"Your Grace," a familiar deep voice intoned. Meredith raised her head and saw Mr. Stanley, the butler, heading her way. "Do you require any assistance?”
Meredith composed herself and offered him a small smile. "Oh, Mr. Stanley. I was wondering if you knew whether Ethan had already left for the evening?"
Mr. Stanley nodded gravely, holding his hands behind his back. "I believe His Grace departed less than a quarter of an hour ago."
"Oh, I see," she said with a small voice. "Thank you. That will be all."
"At your service, Your Grace," he said, bowing.
Meredith watched the butler leave as the rain that trampled against the outer castle walls drowned out the sounds of his vanishing footsteps, all serving to amplify her loneliness.
After his departure, she began her slow, heavy trudge up the stairs to the second floor of the castle, and to the room she had prepared for their little tryst. She entered inside but her shoulders slumped, and a pang of disappointment pierced her heart. It had taken her a week to prepare the room. Was it all for nothing?
A table for two stood in the center of the room, illuminated by two candelabras placed in a symmetrical position with a porcelain vase filled with flowers in the middle. It was a beautiful sight. The flickering light on the table cast shadows around the rest of the room and caused the burgundy curtains to shine a brighter shade in some areas, almost like glimmers of gold. The scent of wine and freshly roasted turkey wafted through the room but she no longer had the appetite.
She took a seat, crossing her legs as she allowed her gaze to take in the room one final time. She felt silly and pitiful, expecting Ethan to join her even at this moment. Her hand closed around a glass of special château wine, one she had personally unearthed from Ethan’s cellar, and she took a large gulp, downing the drink in a single, unceremonious swallow.
"I’m such a fool," she grumbled to herself while pouring yet another glass.
Her first thought was to abandon her list and not bother anymore. And for the following week, she would live like an outcast until it was time for her to move away and gain her freedom. Blinking back tears, she swallowed down yet another glass.
She set the final glass down with a thump and the ring it accompanied caused her to recoil. But with it came a knock on the door. Assuming it was one of the servants, she didn’t respond right away. But the rapping sounded again, persistent and sharp, an assault on her ears. Finally, she got out of her chair and made her way to the door, but it suddenly went quiet. Hopefully whoever was out there had left. Just as she was about to turn away, it sounded for a third time, this time with more urgency.
Meredith’s hands clutched the handle and she slowly opened the door as it creaked on its hinges. Her breath faltered as her eyes set on a gold-studded blue waistcoat with tall standing collars. Slowly lifting her gaze above the ruffles of a fine linen shirt, it finally rested on a sharp and handsome face. It was Ethan, standing at the door. His bergamot and sandalwood fragrance reached her nostrils, ensuring her it was all real, and he calmly stood there, with his hands behind his back and his boots tapping the floor in expectation.
Once he noticed the door was open, he turned his head in her direction. Meredith’s body flushed and her cheeks burned pink as she became acutely aware of her scandalous state of dress. With the realization, she swung the door half-shut and remained barely concealed by the gap that now separated her body from Ethan’s eyes. She only allowed her head to peek out.
My goodness, how can I let him see me wearing this? Better yet, what was I thinking wearing this?
“Y-yes?” a soft sound escaped her throat.
Ethan angled himself carefully as he tried to sneak a glance into the room. “Were you trying to keep it hidden? I had to acquire the help of five servants to solve the riddle of what the ‘room with the furniture covered in cloth’ could possibly be. Needless to say, you have not seen much of Penrose yet to come up with such a vague description,” Ethan explained as he pressed his hand against the door to open it. Meredith placed the same pressure back, halting his progress.
“W-wait!” she quickly said. Her body tensed against the cold door and Ethan stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “I—the room, it needs some—”
“Don’t worry, I don’t mind waiting inside, it’s chilly out here,” Ethan added before she could finish her sentence, shuddering to emphasize his point. Then, in one swift motion, he pushed past the door and strolled into the room.
Meredith’s arms crossed over her upper chest as she covered herself, her skin turning to match the hue of her crimson gown. There was a large opening at the center of her dress, revealing most of her bosom, a scandalous sight she no longer had the confidence to share with her husband.
Ethan seemed fascinated by the haphazard movement and his hazel eyes lingered on her frame in boyish wonder before he inched closer, so close she could almost feel the warmth of his body through their clothes.
Then, with gentleness, his strong hands enveloped her delicate ones, and he pulled them apart little by little, revealing her before him. As her chest came into full view, his eyes lit up in avarice, and he seemed to bite his tongue inside his mouth before finally saying, “Is this what you were trying to hide from me?”
Meredith shook her head quickly in embarrassment. Too quickly. She turned her back on him, and then she heard heavy steps make their way toward the center of the room. A chair creaked and Ethan took a seat, followed by the muffled sound of a leg crossing over the other and the rattling of plates and glasses.
“I must say, this all looks delightful. Are you going to close the door? The chill will settle into the room soon,” he noted.
Meredith, in her flustered state, shut the door painfully slowly, her hands trembling slightly. Then, clenching them into fists, she turned to face him but was still rooted in the spot. Yet again, she had prepared something for the two of them but lacked the courage to follow through with her plans.
Her moment of hesitation was seized upon by Ethan who quickly rose from his seat. “Ah, my apologies.” He calmly made his way toward the chair opposite him across the table, “I must admit I have been bred out of such formal settings.” He pulled out her chair a little and gestured toward it, “Please?”
The expectation placed on her now helped Meredith break out of her stupor, and she walked to the chair and took a seat. “I thought you were not going to come,” she mumbled honestly.
“It would be quite impertinent on my part to reject my wife’s request for a private dinner.” He made his way back to his chair.
Meredith narrowed her eyes, questioning the sincerity of his statement. “You usually—always leave in the evenings,” she noted. “Even with my note, I was not surprised when I heard you had left from Mr. Stanley.” It wasn’t a complete lie, of course. A part of her did not believe he would join her, but she continued to remain hopeful right up to the knock.
“Oh? The paper? It had no distinguishable markings and so I ended up reading it right after I took my leave. Stanley was not to know. In fact,” he chuckled lightly, pouring himself some wine and hesitating a little as he noticed her wineglass seemed to have recently been emptied, “I made quite the fool of myself rushing about the castle trying to find the room you had written of in your note. Made my way right here as soon as I could.”
