleeping soundly, relief had overwhelmed her. Now she needed to take care of herself in case he needed her again when he woke.
When the scarves and handkerchiefs returned, Alina rose from the tub and dried off with a clean towel. When she pulled the towel away, sections of fabric unfolded around her body and she was pleased to see that she wore the same pine-green dress as before. The handkerchiefs helped her twist half her hair into an elegant knot, pulling it away from her face, but leaving the majority of it long and flowing past her shoulders to dry.
As she fiddled with her hair, Alina couldn’t stop thinking about how much Edward confused her. One moment he was shouting at her with such a rage in his eyes, but the next, he risked his life, putting himself between her and the wolves. It was almost as if there were two versions of him—one that was easily overwhelmed by frustration and anger, and another that was just a lonely man who had been isolated for too long.
After breakfast in her room, Alina exited into the hallway and walked toward Edward’s chambers. She could hear his voice as she approached and hesitated in front of the door. Was he still angry at her? How much had things changed from the day before? If nothing else, she would thank him for saving her life. Holding her breath, Alina rapped softly on the door. She heard Edward’s voice cut off and it felt like an eternity before he invited her to enter.
Pushing open the door, she stepped into his chambers. Edward was on the bed where Alina had left him that morning, but now he was sitting up, his torso propped up on a stack of pillows. He hadn’t replaced his shirt and now that he was awake, Alina bashfully looked away. He seemed to notice her discomfort and motioned for the scarves to bring him his shirt which he slowly slid his arms into. It was clear that he was still weak from whatever had ailed him. When he moved to pull it over his head, Alina could see how labored the motions were.
“Would you like some help?” she asked.
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” he said, his voice a little breathless.
Alina hurried to the bedside and helped him pull the worn linen shirt over his head and shoulders. It was the same old thing he always seemed to wear and she wondered why the scarves didn’t make him new clothes. Or perhaps they did and he ref
used to wear them.
“Thank you,” he said, settling back against the stack of pillows with a sigh. Alina gave him a reassuring nod and resituated the blankets over him.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked. She turned to move away from the bed, but as she did so, Edward caught her hand in his. It wasn’t aggressive, but he had never touched her before and the feeling of his fingers grasping hers sent a surge to her chest. It was an unfamiliar and uncertain sensation and she hated that she was still afraid of him.
“Your hands…” he said, his brows knitting together with concern. Alina slipped her fingers from his and turned away, looking down at her own hands. The cold weather and days of scrubbing floors had left them chapped with cracks on her knuckles. On the opposite side, there were scratches on her palms from the climbing roses. At least they were clean from her bath.
“It looks worse than it is,” she said.
“There is a small box on the shelf above the desk. Will you bring it to me?”
Alina nodded and moved to the far side of the room. She had forgotten everything she’d been planning on saying to him. Before she could remember, Edward spoke.
“I’m sure you are wondering what happened yesterday,” he said as Alina reached the shelf and retrieved the box. “I’m sorry I’ve not been forthright. I’m sorry about a lot of things. But I want to be honest with you.”
“I’d like that,” Alina said, glancing back at him. She returned to the bed and handed the box to Edward who took it and set it in his lap. He looked back to the box and lifted the top before rummaging inside and pulling out a small jar of something white. After closing the box and setting it aside, he spoke again.
“Please. Will you let me put something on your hands?”
She watched him as he spoke to her so calmly. Today he was nothing like the harsh, furious man she’d known. She didn’t press him to speak more, nervous that a wrong question might change him back into the animal she had believed him to be.
“Won't you sit?” he asked.
At his invitation, she let herself sink onto the mattress beside him. He unscrewed the lid of the jar and when he had uncovered it, the strong smell of jasmine wafted out. She realized that it was some sort of salve.
He reached out his hand and Alina placed her small fingers in his much larger ones. She remembered looking at his strong arms and large hands before and thinking how effectively they could be used to harm her. But now, as he carefully spread the balm over her red skin, she wondered if she’d ever been handled so gently. His motions were delicate and she recognized the intentional movements of the same man who had so carefully drawn the wildlife sketches covering the desk. There were calluses too, covering the tips of the fingers of his left hand.
“Do you play an instrument?” she asked, looking to his face for the first time.
He said nothing but nodded his head toward the corner where she now noticed the cello standing behind the tall window drapes.
“I would not have guessed,” she said. “I would love to hear you play sometime.”
“I’m not sure how good a musician I am these days. There aren’t many melodies that only use three strings. To make up for my lack of notes, I’ve been composing my own and I’m afraid most of them are quite horrible.”
Alina gave a small smile and watched him tenderly turn her hand in his so he could apply the salve to the other side. It felt a little strange to sit here and talk as if they were friends. She glanced at the instrument again and could see that one of the strings was indeed missing.
“Why not have it replaced?” she asked. “Or ask a luthier to come here to repair it if you don’t like leaving the manor.”
“It isn’t that I don’t like to,” he said, looking up at her. “It is that I can’t.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Is it because you didn’t have a horse?”
Edward stopped moving his hands and lifted his eyes to meet hers.
