“The scarves?” he asked. “I am curious to know what you imagine they are.”
Alina’s brows creased together.
“My grandmother used to tell me stories of house spirits who watch over a place and its inhabitants. Since the napkins serve us dinner and handkerchiefs change my clothes, I never gave it any further thought. I think I was so overwhelmed by you and this house and my problems that I didn’t question my first assumption.”
Alina realized how ridiculous that sounded, but Edward just looked down at her, smiling sweetly as she spoke.
“Am I incorrect?” she asked.
He didn’t answer immediately, but led her around the side of the manor house and into the gardens where the frost still clung to every vine and shrub. White angel statues, which matched those in the entryway, stood gracefully arranged among the dormant plants.
The scarves and handkerchiefs darted ahead and brushed the snow off a stone bench. Alina watched thick furs appear upon the cold stone and Edward invited her to sit.
The handkerchiefs flitted here and there, dusting the snow off the bushes around them to reveal perfect red roses blooming among the frost. Alina admired a large bloom, its deep scarlet color looking even more vibrant against the white around it.
“Roses in winter?” she asked.
“They were her favorite,” he said, gesturing to where the fabrics were still darting about.
“Whose?”
“Alina,” he said softly, “I’d like to formally introduce you to my mother.”
At his words the handkerchiefs stopped moving and a scarf drifted gracefully to drape over Edward’s outstretched hand.
❄ ❄ ❄
“She always did love beautiful things,” Edward said, ignoring the look of surprise on Alina's face. “Delicate fabrics and clothing, fine table settings and food, and, of course, roses.”
“Has she… passed on, then?” she asked, then quickly clarified. “I meant no disrespect. I only want to understand.”
Edward gave her a small smile and the scarf left his hand and fluttered to her shoulder. It was soon joined by several more beautiful pieces of cloth, some appearing out of thin air to fall across Alina's knees.
“It’s quite alright,” he said. “Yes, my mother’s body is gone forever.”
“Was she cursed like you?”
“No. I think she did this to herself ...out of love.”
Alina raised her brows in sympathy. If anyone might understand the pangs that tore at his heart, it would be her, having lost her own mother when she was young.
“My mother was dying and with her last breath, she promised to be here to protect me. My curse had only taken hold, but somehow her love was stronger than any power it had over me. She remembered me, even until the end, and swore that as long as the curse remained, she would stay.”
“May I ask how she died?” Alina said.
“Complications from a head injury,” he said. “You’ve seen my temper. My father was much worse. Sometimes he’d take his anger out on whoever was near and that was usually my mother. That’s really the heart of everything you see before you.
“I wanted to protect her, but I was terrified of him. Then one day when I was seventeen, I came home to find my mother in bed. Her face was bruised and she wouldn’t wake up. The servants were caring for her and the doctor had been called, but when she didn’t wake up after hours, we knew there was something wrong.
“I remember my anger rising inside me until I couldn’t contain it. I found my father in his study and confronted him.
“When you spoke of what it was like to have Rodderick’s wrath directed at you, it felt as though you were describing my own life to me. You said it made you feel like a helpless child again. That’s how I felt around my father. Even after what he had done to my mother, how he had abused her for years, I couldn’t do anything to him. I wanted to. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands, but I felt too small and powerless. I was only seventeen and didn’t know what to do. So I just left the room. I remember him telling me as I walked out the door that he’d kill her if he so desired. That if the time came for it, he was saving that ultimate action for something special and that he had it all planned out. And I believed him. It was only a matter of time before he took her life, if his actions hadn’t already.”
Alina moved a hand and placed it on his back. The affectionate gesture said more than words ever could and he welcomed her touch. He didn’t look at her but kept his eyes fixed on the snow, remembering each event as it had happened.
“I killed my own father,” he confessed, speaking the words before he could stop himself. “It was the easiest thing to slip a little poison into his wine before dinner. By the time he realized what had happened, it was too late. I was seated near him at the table and except for the servants, I was the only one in the room. I don’t know if my face confirmed it or if he just guessed, but before the poison took him completely, he attacked me with a candelabra. That’s why I have these scars. The candles were knocked from their sconces and in the scuffle, my clothing and hair caught on fire and burned onto my skin. Before he died, I remember him writhing on the floor in pain, shouting strange words along with promises of how I would suffer.
“The servants suspected what I’d done, but they knew what he was. And they loved my mother and knew what would happen to her if both her husband and son were gone, so they said nothing, blaming my father’s death on his heart.
“I was placed in a bed near my mother and within hours, I knew my father’s threats had been genuine. The servants began to forget who I was, but my mother woke up briefly and remembered. A doctor was sent for and he tended to me at my mother’s request.
“I told my mother what I had done and about the things my father had said before he died. She’d noticed that people were beginning to forget me and believed that my father had used his last words to curse me. I remember her promising me that everything was going to be alright. She promised that she’d never leave me, as long as my father’s curse hung over me, she’d be by my side.
