“You know more about me than some of my closest friends, Miss. Blake. Why don’t you refer to me by my first name?” he suddenly asked, approaching her so closely that the tips of their toes were almost touching.
They were not talking about fear any longer. At least, not the kind of fear that made one’s dreams into a world of nightmares. It was a fear of getting closer, a fear of opening up. A fear of trusting the wrong person.
Rosalie wondered if he was right or wrong for her. Her heart assured her of the former. Her mind, on the other hand, urged her to be cautious, as always. With just one heartbeat, she knew what her answer to that question was.
“Edmund…” she said his name out loud, and it had the most melodious sound to it, like her lips were made to keep saying it over and over again. “Do you think it is proper that a governess calls her employer by his first name?”
He shrugged. “This is my house. I say what is proper and what is not. Besides, I am your employer, Miss. Blake.”
She smiled, feeling her cheeks warm up. “Rosalie.”
“Rosalie,” he repeated, almost whispering.
His hand seemed to reach out towards her face, but somewhere in the middle, right in the level of her neck, it stopped. It quickly dropped down by the side of his body. His other arm, the one that was inadequate, just like she felt her entire body to be, he was always hiding from plain sight.
“What is it you prefer?” he asked, turning around, and walking over to the shelves, his whole frame illuminated by the soft glow of the candles. “The French? The Italians? Our own good Brits?”
“Whatever you have will be fine,” she assured him, a little confused by what just happened, or what didn’t happen.
He seemed to ponder. The tip of his finger went over the spines of books she was too far away to read the titles to. So, she waited for his recommendation.
“How about this one?”
He drew one of the books out and handed it to her.
“Gulliver’s Travels?” She read the book aloud as she took it into her own hands.
“Mostly a satire of the government, politics and law, but a most amusing read,” he assured her. “You shall appreciate the whimsical lands he travels to.”
“Wonderful,” she smiled. “I shall return it once I am done with it.”
“If you like it,” he spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper, “consider it a gift.”
Rosalie was not ready for such an act of kindness. In the world she was born into, kindnesses were never done out of the goodness of one’s heart. There were always favors ready to be called upon. So, in her world, kindnesses were something to shy away from, not to welcome.
But this was not her world. This was Edmund’s world. This was where she was accepted as she was, something she never thought would be possible. Even when she was pondering the escape from Mr. Loveless’ House of Wonders, she knew that she would not be running towards a brighter future. She would simply fall into a life cycle of endless hiding. And, compared to the House of Wonders, that really was a brighter future of sorts.
However, the life she was living now was beyond her wildest imaginations. Every morning, she took a few moments to remind herself that this wasn’t some wonderful dream. This was reality. And, she had Edmund and his family to thank for that.
“That is most kind of you, My… Edmund,” she corrected herself in the last minute. It made him smile. “Well, I shan’t be keeping you any longer. I am very grateful for the book.”
“Do let me know how you like it tomorrow,” he urged.
“Certainly,” she assured him.
With one soft wave of her hand, she wished him goodnight. Then, she closed the door to the library, and headed back to her room.
Her heart was beating wildly, incredulous of what just happened.
He gifted me a book. No one had ever gifted me anything like that.
The thought of his warm smile, the way he urged her to call him by his first name, made her stomach explode in to a million little butterflies which couldn’t find a way out. Not that she wanted them to. She wished for this feeling to last forever.
With those thoughts warming her, she huddled under the covers and opened the first page. She herself felt like a traveler, who had endured many hardships and shipwrecks, only to find a safe haven here.
Mr. Loveless seemed less and less of a threat, as her heart fluttered with happiness and love. The darkness inside of her, planted by the one who endeavored to keep her a subdued slave, was slowly dissipating, disappearing. His name was now just an echo of a time past, his hands like claws of an animal that had no more reign over her.
However, deep down, somewhere so deep down that she could barely hear that tiny little voice, warnings echoed all around her. But she was too ecstatic to hear them.
