I awoke to discover a letter placed on my seat at the dining table during breakfast. There was an odd sense of relief knowing that I would not have to face Draven for a few days, but I was also disappointed. After Draven’s demeanor the night prior, my feelings for him remained unclear.
Each creak of the floorboard echoed my thoughts as I made my way down a long corridor. I walked toward Draven’s end of the hall where I hadn’t dared to try opening his door since my first night here.
An uneasy feeling tugged at me, urging me to stop and turn back. But my curiosity pushed me onward. I reached out and grasped the cold brass knob, my heart racing despite knowing Draven was away. For a moment, I braced myself, half-expecting him to appear.
With a deep breath, I turned the knob and pushed the door, only to find it locked. I felt foolish for even trying. I turned and made my way back down the hall, my movementsending a ripple across the fabric of a tapestry that hung on the wall. Its colours, once vibrant, had faded over time, and its peculiar placement struck me. No other tapestries adorned this hallway.
I reached out and ran my hands along the texture, and felt something protruding from the wall behind. I moved aside the tapestry and my suspicions were confirmed; a door lay behind it.
The knob refused to budge as I twisted and wiggled it. I peered through the keyhole, but it was too dark in the room for me to see anything. I felt a chill rush over me, wondering why the door was hidden.
I left, making my way to the foyer, when I heard Imalda sneeze. She was dusting the ornate banisters.
“Imalda,” I called softly, drawing her attention.
“Ah, Miss Rosalia. How lovely to see you,” she replied, pausing her work with a warm smile. “Is there anything you require?”
“I was curious about—” but then I paused. I wanted to ask her about the room behind the tapestry, though something else came to the forefront of my mind instead. “The letters I gave you. Did you bring them to Elmcross?”
“Yes, I delivered them to the address you gave me. The little black house,” she said.
“And who did you give them to?”
“No one was home. I put them by the front door.”
“Hmm.” I was perplexed as to why Vail hadn’t received them.
“Were they important?”
“No, they were for a friend. Don’t fret.” I assured her. “I have been wondering though, Imalda. How did you end up here? In Draven’s employment?”
Imalda set down her cloth, her expression shifting to one of reflection. “It is quite a story. Years ago, my sister fell illwith a terrible disease. I did everything I could to care for her, but when she passed, I was alone.”
“I am so sorry,” I said, feeling the weight of her words.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I had nowhere to go. I set out for Elmcross, hoping to find work. However, a storm hit. It was fierce, and I got lost.”
“What happened?”
“I stumbled upon this mansion and knocked on the door, drenched and shivering. Mr. Blackwell answered. He invited me in, wrapped me in blankets, and made me tea. He took care of me while I recovered,” she continued, a soft smile played on her lips. “He has always been kind. I stayed here, and he offered me a job. I have been a part of this household ever since. He saved me in more ways than one.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I said, feeling a deeper connection to Imalda.
By the third day of Draven’s absence, Thornwood had become more than just a temporary haven. I sat reading in the library and began to understand my yearning for stability. The idea of a place to call home, a place far away from the dangers that lurked in the night. I believed that I deserved safety and comfort, and Draven has given that to me.
I considered these new desires and wondered if I could find companionship with Draven. I could not deny my feelings for him. I longed for his return.
The sunlight streaming through the tall windows of the library was warm on my skin as I lay reading. The fireplaces, with their crackling logs, were warm, and soothing and my eyes grew heavy.
When I awoke, I found myself being carried, wrapped in the tender embrace of Draven’s arms.
“Keep sleeping,” his voice rumbled deep in his chest as he carried me up the stairs. “I did not mean to wake you.”
I blinked groggily, feeling a mixture of confusion and comfort as I nestled in his arms. “You are quite strong.” My voice was laden with drowsiness.
“You should still be asleep,” he urged softly.
“I am awake now,” I replied with a sleepy smile, but then I realized how close our bodies were. “Is it strange that this is not the first time you have carried me into bed?” I felt him tense beneath me. “I figured it was you, considering you carried me home the night you rescued me. Though I could not help but wonder who undressed me my first night here. I distinctly remember waking up in a nightgown.”