“The doctor explained that she had a fever and swelling in her brain. There was nothing he could do. She was in and out of consciousness until finally she fell asleep and never woke up.”
A hot tear rolled down Edward’s cheek and he quickly flicked it away.
“The servants left, thinking that there was no one left to employ them, the horses were sold, and the house packed up like no one would be living here. Everyone left and I was alone in this big empty place. No one realized I was still here. After they left through the gates, I believe they all forgot that this manor had ever existed at all. For the first time in my life, I was completely alone.
“Perhaps there is an element of magic in this house with all the spells my father cast on it, I’ll never know for certain. But after a while, I began to notice things move. Small things like a curtain shifting when there was no wind. And I knew my mother was still here. It was difficult for her at first, but soon she learned that she could manipulate things, especially things she’d loved in life. Fabric was the easiest for her and that’s how she’s always taken shape. She’d kept her promise and has watched over me all these years.”
Alina slid her hands around his elbow and he finally turned to look at her. Edward had been so frightened to admit what he was. Now that he had said the words aloud, he doubted there was anyone else who could better understand the desperation that had led him to kill his own father.
“When I saw you in my father’s study,” he continued, “holding the portrait of our family, all the memories came rushing back. I was terrified of you finding out who I used to be and what I had done. My solitude has been my curse, but I have also become dependent on it. I was uncomfortable giving it up.”
“Was?” she asked. “You’re not any more?”
“I think you’ve reminded me of what my life could be if I weren’t alone.”
Alina didn’t reply, but she held his arm just a little ti
ghter.
“If we do manage to break the curse,” she finally said, meeting Edwards sad eyes, “Does that mean your mother has to go?”
“I think so,” he said, “But what kind of existence is this for her? I'd rather she move on to the next life where she can find peace.”
❄ ❄ ❄
Alina sat with him in silence while his words sunk in. The cold began to seep through her dress and she gave a little shiver.
“You’re cold,” he said, coming back to the present and turning to her. “I’m sorry I’ve kept you out here so long.”
“It’s alright,” she said. “This was important.”
Edward stood and extended his hand to her, helping her from the stone bench. He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked out of the garden and back toward the front of the house.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” she said. “I know it was difficult for you, but I think I understand you better now. I misjudged you in the beginning.”
“As I did you,” he said.
Edward turned to her and halted his steps. She stopped walking too.
“Alina…” he said, but trailed off.
She turned to look at him as he stepped forward to pull her into his arms, pressing his lips to her hair. His arms were warm around her shoulders and she responded by leaning into him. pressing her head to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath her cheek. He was warm and firm and everything that she was not.
He pulled back from her a little until she raised her head to look at him and then bent his neck to touch his lips to hers. Alina could feel the hunger and loneliness in his kiss. It was like he was starving for her touch and had been for years. What must it have been like to be so alone for so long?
There was a sound at the gate and Edward pulled away, spinning to glance between the bars. A man stood there staring wide-eyed at the sight of the two of them kissing in the snow.
Alina recognized him from the village. She didn’t know his name, but had seen him with Rodderick before and knew that her husband sometimes paid the man for odd jobs. There was no other explanation as to why he would be here.
He was looking for her.
“Is this what you’ve been up to all this time you little slut?” the man asked, spitting on the ground.
Edward rushed forward, his countenance turning dark as his hand reached through the gate. Before the man realized what was happening, fingers clasped around his throat, holding him there as he struggled, his face turning a deep shade of red.
“Edward. Please stop,” Alina said. She had recognized the man—had sometimes sat next to his wife and children in church—and no matter what he called her, she couldn’t bear the thought of Edward harming him.
At Alina's request, he released his grip. The man crumpled to the ground, gagging and coughing and crawling away from the gate and out of Edward’s reach. Once he’d caught his breath, he stood and ran, stumbling through the snow down the overgrown path.
“I could run him down on Gladstone and stop him from ever reaching the village,” Edward said, but Alina shook her head.
“You’d never make it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“You know he’ll tell Rodderick where you are.”
“I know.”
“I’m a stranger to these people and neither of us will be safe here. If anything happens, I’ll not be able to leave this place to protect you.”
Alina's knees felt weak and she glanced down the road again to watch the man disappear around the bend. Edward just stared at her and it made Alina feel exposed, knowing he could see the fear in her eyes. He said nothing but took her hand, the anger in him calming when he touched her.
“I have to read the journal,” she said, turning away from him to return to the library where she’d left the book and her translations. “The only thing that can fix this is if we can break the curse.”
“Alina, wait,” he said, stopping her from pulling away. “What would he do if he found you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “That man saw you kiss me. Rodderick... he’s a very jealous man and he’ll think that I’m not only disobedient but also promiscuous. He’d call me much worse things than you just heard. I don’t know what he’ll do to me when he finds me, but I imagine it will be worse than anything before.”