“I cannot leave the property because it causes me agonizing pain. You saw me yesterday and I’m sure I frightened you when I lost consciousness.”
“You did,” she confessed. “I was scared that something terrible had happened.”
“I must thank you for bringing me inside and taking care of me.”
“You saved my life last night,” she said, “For the second time I might add. I wasn’t going to leave you out there in the cold.”
“After the way I shouted at you, I wouldn't have blamed you. I inherited my father’s temper and I’m afraid I’ve been short of company for so many years that I’ve forgotten how to control it. My anger has been the one thing that has stopped me from sinking into the depths of melancholy. Without my anger, I was afraid I wouldn’t want to live anymore.”
The things he said didn’t make sense, but she could hear the sorrow in his voice and didn’t ask him to explain. He had helped her and she only wished to comfort him. He dropped his eyes to her hands again and began applying the salve to a particularly large scratch on her left palm.
“Alina,” he said softly, “I’ll never raise my voice to you again. That I promise you.”
She nodded to him gratefully.
“Since we are apologizing, I’m sorry I left too. It was an overreaction and it breaks my heart to think you endured such agony to save me from my own foolishness.”
“It wasn’t foolishness. It was a reflex. One I should have considered before shouting at you when you were only trying to help.”
Edward released her hand and put the lid back on the salve. The fabrics appeared and fluttered through the air to wrap themselves around her hands, covering them with a pair of soft, thin gloves. Alina clasped her hands together and stood from the bed, suddenly feeling like an intruder here in his rooms.
“I’ll replace that box for you and then be out of your way,” she said, reaching out for the wooden box. Edward put the jar inside and then handed it to her. She crossed the room and put it back on its shelf and then made for the chamber door.
“Will you dine with me tonight?” he asked. “I think I will have my strength back by this evening.”
She stopped when she reached the door and looked back to him. He looked small, laying there in his large bed, his voice calm and expression peaceful.
“Only if you promise to play after dinner,” she said.
For the first time, a tinge of pink rose to his cheeks and the hint of a smile crossed his lips.
“Very well,” he replied, and she closed the door.
❄ ❄ ❄
The sun was going down as Rodderick entered the village tavern, his nostrils welcoming the scent of good food and strong drink. His eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Sykes at a table in the corner. He had a girl on his knee, a mug in his hand, and he was laughing, his drink sloshing over and wetting the front of the girls dress. The girl stopped laughing and pushed against his chest before leaving to change her clothes.
“Up to your old tricks I see,” Rodderick said, approaching and pulling out a chair beside him.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Sykes said grinning, the scent of alcohol on his breath. “Is that wife of yours keeping you out of a place like this?”
Rodderick glared at him. He didn’t have any patience to spare tonight, his efforts to find Alina having wasted another whole day with no results.
“I’ve been busy,” he snapped, a muscle moving in his neck.
“It’s just a bit of fun,” Sykes said, not trying to hide his disappointment that Rodderick was ruining the jovial mood of the room. “What are you doing in here if you’re not looking for a quick lay?”
“Looking for you,” he replied. “I have a job for you.”
“I could use the coin. What have you in mind?”
“I need you to find someone.”
A barmaid approached the table and handed Rodderick a mug and took his coin.
“Easy enough,” Sykes said once the girl had gone. “What do they look like
?”
“You know what she looks like. It’s Alina.”
Sykes gave out a great laugh.
“Your wife?” he said, his laugh turning into a cough. “You need me to find your wife? Find her yourself.”
“I’ve looked, but I don’t have the time to go gallivanting about.” He took a long and frustrated gulp of his drink.
“You, Rodderick Dameron, can’t keep your own woman under control. Lord, what chance is there for the rest of us.”
Rodderick’s hand shot out and clasped around Sykes’ temple, slamming his head into the table. A few of the men at nearby tables glanced over, then quickly went back to their evening.
“I’m on a short rope,” Rodderick said, pressing the man's cheek hard against the wood. “I don’t have time for your disrespect. Find her for me and I’ll pay you well. Otherwise our business is concluded.”
“Alright, alright,” Sykes said, and Rodderick released him. Sykes lifted his head off the table and put his hand to his temple, feeling the spot it had hit the wood as if just remembering how fragile the human body really is. “I’ll find the girl. Where should I look?”
“She’s not in the village. Can’t be. I think she’s gone over the mountain, or perhaps to her father’s home in Lothersford. Wait until the weather is right and look for her there. And not a word about this to anyone.”
Sykes nodded and Rodderick slipped him a small pouch of coins.
“I’ll give you twice that when the job is done.”
As the man sat and counted his coin, Rodderick downed the rest of his drink, then stood from the table, walking out of the tavern without a backward glance.
Chapter Nine
Edward was nervous as he prepared for the evening, a fact he tried to hide from the handkerchiefs as they helped him trim his unkempt hair and beard until he looked respectable. He bathed and dressed in a fresh, white shirt as well as the black coat and trousers that had been laid out for him days before. It was fashionable and fit well across his broad shoulders. He felt a little tinge of guilt that he had rejected the fine clothes that were often created for him over the years.
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