“If he finds you,” Edward said. “We still have the book. It might give us a chance.”
❄ ❄ ❄
Edward sat against the window sill with a glass of brandy in his hands. He’d been sitting there for hours with the lights extinguished, watching the gate and pathway to the house, waiting for any sign of intruders.
Alina had worked on the journal long into the evening, declining dinner, telling him that she had no appetite. He understood and had barely eaten anything himself. When the candles had burned low, he had asked her to go to bed, not wanting her to exhaust herself, to which she had consented, leaving the library for her chambers and her warm bed.
He should have been asleep too, but the anxiety that loomed over them forced him to sit up and keep watch.
It was a great relief when the blizzard started.
The snow fell heavy and silent, the large flakes putting down several inches before he stopped watching, and it looked as if the storm would carry on long into the night.
Edward relaxed a little knowing that no man or horse would be traveling in this weather and the snow would likely be too deep for the next several days.
After setting down his empty glass, he was about to undress for bed when he heard a sound from somewhere inside the house. He stilled, craning his neck to listen for the sound again.
It was a voice—Alina's voice—and it faintly carried from her room down the hall.
Throwing open his door, Edward hurried down the passage to her chambers. The fear was tight in his chest. Someone might have gotten into the house from another direction instead of through the front gate where he’d kept careful watch. But when he opened her door, no one else was in the room.
The fire had died low but it still cast enough light for him to see Alina asleep on the bed, her hair splayed out on the pillows behind her. The blankets had slipped off of her body and when she turned her head, Edward could see that her eyes were still closed. She mumbled something indistinguishable but the panic was clear in her voice.
Moving to her side, he looked down at her small body tossing on the bed. Then she gave a little sob, turned again, and curled herself into a ball among the blankets.
“Alina,” he whispered, not wanting to frighten her awake. He put his hand to her hair and she shrank from his touch, but didn’t open her eyes. A whimper escaped her lips and the sound seemed to pierce him in the chest.
Sitting on the bed beside her, Edward placed his hand on her shoulder and gently rolled her over, attempting to pull her from the nightmare.
Her eyes shot open and she frantically scrambled away from him, tangling herself in the blankets and bumping into the bedside table. The water pitcher was knocked off its base and crashed to the floor, the porcelain shattering as it hit.
There was a raw fear in her eyes that Edward hadn’t seen, more intense than when he’d shouted at her. He knew exactly what her nightmare had been and he cursed Rodderick for ever teaching this woman that she needed to be so afraid.
Alina realized that she’d been dreaming and the fear in her expression was quickly replaced with shame.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, climbing off the bed to clean up the broken shards. Edward circled the bed to help her.
After they had collected all the pieces, he carefully took them from her hands and moved to put them on the bedside table. When he raised his arm, Alina flinched, like she expected him to strike her. He knew it was just a reflex, but it broke Edward’s heart. She had learned to flinch from experience.
Alina slumped against the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, and put her hands up to cover her face.
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“I’m sorry,” she said through her hands and he watched a silent tear slip out from behind her palms. “I forgot where I was.”
He sat down on the floor next to her, wishing he knew how to bring her peace. Before he could say anything, Alina moved close to him, putting her arms around his neck and letting out a sob that wracked her whole body. He hesitated, surprised that she would reach out for him. She was looking for comfort in his arms and when he realized it, Edward gathered her to him, pulling her into his lap. He wanted to comfort her and soothe the worry from her mind, but he wasn’t sure what else to do or say. And so he just held her for a long while and they sat on the floor in silence.
“It’s snowing again,” he said quietly, after the sobs had left her and she stopped trembling.
“Really?” she asked, raising her head a little to look at him. Her eyes were red and her face blotchy with salt trails dried onto her cheeks.
“See for yourself,” he said, standing and then offering his hand to help her up.
Alina moved to the window and a little of her anxiety seemed to melt away when she saw the dense flakes falling quickly from the sky. They stood there a while watching the storm.
“I’m so tired,” she said finally, and Edward didn’t know if she meant she needed sleep or she was exhausted from feeling like she was still running from her husband. She raised her eyes to his, then lowered them again as if hesitant to speak. He gently ran his hands up her arms, hoping that the gesture would encourage her.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked.
“If you want me to,” he replied. “If that would make you feel safe.”
She nodded and they moved to the bed where Alina rearranged the furs before climbing in. After removing his boots, Edward nervously slipped in beside her. He was unsure of the boundaries or what exactly she wanted of him. To his surprise, she moved close and put her head on his shoulder before resting a hand on his chest, her fingertips brushing against the soft linen of his shirt. He pulled the blankets up around the two of them and wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her small, warm body curled against his own.
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